The Found Arcana – Chapter 5 [IC]
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The Found Arcana – Chapter 5 [IC]
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Bobby stood around, stairing uselessly at the drug den, AM had been taken in. At least he could pretend to enjoy his apples – although by now the novelty had washed off and he already felt his stomach constrict a bit.
When AM didn’t sent a distress signal, he began looking around. He had half a mind of reminding the Ancients that they weren’t supposed to have fun here – but that was something Jawsey or even better AM should convey. Instead he focused on watching the different gangers, trying to get a feel for who despised whom inside their respective gang. Inciting in gang violence and discontent had to be the more effective way to get one side of the alliance tossed out.
And since he knew, the Crimson Crush was barely keeping it together at all times anyway… Bobby began searching for their inofficial leader – the woman who seemed to keep it all together. If he could somehow neutralize her, the whole thing could implode.
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Jawsey is pointed toward one of the BTL dens.
“Everything you might want in there, chummer. Dreamchips, moodchips, personafixes, tripchips, Cal Hots, and everything in between. Careful which den you walk into though: the Rusted Stils usually take one over. They don’t smell that great. Or look that great. And they’re probably radioactive. And they’re not that happy when they wake up.”
*****
Bobby finds the woman in the gambling hall. She’s at the craps table with three Crimson Crush orks, all of whom look a bit young and a bit bored. It seems clear that they’d rather be elsewhere at the party, but they’re at the gambling tables because of the woman.
She isn’t doing nearly as well as the Ancients. She seems to be breaking even, maybe even up a bit, but she’s not winning hand-over-fist like the elven boys in neon green are.
*****
To AM, Widow says, “I wasn’t asking you to keep watch with me. I was explaining what I am doing. What we do both here at the party and down on the streets. Constant vigilance.”
The cyberhand strumming her stack of Crimson Gold freezes suddenly at the mention of Nightmare being a powerful spirit.
“What kind of spirit? You have proof of this?” After contemplating the answers, she asks with an important tone, “What would Iktomi have us do?” You get the sense that both AM and the Spyders are included when she says “us”.
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Bobby joined her at her table: “Fancy seeing you here. You know that those games are rigged, don’t you? The Ancients are winning because Urubia wants to distract them. You are barely breaking even because she wants you lean and hungry. You are just a puppet for her.
You are doing an amazing job keeping the Crimson Crush in a semblance of order. I’d say you are wasting your talent being a fat fish in a pond filled with scum. And you know what happens sooner or later with such a fish? They bite down on a hook and then… well you know what happens to a fish like that.”
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“I dig what you do Widow. I find it very honorable.” she says approving the vigilance type.
When asked about Nightmare she considers telling her that Nightmare is a bug spirit, but that woman probably knows everything there is to know about such spirits, so AM decides to tell the truth. “Nightmare is a free spirit of fire which is unsurprising considering that he leads a bunch of violent pyromaniacs. Thing is, such spirits feed on the memories, emotions, and fears of our kind leaving their victims empty husks of what they once were. Robbing them of their very identity, I know because I had to make a deal with a similar devil to get this information. I cannot strictly prove it to you, but I have a friend that can share memories through a mind link spell and show you if you feel the need to verify my claim.”
When asked what would Iktomi ask us to do she responds. Iktomi wins by laying the web and by having patience and foresight. We may need to remove Nightmare from the equation in the future, but it would be almost impossible if such a move would trigger a war with all the stakeholders in Redmond. So we need the Haloweeners as isolated as possible, which means that either they don’t join the alliance, or as few factions as possible join it.
I’ll try to accomplish both as a form of hedging the risk. From the Spyders, I’ll expect to be on the right side of this conflict. Anything else that you can contribute is a bonus to me, and one of these days should an opportunity present itself, I’ll do my share in sending this spirit back home, ridding us of its punishment. “
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The woman gives Bobby an appraising look. She glances at a vacant spot at the table, wordlessly inviting him to join the game.
She looks sober and amused. Her eyes are sharp and she doesn’t seem to be under the effect of any substances. This is much like it was in the streets, when she was the clear-eyed one in charge. Bobby thinks he even catches her eyes darting down to his fruit for a moment.
