In reply to Graham Snow (msg # 89):

Bill seems confused at first.  "My suit..? Uh.  I got rope yeah.  Some line I use ta tie down stuff with."

It turns out he has an anchor as well.  It's a small one, like for use with a boat. But it should do the job.

There's a ladder up to the ceiling in the back store room.  Above is a hatch, latched shut.  It should lead up onto the roof.

You just need to open the hatch and...see if tons of water start pouring down on you.

Any other prep before we pop that hatch and see what the roof looks like?

"Can you help me tie this rope to the anchor? You stay down here, out of the storm, but when I call, help me pull on the rope to lift your suit up and into the shop."

"Let's see what it looks like up there," Graham says. He prays silently that the storm will not simply flood in once he raises the hatch.

OOC: Graham will tie the rope on the anchor with Bill's help. The plan is for Bill to stay below with the tail end of the rope and be ready to pull when Graham gives him the signal.

Once the anchor is tied to the rope, Graham will open the hatch and climb out onto the roof.

In reply to Graham Snow (msg # 91):

You lift the hatch...and DIE!!

No.  Not really.  The rain lashes at your face and soaks what little bit of your shirt that had dried out.  But the waters haven't yet covered the roof.  Looking over the side, the water must be about five feet deep.  You can see the trucks out in the parking lot.  They look like artificial islands in the middle of a dark lake.

You drop the anchor over the side.  After a few swings, you manage to latch onto the suit.  Yelling for Bill to heave ho, the two of you begin to work for it.

It. Is. Freakin'. Heavy.

Go ahead and make me a STR check.  You'll pull the suit up.  I just need to see how long it will take you.

The suit starts to come up over the top of the roof.  You grab it and pull hard, swinging it over the top.

The suit suddenly starts to get dragged backwards.  In a flash of lightning you can see some of that kelp has grabbed the left leg of the suit and is pulling it backwards, trying to pull it back into the water.

Graham heaves with all of his might. The suit is heavy, far heavier than he anticipated, and to top it off, the ocean doesn't want to relinquish it, not without a fight. Is Graham stronger than seaweed? Or will the Gulf reclaim the diving suit?

OOC: Heave!

In reply to Graham Snow (msg # 93):

Hey Sir.  Welcome back.  I gotta remember where we are.  Will post Thursday (usually off on Wednesdays).  Hope things are well.

In reply to Editor-in-Chief (msg # 94):

You put your back into it.  Then you add your abs and shoulders and spleen.

The kelp was no match for you.  It almost was.  But not quite.

You lay there a moment, with the suit next to you, staring up at the clouds.  The rain continues to pelt the roof.  You're soaked down to your BVDs.

But you have what you need.  You think.

Alright.  Time for Operation: Fool the Gulf.

How do you want to dress up the suit?  Or do you want to use it as is?

What a night. Graham's muscles ache from the tug of war with the sentient kelp, but somehow he was able to pull up the diving suit.

He could really go for a drink right about now.

The suit weighs a ton, but Graham bends with his knees, picks it up again, and carries it over to the hatch and eases it into the living area.

"Okay, let's stuff your sheets in this thing. That should make it smell more like you." Captain Debas had recommended Bill's blood or voice, or maybe both. Graham sighs. He really liked his phone.

"We need to make this thing more like you, Bill. What will really work is your blood and your voice. The Gulf is far more likely to accept that this diving suit is you and take it, leaving you here free to live your life. Now hear me out - if you can cut yourself and smear the blood on your sheet, that will help tremendously. And if you call my phone, I'll set it on speakerphone, so the Gulf will hear your voice coming out of it and think it's you." At least, Graham hopes the Gulf will. Damn it. He really did like that phone.

OOC: The plan is to stuff Bill's sheets in the diving suit, to try to convince Bill to cut himself and smear some blood on the sheets, and to have Bill call Graham's phone, put it on speaker phone, and have Bill keep talking. Then Graham will drag the diving suit back up to the roof and throw it Jonah-style to the waves.

In reply to Graham Snow (msg # 96):

Sorry Sir.  My post didn't take and not sure how I missed that

Bill seems confused by everything that's going on.  But he does it.  Surprisingly, he lets you bleed him a bit...

Okay.  Let's go off your Voudou skill.  Make a roll on it.  And give yourself a +3 bonus.  You were pretty through on what you added to the suit.

Let's see what happens next.  Thanks

Graham's quest to discover the magic behind his family's curse has only been going for a couple of years so far. He isn't yet the experienced shaman that he'd like to see himself becoming, and he still feels like he's making things up as he goes along. He is surprised when Bill goes along with the plan, though Graham knows that a few small sacrifices are better than being drowned by the Gulf.

He prepares the diving suit with the sheets smeared with Bill's blood and Graham's iPhone. Once more, he grimaces. He really wishes he had a Bluetooth speaker. That would have been far less costly than giving up his phone. "Okay, call my number, Bill, and whatever you do, don't stop talking." Graham waits for Bill to make the call, and then Graham sets his iPhone to speaker mode, places it on top of the blankets in the suit, and closes the suit up. Then he begins dragging the suit along the floor and back up top.

