IC II: DH The Purity of Sacrifice

[Bennosuke]

Arl signaled for another round for each of them, letting Pip take first choice as was his custom.

"It must be something to see, all those ships... cargos from Emperor knows where! Arl said, in his best wistful voice.

Pip nodded his head vigorously, greasy thinning hair flopping almost wetly. He stopped the motion when he was struck by the sudden need to burp; creating a stench of raw alcohol that crept across the table to Arl. Eyes staring down at his half emptied cup, Pip replied, "Yup. Makesh you feel closhe to the Emperor." Eyes still fixed on his drink, a bafoonish grin spreads across Pip's face, showing a number of blackened sickly teeth spread apart by the absence of their lost brothers. "Honestly, makesh you wanna go... back up there." With one free hand he points up at the ceiling, while with the other, he brings the glass of rotgut up to his mouth and takes a noisy slurp.

************************************************

The three questions:
1. Drimmles current status, where he's located, is he calling the shots or is he being "minded" (i.e was he relatively loyal to us or not).
2. Their organisation and who they work for and why they are following us and their mission.
3. Their current deployment locations and area coverage, numbers, security at Drimmles current location etc.

Sifting through the woman's thoughts was like navigating a vast network of rivers. Marcella felt herself pulled forward as she moved deeper into the spy's consciousness, as she attempted to direct her awareness towards the information she sought. Her first answer comes in a near stream of consciousness. Marcella was aware of how this woman (Serellia was her name) distrusted Drimmle and thought of him as a cheap employer. While she didn't keep tabs on the man, Serellia imagined Drimmle holed up and scared in his mansion, aware that something bad had happened to him, which was why she and her colleagues had been hired. It seemed that Serellia worked for a private security force that was unapologetically named "The Star Guard Force". There were at a total of twelve officers that Drimmle had payed for. Serellia and five others had been deployed out onto the streets surrounding Ser Drimmle's property, and were expected to report if they had any sightings of a group of Credit Guilders nearby.

... Marcella also knew that Serellia hadn't had the chance to call in such a sighting, but it was likely that someone they passed had done so by now...

The other six security officers were now actively patrolling Ser Drimmle's property, after someone had trashed his security servitor.

I am going to hold here; first to see if Marcella is going to try to "sustain" her Dominate power over the spy, two to allow Marcella... and Milo to react to Hound's update that they "have company". Interestingly, there isn't much information on maintaining Dominate that has to do with resisting pain, such as an attack on the character's wrist. However, it does make it clear that any action that is suicidal... such as staying still while someone puts a gun to your head, would allow for another contested roll. I think I want to hold off on allowing Milo to attack the woman's wrist, as this will be nigh on impossible if Marcella doesn't maintain control of the spy's body.

By the alley entrance, the three draw closer. The ex-guardsman hollers blindly into the alley, "Hey, what's going on here?" The trio still just under ten meters from the mouth of alley.

[bramblefoot]

milo will call back "credit guilder business. we have reason to believe shes shorting the guild. i will warn you that the same goes for interferers. do you really want your tithe to go up?"

deceive test

(1d100)[76]

[BananaPhone]

Marcella

Marc's mind sifted through the neuronal networks and tethered memories, her prying mindseye scooping up much that this woman knew. Though an even deeper, all-encompassing scan was possible, now simply wasn't the time. She had revealed what they needed to know.

Snapping back into reality, exhaling and releasing the woman, Marcella drew in a few deep breaths to recover herself. She had strained herself out on two powers, two complicated and intensive manifestations simultaneously, and she could feel the tensions releasing from her muscles as she recomposed herself. As the spy came out of her mental lockdown, she doubtlessly noticed the presence of Hound who had his suppressed pistol in hand.

"Put your arms out to your sides please, ma'am," Marcella asked, her expression gentle but with a detached demeanor. Knowing she had no hope of ever being intimidating, she opted for quiet politeness instead, "if you make any move for a weapon, to call for help or to touch a vox-comms, my associate will shoot you. Please spare us all the trouble."

Looking past the woman and to Hound, Marcella spoke quietly.

"Drimmle hired them, they're private security. There's 6 deployed out here, 6 at his residence where he is holed up. They were to report in any sightings of Credit Guilders. This ones name is Serellia, and she doesn't trust Drimmle either and thinks he doesn't pay enough. But they are with the The Star Guard Force, likely with contracts to other nobles, and so I doubt they would want their reputation tarnished by accepting bribes. This one has not reported in yet, but the others likely have."