The Crimson Crush gangers around her grumble when Bobby refers to them as scum, but she silences them by slightly raising her hand.
“Come now,” she says with a sly smile. “Say the whole quote. ‘Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look. He thinks too much. Such men are dangerous.'” The corner of her mouth is up in a clear hint of a smile.
“Seven!” calls the dealer. The woman, as a pass bettor, wins a bit of money.
“Yes, she wants us lean and hungry,” the woman replies. “That’s when we’re dangerous, and when we’re dangerous is when we’re useful. I would think that you, of all people, might understand that.”
“Eleven!” calls the dealer. The woman wins a little more money.
She juts her chin toward the Ancients, who are still on a hot streak. “Who gets fattened? The lambs being led to the slaughter. Don’t worry your pretty head about me. Or the Ancients.”
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“Oh I understand hunger.” He put an apple next to her with an inviting nod.
“I don’t worry about you and yours. I worry about all of us going down in flames. Tying the knot with the Halloweeners… since the metaphors are already flying low and fast: You are about to ride the tiger and playing with fire. You won’t be able to get off without getting eaten and you are going to get burned.
Don’t believe me? Have a meeting with Nightmare in person. Not with his underlings. Find out for yourself who he truly is. And when you do, get in contact with me. I guarantee you, you’ll need our help by then.
Bobby put his hand in his considerably lighter fruit basket and pulled out a pineapple.
“For your boys. A bit of vitamins can’t hurt them. And I don’t care in which of their ends they put it.”
Then he turned around to go, quite aware that he might just have provoked the Crush to an unhealthy degree.
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The woman’s eyes flash a bit at the mention of “hunger”. She traces a finger around the apple before palming it.
“You don’t think I can ride the tiger?” she asks, amused. “Maybe I like getting eaten.” Wait a minute, is she coming on to Bobby?
The commentary about Nightmare seems to give her pause. She seems contemplative – even distracted – while Bobby pulls out a pineapple and tells the other Crimson Crush to stick it up their hoops. The gangers grumble and posture but they’re sober too (much to their dismay) so they’re not as aggressive as they might be. Plus, they still seem deferential to the woman, who pats the table gently to get them to simmer down.
“Don’t you know the old expression about keeping your friends close, and your enemies closer? I, for one, would rather have Nightmare as an ally than as an enemy.” Her words are confident but there’s the slightest waver to her tone that suggests a flicker of doubt. And maybe – or did Bobby imagine it? – she says “he’s further away that way” under her breath.
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“I’m not good with words. Nothing I can say, can convince anyone. But you are smart. You’ll figure out where it leads when Nighmare has your boys used to work with him and the only smart one around is you. I sold a piece of my soul today to get that insight. Consider it a gift.”
With that, Bobby left the place, going to look for his fellow detectives.
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Bobby leaves the woman in semi-stunned silence. A glance a few minutes later sees her sitting pensively at the craps table, not betting and not engaging with anyone around her. Finally, she relents to the continued protests of the gangers who are with her, and they get up and head toward one of the drug dens. But, still, she is seen thinking, not injecting drek into her eyeballs like the other three misfits are.
*****
AM’s revelation seems to have had a similar effect on Widow.
“And Iktomi doesn’t want this to go forward?” she asks, uncertainly. “After all… bugs hate fire.” She seems to be sidestepping the fact that spiders hate fire too.
“Very well,” she says at last. “The previous Widow – before she died and I took the title – was a Spider shaman, much like yourself. To honor her memory, we will do as Iktomi instructs. We’ll remove ourselves and will encourage others to do the same. But, I will note that our social influence is not great. The others object to our recruitment methods. They call it ‘kidnapping’ and ‘brainwashing’. Removing us may make them feel more at-ease to stay, not less. You should continue your efforts among the others.”
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It is difficult to really explain perhaps even to a Spyder that Iktomi does not ask his followers to do his bidding. The Destroyer is perhaps the least understood of the great spirits. On the surface, it is a malicious spirit that tricks, deceives, and brings disasters to people. That shallow view of Iktomi caused AM a lot of problems with would be Sioux. Yet, Iktomi is also Ksa the spirit of wisdom, and the patron of innovation. The wolves hunt the buffalo, but the existence of wolves makes the buffalo healthy and strong. Iktomi’s disasters make humanity strong, and necessity is the mother of all inventions.