OOC: Okay, bloody sheets inside, then the phone set to speaker mode on top. He'll seal the diving suit, drag it up to the roof, and lower the suit into the water.

In reply to Graham Snow (msg # 98):

Kind of sade when a 16 is "just making it".  Remind me to hit you up with XP

You wrestle the suit up to the roof and, after waiting for the ring and Bill's voice, pitch it over the side.

There's a loud splash.  You watch the suit sink.

Nothing seems to happen.

No. Wait.

Maybe?

Is the water level going down?

No.

Yes?

No...

Yes.  It is most certainly going down.  Rather quickly too.

As you watch, the suit begins to swell, like some kind of oddly shaped balloon.

The suit grows larger and larger as the water level drops.  It gets rotund and starts to become a ball.

Soon, the suit is larger than the store.  It seems to be straining, as if the stitching is going to come apart any second now.  But it continues to grow.

And...

Soon, there is a diving suit shaped hill, about the size of high school football stadium, leaning against the wall of the store.

YOu can hear the wall starting to groan in protest.

Graham gapes in disbelief as the diving suit swells to an unbelievable size. Is all the water somehow going inside? What the hell? How is it staying together? Is this some kind of vision, or is this really happening?

He scrambles down the ladder as fast as he can, pulling the the trapdoor behind him. "Your suit's the size of a mountain!" he yells. "Take cover!"

He looks around swiftly, searching for a place to take shelter.

OOC: Look for the safest place in the store in case the suit explodes.

In reply to Graham Snow (msg # 100):

The suit swells even larger.

Then it stands up.  And starts to lumber away into the forest.  Like King Kong walking off set.

Bill and you watch it go.  He looks at you.  "Was it supposed to do that?"

Anything else you want to do with the suit?  Or Bill?

If not...we will be moving on.

Thanks

"Hell if I know." Graham watches the suit walking off into the forest. He had imagined maybe a Glorp as the water had receded, carrying off the suit, but he hadn't imagined the thing becoming some kind of kaiju.

"Weird shit just seems to follow me around." Graham sighs. This had been one expensive road trip. The rear of his Civic had been bitten off, and Graham had thrown away his phone. At least he wasn't dead. Yet.

In reply to Graham Snow (msg # 102):

I did.  Need to go back through the thread and figure out the CP thing.

I'll give you some choices on how to proceed to Canada.  Will post tomorrow.

Thanks

In reply to Editor-in-Chief (msg # 103):

Let's go with 12 XP for this one.  Need to get back to my books to make sure I did that right.  Been a bit since I did XP for GURPS

Alrightie.  Here we go

You wake up the next morning, fairly sore.  Bill let you sleep on the old, broken sofa in his "employees lounge".  Which is really just a breakfast nook off his little cubby hole of an apartment behind the register.

He serves up some microwaved burritos and coffe.

"Mornin'!  It's a great day, isn't it?"

He obviously hasn't looked outside.  The area around the gas station looks like WWIII paid a visit.  Your car is officially totaled.

"I know you said you gotta get up the road.  But my truck's like your car.

"But we should get a trucker pullin' through.  I bet you can hitch a ride.  Where are you headed anyway?  I got a CB that still works.  I'll see if I can find someone headin' that way."

"A great day, huh?" Graham surveys the damage outside the window. The gas station looks like Katrina's uglier, nastier sister had rolled through. And his car - how did that phrase go? The Lord giveth and taketh? Graham would love to know when the giveth part of all that shit kicked in. And how the hell is Bill going to recover from this? He must have an excellent insurance policy.

"You bet, Bill. Thanks for the food." Graham sips his black coffee and considers his options. He knows Tim and Kaitlyn are in Nashville now. He had thought to check in on them before continuing the drive up to Canada, but without a car now, his options are more limited. Maybe he could take an Amtrak up to Quebec and then work his way across the continent.

"I was heading up to Nashville to see some family up there. Yeah, I'd love a ride if you can swing it." Nashville first. And it might be worth it to check in with the city's magical community.

In reply to Graham Snow (msg # 106):

Let me double check my notes to see where we are going.  I'll answer the post tomorrow.

Thanks

In reply to Graham Snow (msg # 106):

Nashville ho.

I'd recommend making his hometown Bristol.  But that's just me.

It takes Bill a few hours, but soon a rig driven by an old guy named Gus blows his horn from the parking lot.

Bill pushes a knapsack into your hands.  "For your trouble.  Wish it was more, but best I can do.  God speed and thanks.  Thanks a bunch."

The package contains a change of clothes, $228, some sodas and water bottles, a couple of sharing size Peanut M&Ms, some wrapped up hotdogs with mustard and kraut packs, a travel size set of screwdrivers, a little silver whistle, four lollipops, four randomly flavored packets of Pop Tarts, a tin of Rainbow Sours, an orange, a Swiss Army knife, a stopwatch, a raggedy copy of A Canticle for Liebowitz, a flashlight, a ball of twine, and several unopened packages of batteries.

