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goneawayworld2020-05-17 03:11 am
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SHIFTING THE PARADIGM - ADVERSE RIG EVENT

SHIFTING THE PARADIGM

PLOT DESCRIPTION
To say that the New Hires are unlucky is something of an understatement. After all, they're here, aren't they? They were the unlucky ones swept out of their worlds, left unconscious for Jorgmund to find, "hired," implanted with shock collars. They were unlucky enough to get caught, and now they're being mega, double, septuple screwed by a casual backhand of fate.
The rig doesn't often face a full breach. It does today.
The announcements start with a tinny warning: "RED ALERT: SEVERE STUFF STORM COALESCING OFF STARBOARD SIDE. PREPARE FOR RIG TO COME TO FULL STOP."
Anyone near windows can see it on the side facing the Wilds, a roiling, thundering mass of gray clouds that look a little more liquid than normal clouds. Lightning crackles, illuminating it from within but the color of the lightning isn't just white or yellow. Each thundering crackle flashes in a prism of unnatural colors.
The rig comes to a stop. Since it was going so slow, there isn't much of a change in momentum but they can feel it in the vibration of the braking mechanisms and creaking and groaning of tons of metal suddenly facing some minor strain. The storm expands up to the top of the atmosphere, anvil-shaped, flattening against the tropopause.
"RED ALERT: SEVERE STUFF STORM COALESCING STARBOARD SIDE. PREPARE FOR POSSIBLE ADVERSE RIG EVENT. SHELTER IN QUARTERS AND OTHER SHIELDED AREAS. CHILD CARE STAFF, RELOCATE YOUR CHARGES TO NEAREST SHIELDED BUNKER. ALL STAFF, REPORT ANY UNREALITY EVENTS TO RIG COMMAND FROM THE NEAREST ALARM PHONE, AND FIND SHELTER UNTIL SECURITY TEAM IS DEPLOYED."
The Stuff storm slams into the rig, making it sway just slightly. The wind pouring through the gaps in the rig structure howls in a way that sounds like inhuman screams. Thanks to the Stuff visibility drops to a very gray 0%.
A prerecorded message now starts playing. Celeste Lillian, with her soothing voice, speaking mantras:
"Staff members and couriers of hope, in this stressful time, I remind you to pause, take a moment, and breathe so deeply your lungs cannot hold any more of our Mother Earth's air. Breathe in, breathe out. The act of breathing is so precious because it's both necessary and voluntary. It is a gift you give yourself. Value yourself enough to give yourself the gift of a full, honest, complete breath."
Super helpful, right?
"Clear your minds, let go of any thoughts. Remember: 'The ocean changes. I can float.'"
But all hell breaks loose and mantras won't do a thing to stop it. The rig's many ventilation shafts have filters and metal covers to help shield against stuff, but they aren't replaced as often as they should be. Inspections are thorough but some material resources are scarce.
Stuff breaks through the covers and ventilation filters, sweeps through the rig, and reality gets less real.
"RED ALERT: FULL BREACH. RED ALERT: FULL BREACH. RED ALERT: FULL BREACH..."
SCENARIO #1 - PRODUCTIVITY

The rig's staff instantly increases by several orders of magnitude. The new employees don't talk and for the most part they don't pay attention to anyone else. They mill through the hallways, gesturing to each other as if they're colleagues walking and talking about the last meeting as they move through the halls.
Most of them are in full professional dress, suits and ties. But sometimes this dress is from a variety of eras, hearkening back to the idea of business. That means a lot of power suits and shoulder pads, and even some old fashioned bow ties, top hats, and glittering gold pocketwatch chains. Here and there, sometimes there's even a glimpse of someone in older merchant's clothing, flashy in a way that suggests "people send me regular complaints on cuneiform tablets about how I sold them inferior copper ingots." The mystery executives despawn and respawn randomly, phasing in and out of existence. Sometimes two will spawn in the same spot, somehow superimposed, like a glitch in a video game, twitching helplessly until reality goes "whoops!" and phases them back out of existence.