Acting as if the woman wasn't there, doubtless recovering from just coming out of both being mentally dominated and having her mind invaded and sifted through, Marc tilted her head as she heard Milo speaking down to others around the corner of the alley - other agents of Drimmle, no doubt.

Looking back over to Hound, she gestured towards the alley with the new comers and then to Serellia.

"Should I put them under, Sir? Leaving a bunch of corpses in the alley might draw too much attention. But if we just tie them up and leave them here we'll have a few hours before they're able to interfere and they won't go to the Arbite's, because what private security wants the reputation of having to rely on the authorities to bail them out?"

[Wyndeward]

Pip nodded his head vigorously, greasy thinning hair flopping almost wetly. He stopped the motion when he was struck by the sudden need to burp; creating a stench of raw alcohol that crept across the table to Arl. Eyes staring down at his half emptied cup, Pip replied, "Yup. Makesh you feel closhe to the Emperor." Eyes still fixed on his drink, a bafoonish grin spreads across Pip's face, showing a number of blackened sickly teeth spread apart by the absence of their lost brothers. "Honestly, makesh you wanna go... back up there." With one free hand he points up at the ceiling, while with the other, he brings the glass of rotgut up to his mouth and takes a noisy slurp.

Arl slurred his words with a drunkeness he didn't quite feel.

"Wha's it like, being aboard one of dem grand ships? Whas the kinna things aboard?"

[Wyndeward]

Orla is unhappy to have been proven right. She will slide her hand cannon out of her robes to join the knife she's already carrying in her other hand. She has no idea if Arl is paying attention but if he can see her from where she's hiding she'll mouth Wait towards him. If you really had to shoot someone it was always better to do it from behind while they were distracted.

Arl gives Orla a quick nod, then goes back to lining up his shot.

[rax]

"Should I put them under, Sir? Leaving a bunch of corpses in the alley might draw too much attention. But if we just tie them up and leave them here we'll have a few hours before they're able to interfere and they won't go to the Arbite's, because what private security wants the reputation of having to rely on the authorities to bail them out?"

"Do it - the less violence the better," Hound agrees.

Lifting his gun, he points it at Serellia's head. "You are a professional. You should be aware that we are very serious people and we will not be swayed from our course of action. You understand that if you cause us any trouble, you will be the first to die, yes? Nod if you understand, then sit down against that wall," he says quietly to her.

[BananaPhone]

Marcella

"Do it - the less violence the better," Hound agrees.

Marcella nodded.

"Yes Sir."

Her psyche pushed out of her mind and towards the four others present: the woman before her and the three in the alleyway, a screeching, high-pitched wail along an exhausting timbre that only they could perceive, much to their detriment, as the psykers mind ate into their nervous systems to shut them down.

[Haval]

Orla has realised she is largely dependent on how the rest of the group chooses to behave here. The main problem with using guns out in the open would be who chose to come looking. Perhaps the Interrogator had the clout to make the Enforcers go away in the worse case situation but that wouldn't help if the cops just decided to shoot first rather then arresting them. If it ever got really bad perhaps she could leave them to it.

[Bennosuke]

milo will call back "credit guilder business. we have reason to believe shes shorting the guild. i will warn you that the same goes for interferers. do you really want your tithe to go up?"

Father Milo's call doesn't receive any responses, though Arl and Orla witness the ex-guardsman sneer.

"Put your arms out to your sides please, ma'am," Marcella asked, her expression gentle but with a detached demeanor. Knowing she had no hope of ever being intimidating, she opted for quiet politeness instead, "if you make any move for a weapon, to call for help or to touch a vox-comms, my associate will shoot you. Please spare us all the trouble."

As Marcella releases her mental grasp, the woman stumbles back slightly. She utters an audible gasp, and another river of blood pours out over her bottom lip. Eyes going wide till almost the entire orb is visible in the sockets, she puts a hand up, as if she had not heard Marcella's words at all. Breathlessly she utters, "What... what on Terra did you do to me?" The blood is now trickling down her chin and neck, creating droplet and rivulet stains over the front of her pink day dress. With terror etched onto her face, the spy's gaze jumps around the alley, frantically registering where she is as she tries to process what has just happened.

Lifting his gun, he points it at Serellia's head. "You are a professional. You should be aware that we are very serious people and we will not be swayed from our course of action. You understand that if you cause us any trouble, you will be the first to die, yes? Nod if you understand, then sit down against that wall," he says quietly to her.