Gus turns out to be the talkative sort, but not invasively so.

He pulls through Antioch and stops at a gas station on Interstate 24.

"Sorry bud.  'fraid this is as far as I can take ya.  You got someone you can call from here?"

"Uh, thanks, Bill." It seems to Graham that Bill has gotten the better end of this. Graham lost a car and gave up his phone when he saved Bill's life, but at least Bill isn't leaving him completely empty-handed.  With his haversack in one hand and Bill's backpack in the other, Graham climbs into the truck.

During the ride, Graham engages in conversation with Gus and asks him about his work, what he likes about driving a truck, how long Gus is on the road, how often he gets home, what he likes to do for fun. Standard small talk. Graham avoids going into detail about his work and world but does talk a bit about New Orleans and how much he loves the city.

At the gas station, Graham disembarks and turns to thank the truck driver. "Hey, don't mention it. Thanks for the ride, Gus. I'll figure something out from here."

Now, getting his bearings, he looks around at the area. An Enterprise would be amazing right now. Or at least a Waffle House to get some grub and think about what to do next. There's always more hitchhiking.

OOC: Bristol works! I've never been up to that part of the state. I miss Tennessee, even though in college we had our own version of "Rocky Top":  "We hate Rocky Top! Go to hell, Tennessee!"

In reply to Graham Snow (msg # 109):

I'm considering moving back there for retirement.  104 today in Texas and all week long is making it sound more and more attractive.

No Enterprise.  But there is an Awful Waffle on the other side of the Interstate.  There's also a McD's, a garage, and what you think is a warehouse.

Of course the truck stop is right there too.

Where to? Truck stop.  Waffle House.  McDonald's.  Garage.  Warehouse.  Or hitchike up the road

Your call at the moment

Graham reconsiders. As tempting as Waffle House is, he does have those wrapped hot dogs after all. He might as well eat them while they're still fresh. He decides to saunter over to the truck stop, get a coffee, and eat one or two of the dogs.

OOC: On second thought, he'll head to the truck stop, get a cup of black coffee, and eat two of the hot dogs.

It's 18 C here today, though we're still getting a ton of smoke from forest fires. It's been raining a lot, which isn't normal, but those fires are persistent.

A hot day here is 30 C. The tradeoff is -30 C and lower in the winter, but we have Chinook winds that thaw us out periodically, and it's often a toasty -10 C or so.

In reply to Graham Snow (msg # 111):

Here is Texas, we were at 40C today.  Supposed to stay in that range and got hotter over the next two weeks.

I'd kill for some Chinook winds about now.

This place isn't quite a Bucc ee's.  But it's pretty close.  It's large enough to have a decent sized deli, several rows of coffee machines, and all kinds of aisles.

You take a seat at one of the tables in the dining area and unwrap the dogs.  They're surprisingly plump and juicy.  As you sip on your Joe and nosh on your dogs, you can hear a couple of truckers a few seats away talking.

"I'm tellin' you!  Not makin' it up.  Swear it was as real as your fat ass sittin' in the chair across from me.  A blue cow.  It was standing by the side of the road.  And after I blew by it, it started running after me!  And it caught up to me!  It was just runnin' along me, down the damn interstate!  I was doin' 80 man!"

"You didn' tell this story to your dispatch didja?"

"Look.  You know me Bill. I'm not the kind to hop up on too many White Crosses.  I. Saw. It.  Blue Cow.  Standin' right beside the fuckin' Interstate."

"Sure sure."

There are several people with cell phones around.

There's something about a gas-station hot dog when you're hungry. Sure, it's packed full of preservatives, and it's about as nutritious as a cup of ramen, but there's just something so satisfying about eating one, especially if you have plenty of relish to slather on. At least it has some protein.

Graham would be scrolling through Tik Tok right now, but the Gulf has his phone now, and Graham suspects he isn't getting it back. But what he hears sounds more interesting than most of the mundane world's posting would be right now.

"A blue cow, you say?" Graham inserts himself into the conversation from several tables a way. "Like Babe, Paul Bunyan's blue ox? And running as fast as you were driving? That's damn interesting." He takes a swig of his coffee. "Whereabouts did you see it?" There probably isn't much money in chasing down wild cow tales, but Graham's interest is piqued.

OOC: It wasn't being chased by dozens of rat creatures, was it?

In reply to Graham Snow (msg # 113):

Stupid, stupid rat creatures.

The truckers blink at you, obviously surprised you did insert yourself.

But the one who was talking eventually nods.  "I didn' even think about Paul Bunyan.  Wasn't that ox named Babe or somethin'?  But no.  It wasn't that big.  Looked like a normal cow.  'cept it was blue and could run like Jesse Owens.

"I saw it on 24.  'tween Clarkesville and Pleasant View.  Not quite sure what mile marker.  You believe me bud?"