They have no faces, but the way they sometimes randomly turn to face the New Hires, staring them down, body language wary, makes it clear they can somehow see or sense without eyes. They sometimes speak with no mouths but the sounds don't sound like real language, and are always muffled.
New office or meeting room doors start flickering in and out of existence. Each time one appears it draws the nearest New Hires in, warping the metal floor in front of them so every step draws them inexorably inward. Inside, the New Hires find themselves pinned by stares from nonexistent eyes, the drones expectant. Maybe even impatient.
They're late.
Each room has a different scenario that must be satisfied to make the room go away, all of them the subconscious corporate imaginings of rig executives and staff, fears and secret wishes and ambitious aspirations all rolled together. The drones watch the New Hires carefully to make sure they follow "corporate policy" and obey the rules of the scenario, their body language growing more and more aggressive and threatening the more they fight it. They will eventually attack if New Hires don't follow through. There's no such thing as simply reporting someone to HR in their (nonexistent) eyes.
When each scenario is forced to completion by the New Hires playing ball until conditions are satisfied, the drones...dissolve. Trees suddenly sprout through their clothes, then flower. The petals scatter through a sudden breeze that always smells of grass and leaves and wet plants and gentle rains.
Finally free.
PROMPTS
a) resource management
The room has a table and chairs at the front. It's stacked with piles of unsharpened pencils and several electric or manual pencil sharpeners. The table looks out on rows of chairs, filled with faceless drones.
Watching... waiting...
Every time you finish sharpening a pencil there's light applause. It's a big pile of pencils, but at least it's an easy task. The drones don't seem to mind if you talk to break up the monotony.
Like so much of corporate life? Thrilling.
b) flipping through the deck
Have you ever had a nightmare where you had to do an oral test in front of the class that you weren't prepared for? Now imagine one where your teacher and classmates will beat you senseless if you get it wrong.
The slideshow being shown on the smartboard is completely nonsensical. That means the presentation can be just as nonsensical. New Hires can work together to bullshit on any topic, or maybe even just spout total nonsense. Either way, the drones around the conference table occasionally offer light applause and then turn to each other to confab in their nonsense mutterings, before turning back to watch once more.
When the meeting is perceived to be over, the drones stand, lightly clap, and flower.
Sometimes in rooms like this the drones hand over a list of corporate buzzwords that must be included, but they don't seem to care if it's in context.
Buzzwords: Break down the silos, tee it up, paradigm shift, low-hanging fruit, move the needle, run it up the flagpole, on the bleeding edge, synergy, core competency, leverage.
c) on the spot improvisation
Similar to the other presentation rooms except...
Oh, these are actual Jorgmund executives. The door sucked you into a normal meeting that they're cheerfully having despite the Stuff breach. They ask you your opinions on improving rig operations and quality of life and expect you to give honest answers.
But not too honest.
d) you've got some splainin' to do
You're handed hair nets and aprons and glared at until you put them on. The room is a small room in a factory line, with a conveyor belt passing through. The drone that henpecked you into putting on the aprons holds up a chocolate, points to the aperture the chocolates go through at the end of the conveyor belt, and shakes her head furiously. Then she wraps the chocolate in one of the wrappers from a stack of them, points back to the aperture and nods.
The garbled nonsense she "says" doesn't communicate it, but the gestures do: Wrapped chocolates go through, unwrapped ones don't.
Once the New Hires are in place in the conveyor line, the drone smacks a hand twice against the wall and the conveyor belt starts. Fortunately the drone leaves, but now the New Hires have chocolates they have to wrap, and they have to wrap them quickly.
The line is fast but not impossible. It's still a scramble and chocolate might have to be shoved in their hats and clothes to keep the drone from coming back and getting angry. Fortunately, you only have to reach a quote of 100 (as stated by a helpful sign on the wall) before the room spits you back out - sticky and smeared with chocolate - and fades away.