Iktomi does not want people to do his will, he wants them to survive it. Therefore, it is very likely that Iktomi approves of Nightmare – and it is equally likely that he also wants humanity to overcome his punishment. AM really has no idea what part Nightmare plays in Iktomi’s grand plan. However, the Destroyer teaches people to lie, deceive, and do whatever they need to survive and prosper. Therefore, he’ll have no problem with AM mentioning his will as a reason to do something. If any, such manipulation makes her closer to her patron spirit. “Praise Iktomi” she says concluding the deal.
… (when Widow mentions her little social influence)
“Well, the Spider is shifty – you can also provoke a violent response and get other factions expelled. If you have followers that are willing to miss out on a great party that is.”
She then comments on the recruitment methods.
“Not everyone needs to be brainwashed. I thank you for your position, and I will continue working on isolating Nightmare to make him easy to strike. In the meanwhile, feel free to contact me if you can use my talents at technology or magic. To the very least I owe you a favor for doing the right thing today.”
AM hands Widow her business card and then exits the room seeking to recoup with her friends. >> Spyders are out, I am fine. Any progress on your end?
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Jawsey feels a jolt of guilt, that AM has already dealt with one gang and most of what he has accomplished is to fill his stomach and get drugs. <<Not yet, people are in too good a mood mostly to be easily messed with. I’m headed to the room where the Rusty Stiletos are burning their brains and irradiating the furniture. I’ll see if I can reach them at all, but I hear they are a pretty tough crowd.>>
He closed off the message, took a deep breath, then headed into the Stiletos chosen room, and scanned around for a leader, or at least someone who looked like they were together enough to handle conversation.
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Bobby replied <<Just had a conversation with the leader of the Crush. I might have given her some doubts about working with the Halloweeners. And I definitely gave her an apple.>>
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Widow doesn’t literally shrug, but AM can imagine that she does.
“Spider has His webs, and we have ours,” she says. “The fly does not wish to be caught, but when it is… it is elevated. It becomes something greater than itself: it becomes Spider. And so we, too, catch our flies, creating meaning and purpose in lives where there was none.” Such is their defense of kidnapping and brainwashing.
*****
Jawsey finds the BTL den. Sprawled out over couches and the floor are orks and trolls in red jackets, all with the most hideous mutations. Many of them are missing large patches of skin, or have skin covering their body in strands like rolled putty. Bumps, nodules, and tumors grow on every surface. Some seem to be missing noses, or eyelids, or cheeks, or other soft tissues. They are a frightening sight, even when they’re almost all unconscious due to BTLs. Jawsey does see one massive troll who is sitting imperiously in a recliner as if it were a throne. The troll’s eyes track Jawsey, so he knows that the troll is conscious. His aura is a mangled mess: a trainwreck of cyber and mutated meat, but, oh, what emotions! Despite his calm facade, he is feeling powerful, omnipotent even. His heart is singing of victory and his blood is thrilling with glory. He’s either on a powerful moodchip or a personafix chip, with the RAS override feature disabled so he can take in his surrounding environment.
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Even as an individualist specialist, I have to agree. I feel that most of your flies are better off doing something positive in their life instead of being lost to pursue idle goals.” Agreeing with the Widow was not such a bad tactic to play, and most people were useless anyhow, without the courage to really do something with their life.
She ordered her thoughts, and looked for a new opertunity, and some matrix games.
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AM finds every sort of Matrix game readily available. Sony, one of the industry leaders, is well represented: AR games, VR games, shoot-’em-ups, sports sims, puzzle games, you name it. Their business model is simple: get as many players as possible and give them incentives to keep spending. It’s the rare Sony game that doesn’t give you multiple options to drop a few nuyen to give you an edge, even if it’s a slight one, over the competition. They have an appealing package of Desert War games that tie into some of the recent spin-offs: DW: Mohave, DW: Gobi, and Rad Wars (set in the SOX). AM can get all of these – plus all DLCs, plus all unlockables – for one coin.