The gesture causes the woman to flinch, as if it were the first time a gun had ever been pointed at her. She whimpers a little, but after a moment seems to get a hold of herself. She slowly raises her head up, bringing a hardened glare back at Hound. She raises both hands, as she nods in compliance. Then very slowly she lowers herself into a squat, all the time her eyes remain fixed defiantly on Hound.

Marcella nodded.

"Yes Sir."

Her psyche pushed out of her mind and towards the four others present: the woman before her and the three in the alleyway, a screeching, high-pitched wail along an exhausting timbre that only they could perceive, much to their detriment, as the psykers mind ate into their nervous systems to shut them down

Within moments the air was charged with an almost electric energy. Marcella directs her psychic voice out, targeting the Star Guard Force members. Though the attack was inaudible to the others, the psychic shriek was enough to knock a man fully unconscious. All four members were struck suddenly, crying out, reaching for their ears and wincing in pain. The guardsman and the old woman both dropped to the ground unconscious, blood tricking from their eyes and ears. Despite Hound's command, Serellia dropped to all fours, pushing her forehead into the pavement, nails clawing at her hair.

But the man in the red frockcoat remained upright. Unclasping his gloved hands from his head, he looked around in shock at his collapsed companions. Whispering something inaudible under his breath, he draws the rapier in one hand, the pistol in the other, and begins charging into the alley.

(OOC: Not going to ask for initiative here, because I don't think combat is necessary)

************************************************** *

Arl slurred his words with a drunkeness he didn't quite feel.

"Wha's it like, being aboard one of dem grand ships? Whas the kinna things aboard?"

The question draws another foolish grin across the man's narrow face. He chuckles and replies, "Ish like bein' home!" He slaps his knee and chuckles again, though it leads into a fit of weak coughs. When Pip has finally recovered himself, he drains his glass, and when he places it back on the table he says, "Better hurry up with yoursh." Then he leans across the table toward Arl, resting an elbow so that he can support his heavy head in one hand. "You've never been on a ship?"

[Wyndeward]

************************************************** *



The question draws another foolish grin across the man's narrow face. He chuckles and replies, "Ish like bein' home!" He slaps his knee and chuckles again, though it leads into a fit of weak coughs. When Pip has finally recovered himself, he drains his glass, and when he places it back on the table he says, "Better hurry up with yoursh." Then he leans across the table toward Arl, resting an elbow so that he can support his heavy head in one hand. "You've never been on a ship?"

Arl "clumsily" knocks back the rest of his drink, letting half of it roll of chin, the pastes wistful look on his face.

"Nope, ne're been aboard so mush a shuttle, let alone a grand ship like that.

[Wyndeward]

Within moments the air was charged with an almost electric energy. Marcella directs her psychic voice out, targeting the Star Guard Force members. Though the attack was inaudible to the others, the psychic shriek was enough to knock a man fully unconscious. All four members were struck suddenly, crying out, reaching for their ears and wincing in pain. The guardsman and the old woman both dropped to the ground unconscious, blood tricking from their eyes and ears. Despite Hound's command, Serellia dropped to all fours, pushing her forehead into the pavement, nails clawing at her hair.

But the man in the red frockcoat remained upright. Unclasping his gloved hands from his head, he looked around in shock at his collapsed companions. Whispering something inaudible under his breath, he draws the rapier in one hand, the pistol in the other, and begins charging into the alley.

Arl gives his best steely look and lines up his shot on the charging popinjay, drawling in a loud but matter-of-fact voice "I wouldn't do that if I were you..."

[bramblefoot]

milo will point the gun at the man, wait for him to get out of sight from the proles in the street, and then put a shot into him. the shot goes wide. milo sighs and gives the gun a prefunctory smack to punish it for its disobedience

bs test tn 56

(1d100)[73]

(1d10+4)[13]

[Haval]

Orla will follow Arl's lead by pointing her own gun at the man before whistling to get his attention. She had no idea what had just happened but assumed Marcella might have had something to do with it.

If there was no indication she might have to use her weapon she'll lean down to check to see if the old woman seemed to still be breathing. Her gun will remain loosely pointed in the man's direction even as she bends down.

[BananaPhone]

Marcella

Marc sent her psyche wailing across the four unfortunate Star Guards, all four of them gripping at their skulls as the overwhelming static screamed down their nervous system and rendered two of them unconscious within seconds. It was not a pleasant experience, the sensation being the equivalent to running an exhausting fifty mile marathon compressed into a few seconds.