One perk: the chocolate won't disappear, but it's definitely some waxy, cheap stuff and sometimes the filling is a flavor that doesn't really pair well with chocolate.
e) the it crowd
You're led to desk with computers that don't actually work. Only nonsense words and memes (and nonsense memes) show up on the screens. That's fine because the people calling in on the phones are real people on the rig, trying to work despite the Stuff storm because of Company Loyalty™, and that means their problems are real stupid. Even laymen might be able to guide them through it.
They may include questions about the "cupholder," them not realizing the monitor has to be turned on, and issues easily resolved by a restart. Since the calls are real, there's a chance you can use some good old fashioned psychological engineering to gain useful things like usernames an passwords.
The drones don't seem to care if you chat among yourselves between calls, confer with one another (or mock the caller) while the phone is on mute, or whether the advice is even good. They only care that it's given. After a seemingly random quota is met, the drones expire, and room spits you back out and disappears. You'll find you have a small rubber duck in your pocket after you're spit back out again.
The ducks seem to not do anything. Yet.
Players can request the mods come up with idiotic IT issues for their thread.
f) breaking the ice
What is with this place's obsession with never-ending icebreakers?
This time it's less optional. You're are forced to sit in chairs across from each other or in a ring if more than two of you are pulled in. A sign on a small table between you says "2 truths, 1 lie" or "Truth or truth" (The drones seem to have forgotten the dare part). But sometimes a different game (of players' choosing) is displayed. The drones can seemingly sense whenever New Hires are lying and their behavior starts to grow hostile if they do, relaxing when they tell the truth.
The room won't release New Hires until there's been enough growth or honesty equivalent to a life-changing field trip.
g) corporate (property) restructuring
The drones are based on the thoughts of employees and that means the things they dream of doing, like taking a bat and going ham on a printer-copier. When you're pulled into a nonexistent department you're handed baseball bats and pointed at various pieces of office equipment.
The hostile language of the suited drones - also with their own baseball bats - means it would be wise for you to direct your un-vented frustrations at the equipment. All of it.
Or the drones might vent their aggression - with bats - at you. At least smashing shit up with a buddy - old or new - is cathartic? And that baseball bat can maybe be tucked away in a hideyhole somewhere for later use.
h) staring at the camera like...
This room is a small office space with chairs against a wall that has a window with closed blinds. The drones have a professional looking camera set up, pointing at the chairs, like it's some kind of confessional. These drones look more like the crew of a documentary than the other office drones, but have the same blank faces.
They gesture for the New Hires to sit down and hold up a paper that says: "Tell us how you really feel about this place and your fellow employees."
It's not like the drones are Jorgmund employees so maybe it's a safe place to let loose and have a vent session with a fellow New Hire? Interacting with each other during the vent gets nods of approval from the directors and crew. Trashing Jorgmund? Gets even more approval. They're loving that chemistry, guys.
i) wild card
Have a scenario idea that we haven't thought of? Go crazy! Pick some weird corporate scenario to play around with. The Stuff has plenty to work with thanks to the anxieties of the real corporate drones working for Jorgmund, and also because of all the office-related TV and movies they consume.
The room has a table and chairs at the front. It's stacked with piles of unsharpened pencils and several electric or manual pencil sharpeners. The table looks out on rows of chairs, filled with faceless drones.
Watching... waiting...
Every time you finish sharpening a pencil there's light applause. It's a big pile of pencils, but at least it's an easy task. The drones don't seem to mind if you talk to break up the monotony.
Like so much of corporate life? Thrilling.
b) flipping through the deck
Have you ever had a nightmare where you had to do an oral test in front of the class that you weren't prepared for? Now imagine one where your teacher and classmates will beat you senseless if you get it wrong.