On the other end of the spectrum, there’s Dessert Wars, a fun little game tied into Ares’ playful show about competitive cooking. It’s an AR game that combines competitive cooking with cooking lessons. And it even features Aunt Sally, who came out of retirement to be a celebrity judge on the show! For one coin, you not only get a copy of the game but also a personalized video message from Aunt Sally about how to gut an incubus.
There are other options too, like Red Samurai Run (from Renraku), a very fun VR game but very controversial trid series about “the Arcology Incident”. The game’s a blast but the spin-off show was widely panned for trying to paint Renraku in a more positive light. As part of the spin from the fallout around the show, all game proceeds are being donated to charity, and rumor has it that several people in Renraku Media were “terminated” (precise definition of termination unknown) because of the insensitive nature of the show.
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Jawsey groans internally, but only half-heartedly: he’d known that the Rusty Stilettos would be rough to deal with. He hadn’t anticipated how much their physical deformities would trigger his childhood sensitivities about his then damaged face and body.
He pastes on his best confident smile and puts some swagger in his walk as he approaches the troll. When he gets close he gives a nod, not quite a bow, and offers the bottle of whiskey that he has still be carrying around. He tries to sound jovial and maybe a bit tipsy and definitely not threatening as he adds “Here my friend, you look like someone who could appreciate a good drink. I say ‘friend’ because Urubia wants us all to be friends here, right?”
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With an unnaturally deep voice, the Rusted Stilleto says, “THE GREAT KHAN WILL HEAR YOUR SUPPLICATION.”
He stands. “A TRADER FROM THE WEST? IT IS RIGHT AND PROPER THAT HE BRINGS GIFTS.” He extends one hand for Jawsey’s bottle. Jawsey hands it over, the Great Khan drinks deeply, then hands it back. Jawsey isn’t sure what to do with it now.
“YOU ARE ALLOWED TO SHOW YOUR PLEASURE,” the Great Khan says, extending his hand palm-down, presumably so that Jawsey may kiss his ring. Either he lives life with a garish ring on his finger or there’s jewelry for sale at the Funhouse too. (There probably is. The bazaar is full of lots of various goods.)
Jawsey is doubtful. Is this guy really the leader, or in any position of authority, or is it just the BTL speaking? And, if he agrees to something, will he actually remember it (or follow through with it) once the BTL trip has worn off?
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Ah… choice fatigue, AM shrugs. Observing all the abundance but unable to make a choice, the rest knew how to balance between fun and actions, and here she is with videogames that can end her night. The temptation is big, but she cannot commit such a long time right now. She wants to have fun, but that web of conflicting Jhonsons pressures her more than usual. She watches an Apple she took from Bobby earlier and bites it. Why things have to be so difficult. She settles and watch the rest playing trying to clear her thoughts, and perhaps look for opportunities. The scene is too chaotic too out of control, how can they succeed in such a place?
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Somewhat embolded by this seeming success, Bobby ventured over to the bar where he had seen the Halloweeners getting drunk. His fruitbasked now only contained a few apples and some exotic stuff that he had never seen or heard of.
Sitting down as if he belonged among them, he looked for the highest ranking member and tossed him or her an apple:
“A compliment from the Crimson Crush. I heard, you guys finally are going corporate. What’s the new name going to be like? Crimson Weeners?” -
Bobby finds himself in the middle of half-a-dozen Halloweeners who have a circus/clown theme going. He throws an apple to Carn-evil, the “Rager” (lieutenant) who is in charge of this squad. Carn-evil looks like a demonic clown. Is it a he or a she? Hard to say with all that makeup.
They’re tipsy but not drunk yet.
“You picking a fight?” Carn-evil asks. “We don’t fights; we end them.”
He/she/it mimics throwing their liquor bottle at Bobby, and having it explode into flame. The other clowns circle around Bobby, pressing in from all sides. Not aggressively, per se, but not exactly friendly-like either. For a moment Bobby wonders if they intend to escort him outside simply by moving him along, stuck in the middle of their pack and propelled by their body weight.
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