Hearing the couple tumble over, Marcella opened her eyes. Seeing the woman on the ground whom she had interrogated, was barely with them, the Psyker then looked in the direction of the others; the flamboyantly dressed man rounding the corner and into three waiting pistols pointed at him. Milo gave what Marcella assumed was a warning shot as it went wide (and she thanked the Emperor he had a suppressor on the weapon), while Arl explained the situation to the man.

"Don't worry, she's not dead," Marcella said to Orla, noting she was taking the downed womans pulse.

"They're just sleeping for a while."

Assuming the man surrenders, Marcella trots over to the downed woman and man. She squats, grips the woman by her wrists, and uses her own leg-power to drag her back around the corner into their enclave.

[Haval]

"Don't worry, she's not dead," Marcella said to Orla, noting she was taking the downed womans pulse.

"They're just sleeping for a while."

'Just wondered.' Orla shrugged. She didn't especially care about whether these people were dead or not. At least they seem to have gone down quietly. 'The stuff you do.' She looks impressed.

[Bennosuke]

Arl "clumsily" knocks back the rest of his drink, letting half of it roll of chin, the pastes wistful look on his face.

"Nope, ne're been aboard so mush a shuttle, let alone a grand ship like that.

"Sure, sure," the man says with a sleepy nod of his head (though it sounds more like sher, sher). After a moment, his eyes brighten a little as if remembering something and he says, "Ya shaid you wanted to know about someone? A rogue trader or shomethin'?"

************************************************** *******

Spoiler: OOC

Show

See OOC thread for the main scene

[Haval]

Noting that the man wasn't backing down, Orla will take a shot at his leg. It was technically self-defense.

Spoiler: ooc

Show

Initiative 15

Half Action - Aim
Half Action - Hand Cannon

vs. BS 42 (-10 Called Shot with Deadeye Shot) (+10 Short Range) (+10 Aim)
(1d100)[4]
Any damage
(1d10+4)[6]

[BananaPhone]

Marcella

At receiving Orla's compliment, Marcella smiled bashfully.

Until the shooting started.

Time seemed to slow down as the flamboyantly dressed fellow took umbradge to being shot at by Milo, bringing his weapon up to level at the group. Orla responded in kind.

"Wait, n - !" is all the Psyker got out before the handcannon went off.

Out of reflex, Marc shot a part of her mind out to seize the hostile mans faculties and bring him under control.

[Wyndeward]

"Sure, sure," the man says with a sleepy nod of his head (though it sounds more like sher, sher). After a moment, his eyes brighten a little as if remembering something and he says, "Ya shaid you wanted to know about someone? A rogue trader or shomethin'?"

************************************************** *******

Spoiler: OOC

Show

See OOC thread for the main scene

Arl hiccuped and smiled. Still slurring his words, he replied "Yesh... Fella's name was Cassimire... cut a mighty powerful figger, walking like a real toff -- like he could buy'nsell the planet..."

[Bennosuke]

Arl hiccuped and smiled. Still slurring his words, he replied "Yesh... Fella's name was Cassimire... cut a mighty powerful figger, walking like a real toff -- like he could buy'nsell the planet..."

Pip's eyes immediately go wide, and a grin spreads across his face. "Casmirre? As in Rogue Trader Perrus Casmirre?" he asks, though it comes out sounding more like 'cashmere', "I know that bloke. Worked on his ship many timesh. Doeshn't come around much no more though." Pip's thoughts stray here as he looks down at his empty glass. Still grinning he looks back up at Arl and says, "Any chance ya wanna buy ush another?"

[Wyndeward]

Arl gives his best steely look and lines up his shot on the charging popinjay, drawling in a loud but matter-of-fact voice "I wouldn't do that if I were you..."

Arl mutters a curse about the precipitous nature of some folks and opens fire.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

BS of 49+20(max aim)+10+10 (semi-automatic burst) -10 (headshot) = 79

(1d100)[17]

(1d10+5)[11]

[Wyndeward]

Arl mutters a curse about the precipitous nature of some folks and opens fire.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

BS of 49+20(max aim)+10+10 (semi-automatic burst) -10 (headshot) = 79

[roll0]

[roll1]

My bad -- should have been 69... I cannot fire a semi-automatic burst for a called shot.

[Wyndeward]

Pip's eyes immediately go wide, and a grin spreads across his face. "Casmirre? As in Rogue Trader Perrus Casmirre?" he asks, though it comes out sounding more like 'cashmere', "I know that bloke. Worked on his ship many timesh. Doeshn't come around much no more though." Pip's thoughts stray here as he looks down at his empty glass. Still grinning he looks back up at Arl and says, "Any chance ya wanna buy ush another?"