The slideshow being shown on the smartboard is completely nonsensical. That means the presentation can be just as nonsensical. New Hires can work together to bullshit on any topic, or maybe even just spout total nonsense. Either way, the drones around the conference table occasionally offer light applause and then turn to each other to confab in their nonsense mutterings, before turning back to watch once more.
When the meeting is perceived to be over, the drones stand, lightly clap, and flower.
Sometimes in rooms like this the drones hand over a list of corporate buzzwords that must be included, but they don't seem to care if it's in context.
Buzzwords: Break down the silos, tee it up, paradigm shift, low-hanging fruit, move the needle, run it up the flagpole, on the bleeding edge, synergy, core competency, leverage.
c) on the spot improvisation
Similar to the other presentation rooms except...
Oh, these are actual Jorgmund executives. The door sucked you into a normal meeting that they're cheerfully having despite the Stuff breach. They ask you your opinions on improving rig operations and quality of life and expect you to give honest answers.
But not too honest.
d) you've got some splainin' to do
You're handed hair nets and aprons and glared at until you put them on. The room is a small room in a factory line, with a conveyor belt passing through. The drone that henpecked you into putting on the aprons holds up a chocolate, points to the aperture the chocolates go through at the end of the conveyor belt, and shakes her head furiously. Then she wraps the chocolate in one of the wrappers from a stack of them, points back to the aperture and nods.
The garbled nonsense she "says" doesn't communicate it, but the gestures do: Wrapped chocolates go through, unwrapped ones don't.
Once the New Hires are in place in the conveyor line, the drone smacks a hand twice against the wall and the conveyor belt starts. Fortunately the drone leaves, but now the New Hires have chocolates they have to wrap, and they have to wrap them quickly.
The line is fast but not impossible. It's still a scramble and chocolate might have to be shoved in their hats and clothes to keep the drone from coming back and getting angry. Fortunately, you only have to reach a quote of 100 (as stated by a helpful sign on the wall) before the room spits you back out - sticky and smeared with chocolate - and fades away.
One perk: the chocolate won't disappear, but it's definitely some waxy, cheap stuff and sometimes the filling is a flavor that doesn't really pair well with chocolate.
e) the it crowd
You're led to desk with computers that don't actually work. Only nonsense words and memes (and nonsense memes) show up on the screens. That's fine because the people calling in on the phones are real people on the rig, trying to work despite the Stuff storm because of Company Loyalty™, and that means their problems are real stupid. Even laymen might be able to guide them through it.
They may include questions about the "cupholder," them not realizing the monitor has to be turned on, and issues easily resolved by a restart. Since the calls are real, there's a chance you can use some good old fashioned psychological engineering to gain useful things like usernames an passwords.
The drones don't seem to care if you chat among yourselves between calls, confer with one another (or mock the caller) while the phone is on mute, or whether the advice is even good. They only care that it's given. After a seemingly random quota is met, the drones expire, and room spits you back out and disappears. You'll find you have a small rubber duck in your pocket after you're spit back out again.
The ducks seem to not do anything. Yet.
Players can request the mods come up with idiotic IT issues for their thread.
f) breaking the ice
What is with this place's obsession with never-ending icebreakers?
This time it's less optional. You're are forced to sit in chairs across from each other or in a ring if more than two of you are pulled in. A sign on a small table between you says "2 truths, 1 lie" or "Truth or truth" (The drones seem to have forgotten the dare part). But sometimes a different game (of players' choosing) is displayed. The drones can seemingly sense whenever New Hires are lying and their behavior starts to grow hostile if they do, relaxing when they tell the truth.
The room won't release New Hires until there's been enough growth or honesty equivalent to a life-changing field trip.
g) corporate (property) restructuring
The drones are based on the thoughts of employees and that means the things they dream of doing, like taking a bat and going ham on a printer-copier. When you're pulled into a nonexistent department you're handed baseball bats and pointed at various pieces of office equipment.
The hostile language of the suited drones - also with their own baseball bats - means it would be wise for you to direct your un-vented frustrations at the equipment. All of it.
Or the drones might vent their aggression - with bats - at you. At least smashing shit up with a buddy - old or new - is cathartic? And that baseball bat can maybe be tucked away in a hideyhole somewhere for later use.
h) staring at the camera like...
This room is a small office space with chairs against a wall that has a window with closed blinds. The drones have a professional looking camera set up, pointing at the chairs, like it's some kind of confessional. These drones look more like the crew of a documentary than the other office drones, but have the same blank faces.
They gesture for the New Hires to sit down and hold up a paper that says: "Tell us how you really feel about this place and your fellow employees."
It's not like the drones are Jorgmund employees so maybe it's a safe place to let loose and have a vent session with a fellow New Hire? Interacting with each other during the vent gets nods of approval from the directors and crew. Trashing Jorgmund? Gets even more approval. They're loving that chemistry, guys.
i) wild card
Have a scenario idea that we haven't thought of? Go crazy! Pick some weird corporate scenario to play around with. The Stuff has plenty to work with thanks to the anxieties of the real corporate drones working for Jorgmund, and also because of all the office-related TV and movies they consume.
SCENARIO #2 - VIOLENCE
Some beings created by Stuff are alive and/or sentient. These are the New, but the drones are not New. They don't think and are therefore unable to reify the occasional wisp of stuff around the rig. They're more like programs in the computer of reality or like animations set into motion by the minds animating them.
But even if they're not alive, they are dangerous. They have no brains, no vital organs, no easy way to kill them. Since you need a thick skin to survive corporate life, it's very hard to break through their skin. When this finally occurs they start bleeding odd substances and objects. Cyan, magenta, yellow, and black printer ink. Paper clips. Sometimes it's thumb tacks, which makes walking and fighting very fraught. Go down even once and you might have a butt or back full of them.
No matter how much they bleed, however, they don't deflate or bleed to death. Only total destruction or dismemberment can slow them down. Fortunately, how much it takes to damage them seems to always be magically scaled to what the New Hires in the room are capable of.
That means it's somewhat unwise to fight them but it's at least not impossible. New Hires that want to try will be given their weapons and gear if they manage to make their way down to the armory near the training room. While New Hires will be hunted down later if they don't return most weapons and specific gear items, the chaos means some of the more disposable items - grenades, arrows, throwing knives - might possibly be tucked away somewhere without notice. For later. Excuses can be made about their use or loss, after all.
Players that know ahead of a time they want a fight scenario can always list one of the other scenarios above and note their preference for combat.
Since New Hires will have to go to the armory to get equipped, they can also have some threads with weapons and others without, to suit player needs.
➤ Finite threat: While the doors can open anywhere and suck anyone in, the total number of rooms that need to be eliminated is finite. This means the New Hires clearing them out can eventually shut them all to avoid permanent, perilous addition to the rig's reality. They'll notice the number of doors that flash in and out of existence decreasing the more they go through scenarios.
➤ Opt out: Players may opt out of the plot by having it so New Hires mysteriously find their room door locked and impossible to open, even by force. Or players can make use of the "alternate reality" mechanic, where the characters are shifted temporarily into a calmer, alternate version of the timeline where they have a normal, quiet rig day. That band of possible reality will collapse and fold them back into the main rig reality when the event is over. This means if players want to completely ignore the event and work on their old threads, they don't even have to come up with a handwave. Their character might just be a little confused and need to be filled in when the event is over and reality folds them back in.
➤ NPC request: If you'd like the mods to npc a stupid IT call in a thread, hit the thread below and link to where they should come in.
➤ Questions: If you have questions about the event, want to know what your characters can get away with during the chaos, want to know if your characters can squirrel away secure info or grenades etc., feel free to hit the questions comment below to make your requests.