Arl smiles and signals the waitress for another round.

[Bennosuke]

Arl mutters a curse about the precipitous nature of some folks and opens fire.

Arl snaps off a shot forcing the man in red to dart to the side. There is a sudden flash of red as the slug sheers the side of the man's face, lifting him off of his feet.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Arl a makes successful called shot for the face, dealing a raw 11 damage, the man fails to dodge. After TB this drops the damage down to 8 as his head is unarmored

Noting that the man wasn't backing down, Orla will take a shot at his leg. It was technically self-defense.

Orla is next to respond, her hand cannon roaring in the alley. Her shot wing's the man's leg before his feet hit the ground. When he does land, the man in red's legs collapse under him, and he stumbles to a knee, weapons still in hand.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Orla's called shot on the leg lands. He's wearing armor and damage roll isn't great, dropping it to one additional damage.

Out of reflex, Marc shot a part of her mind out to seize the hostile mans faculties and bring him under control.

Marcella is only able to finish reaching out with her mind, after the gunfight has started. But as the man in red goes down on one knee, she takes over his faculties. The man is successfully dominated and under Marcella's control. It is technically now the man's turn, which Marcella can dictate, though I suspect she will hold him still and tell the other's not to attack?

Otherwise we will get to Hound knocking out Serellia with a second pistol whip.

***********************************************

The waitress looks to be too young to be in such a joint, her face a rash of oily skin and acne. When she turns away Pip nods his head and repeats himself, "Yep, I know the old Rogue Trader. Heck of a fella'. Why ya wanna know about him?"

[bramblefoot]

milo will pull a red cloth over his mouth and nose and snap on a pair of black leather gloves, relieving the popinjay of his weapons. he tucks them into his bag, and sighs. "silencers are a godsend, orla" he says. next he snags the shock staff by the handle, and then will open the ex-guardsmans coat to see what is inside.

assuming they're not interrupted, he'll strip em down to their skivvies and then let the psyker tie them up

bennosuke

can you deduct a red face cloth and a pair of black leather gloves from milos funds

[Haval]

'I'll pick one up next time I'm at the store.' Orla replies flippantly. She'll watch Milo's looting with curiosity, 'Normally when something like this happens I'd like to put some distance between me and the mess, but maybe that all works differently when Marcella's here.' She'll look towards Marcella and Hound.

[BananaPhone]

Marcella


Marcella poured a part of her mind into the skull of the flamboyantly dressed man - right after it was almost blown off by Arl.

Flinching gently, smelling and seeing the blood, Marc seized the mans faculties and directed him over to kneel with the others, where he would be bound.

"Orla's right," the psyker said to Milo.

"You'll have to give their weapons back. In 1 kilometer from here we're just a group of credit guilders, but those weapons connect us to this scene. Just take their comms." she explained to the man, before she turned her eyes to look at the one she had under her mental power.

"Go to sleep," she said softly, the mans eyes closing as he slumped down next to his fellows.

"Also, sorry..." the psyker reached out for Orla with her hands, gently taking her gun off of her.

"We're better off giving anyone that comes across this a story to go with; this woman was accosted and shot them back. We'll get you a replacement later. I'll let you use my firearm." she explained, wiping Orla's handcannon down of finger prints and then putting it into the hand of the woman in pink, who was doubtlessly off to slumber land after Hound pistol-whipped her unconscious.

Once that was done, Marc gestured down the alley, "we have to get going; someone probably heard that and those two will be waking back up in a few minutes."

[Wyndeward]

The waitress looks to be too young to be in such a joint, her face a rash of oily skin and acne. When she turns away Pip nods his head and repeats himself, "Yep, I know the old Rogue Trader. Heck of a fella'. Why ya wanna know about him?"

"Like I said, he prolly could buy'n'sell this plannet... 'es free to come and go as he will, not like us folk. I've ne'er even been beyond midhive - it just is sumfin interest'n to me."

[Haval]

'Don't care about their stuff.' Orla will glance up for any windows that were close enough for potential witnesses. 'Just saying we shouldn't hang about. Just in case.' Orla will pass Marcella her gun. She still had an autopistol on her.

To Arl, 'Nice shot.'

[bramblefoot]

milo sighs. "real nice shock cane tho" he says, tucking it inside his jacket, where a single long pocket is. "nobodys gonna notice" he says soothingly to marcella. "the pocket has an inbuilt null sensor. ill take it and get it stripped of all the frills" its quite obvious that milo is very unwilling to part with this