2 truths, 1 lie
"I'm an Aries, I will not hesitate to protect you while you do stupid shit like deliberately antagonize faceless monsters for no good reason, and I'm a natural brunette," she rattles off quickly. The drones seem somewhat soothed by her statement, though not entirely.
"Guess which one is the lie. Go on. Guess."
no subject
A drone stepped forward.
Ronan held up his hands in acquiescence. He didn't want to see Stacia rip their heads off. "Alright! Christ, calm down."
The drone stepped back.
Ronan took a deep breath and blew it all out through clenched teeth. "So which is it?"
no subject
Stacia snorted.
"The second one of course," she said. "My life is dangerous enough as it is, I have a low tolerance for people making it worse because they don't think about the consequences of running their mouths."
She leaned back in her chair and sighs. "Come on, chill out. There are worse party games they could be forcing us to play."
no subject
Another look at the faceless folk confirmed he was going to have to suck it up. "I'm a Scorpio, I own a farm, and I--" A pause. Just because he created all sorts of things didn't mean he was great at crafting lies. "Don't pay my bills."
Even Ronan wanted to hit himself for that one.
no subject
She glanced around at their audience. "Not now, of course."
"My whole family knows I'm a werewolf. I can run in heels. I like frogs."
no subject
lies by omissionredirection skills."Now you're just assuming things," he said. Then, without pausing, he added, "the frogs. That's the lie."
Ronan didn't know why you'd lie about running in heels. He hadn't exactly spent a lot of time with women. Either they didn't wear heels at all or they were like his mom who... wasn't the best example of a "normal" woman.
And picking the first one seemed like a bit of a minefield.
no subject
"I'm not saying you have any deep dark secrets or anything," Stacia said, giving him her most innocent look. "I'm just saying that I could probably find your secret stash of supernatural romance novels without you even knowing you'd given their location away."
She totally knows he's hiding something, and she's absolutely going to find it out.
"Bzzt. I do like frogs. They're pretty cool, if alarming to touch unexpectedly."
Especially when they are frog-shifters who think she's the coolest thing since opposable thumbs.
"The question is, it is your turn now or do I tell you which one is the actual lie?"
no subject
Behind them the drones started whispering in that dark, menacing way. He looked at them out of the corner of his eyes, then focused on Stacia again.
"Looks like you're supposed to tell me which one it is."
no subject
"In that case, it's the family one," she says. "As far as I know, my brother and my father have no idea."
Which, if he's paying attention and using his brain, doesn't tell him who in her family does know, unless he already knows about her family. A mother, a step-mother? Sister, sisters, non-binary siblings? Cousins, aunts, uncles? Pay attention, Ronan. Think.
"Your turn."
no subject
He looked at Stacia. Small family? Dead family? A secret passed from mother to daughter? And most of all-- was that really something he wanted to find out? God forbid she'd expect reciprocity once she revealed her secrets.
Oh, what the hell.
"Can't be easy to keep that from your family." Ronan said casually. He thought of how his older brother had apparently known about Ronan's dreams all along-- and of course never said a damn thing about it. "Unless your mom helped you. Is being a werewolf really bad enough you have to keep it from everyone?"
But it was his turn and he needed to go before their friends got restless. "I've been expelled, arrested, and I know three languages."
no subject
"My mother didn't help with shit."
She pressed her lips together, breathing deeply as she dragged all the rage back inside herself, where she could bottle it up until she needed it.
They still haven't talked about it, not really. Her mother could have warned her and never did.
"It's not easy to keep it from them, no," she answered breezily, like furious hiss she'd just let loose hadn't happened. But considering how much she'd needled him, Stacia was sure that he wasn't going to let it go. "But you know, magic nonsense. Plus, there are absolutely werewolf hunters out there."
Thank goodness they're playing Two Truths and a Lie instead of Truth or Dare. This time around, she actually has to think about it.
"I'm only half-confident on this one," she admitted. "Is it the languages?"
cw: shitty/neglectful parenting/child endangerment
Niall Lynch hadn't helped Declan and, Ronan knew that his father hadn't helped him either. Those were words he could say just as easily. His father hadn't taught him anything, even when he dreamed a flaming sword that nearly burned down his room. His father hadn't warned him about the people who wanted to kill them. His father had died.
If Ronan looked uncomfortable, it was from more than just Stacia's reaction. Some truths he just wasn't ready to face.
"Makes sense," he said quietly. And then, "I was never expelled. I dropped out."
no subject
"That would have been my second guess for the lie," she said, and declined to tease him about how happy he must have been to be arrested for his tough guy reputation.
Okay so, truths and lies that aren't about her family relationships, she can do this.
"I like thunderstorms, I used to have a tattoo, and my bedroom walls are painted blue."
The drones stirred and began to murmur among themselves. "What? I gave you two truths and a lie!"
no subject
...Were they?
Ronan looked quickly from the drones to Stacia. She didn't seem like she was lying about the last part. That left a question Ronan couldn't answer. "Then why are they mad?"
He was not the problem solver in any situation that didn't involve physical violence and he wasn't ready to commit to that.
no subject
"Anyway, thunderstorms, tattoo, blue walls," she said. "Guess."
no subject
"The tattoo." After he gave the answer, he finally looked at her. "I don't think you'd get it removed."
Some people had regrets but she didn't seem the type. Though given her previous interest in Ronan's tattoo, he guessed that she either had a cheap one or none at all.
cw: dismemberment
"My walls are pink," she said. She raised her right arm and tapped the inside of her wrist. "I had a moon here. Incredibly cheesy, but I was high on adrenaline and some other stuff at the time. Lost it when I lost the arm."
She very clearly had an arm right now, but the drones didn't seem to be objecting.
no subject
She definitely still had an arm and not a prosthetic either. That was interesting enough that he made no comment about a cheesy moon. He'd just take it as evidence that he could make better decisions while riding an adrenaline high.
...Wait...
cw: dismemberment
And they're dead now. Because fuck those guys.
no subject
That might be too personal but like that thought would occur to Ronan, at least when it came to revenge.
no subject
And she'll just skip over whether or not she had a hand in those deaths...
cw: murder
He certainly would've preferred justice when it came to Greenmantle. The revenge had been worth everything he went through to get it, especially since it kept his loved ones safe, but he wished he hadn't needed to make those sacrifices.
"My father was murdered," he said. The words surprised himself and what was worse, he couldn't take it back. But he could continue the game. "I drive a BMW and I play tennis."
Not his best but the the best he could do at the moment.
Re: cw: murder
Oops, she'd meant that as a bonus two-truths-and-a-lie. But since he'd sprung ahead with his own, she'll just fill him in later if it becomes relevant to him.
Stacia cocks her head to the side. "You don't seem like a tennis player, so I'm just going to say that sucks and I'm sorry. I don't have any advice to share on that topic."
A beat.
"You know, cars."
See, she's willing to give you an 'out' sometimes, Ronan.
no subject
When the drones began to whisper to each other, their voices somehow menacing, Ronan wondered if that wasn't close enough to a lie to count.
He turned to face them. "What's your problem? I'm not one anymore. That's the lie."
Then he realized that their faceless eyes had focused on Stacia.
"...Do you know what their problem is?" His southern accent blurred the first two words together.
cw: murder
She turned back to Ronan. "I gave you another two truths and a lie. Five of the six of them are dead, the sixth was ruled...young enough that she could probably turn her life around with appropriate guidance and support." Not that Stacia wasn't still going to be keeping tabs on the other Garou. "Since she was just part of my maiming rather than my packmates' murders, I was willing not to press it."
As far as the little idiot knows, her pack literally tore each other apart because of something she said. Stacia's willing to let her walk away carrying that pain.
Re: cw: murder
Re: cw: murder
Re: cw: murder
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