Yttermayn's Infractus Experiment IC

[Leif]

Dr. Billy Saturn

One of the few things that Billy felt the SM had done right was to upgrade the station's equipment in the sound proofed room Billy worked in. Two computers with soft touch keyboards and mice to minimize ambient noise and a high quality mike were a couple of the improvements. Billy smirked at the keyboard covers, probably added due to the frequent appearance of beverages in the studio since Billy started here.
One computer had a soundboard program loaded on it, along with disc and digital media controls for music and other audio related functions. The audio output of both machines could be mixed in with everything else put out on the air. The other computer was set up to provide rapid access to incoming news and information. Billy saw relevant local headlines with photos, along with a few items with a national or global scope. He also saw the various ads he was supposed to run during the course of his broadcast. Lastly, the ever present timer was given some dedicated desktop space. It dictated hard and soft breaks in the broadcast like a little digital tyrant. It was currently showing that Billy would be on air in two and a half minutes.

As is his usual practice, Billy studiously ignores all the high-tech gadgetry in the booth, and pulls out the 'old fashioned' lps [his manager's words] out of his backpack and hurriedly cues up several songs using the 'archaic' [quoth the SM] turntables. As prepared as he ever is, Billy grabs the mic, "Gooood mornin' all you little greasy rockers! Let's get this day started right with some Black Sabbath! You paranoid? Me, toooo...." With that, he starts Black Sabbath's classic "Paranoid." "Finished with my Woman 'cause she couldn't help me with my mind. People think I'm insane because I am frowning all the time. Can you help me? Pacify my brain...."

 

[Leif]

Dr. Billy Saturn

"Hey, Fellow Babies, got to cut in here to give your poor working stiffs headed out to the salt mines a piece of breaking news! Seems we've got a power line down at Second and Maple. Sparky and the boys are on their way to set things right, but for now your best bet is to avoid that whole area. Stay safe out there! Here's a tune by David Coverdale and the boys to put that smile back on your faces." With that, Billy spins "Slide It In" by Whitesnake.

"You talk to much! Never sayin' what's on your mind. It's written on your face, and in the words you hide behind..."*

*lyrics

 

[Leif]

Dr Billy Saturn, reprise...

As the song plays, Billy gets that funny ache in the back of his throat. You know, the one that he banishes by drowning it with vodka. Anyway, through the window to the booth, Billy motions to summon an intern. He meets the intern at the door with a $20 bill and says, "The usual, if you please and a pack of smokes, and the change," the 'usual' being a half gallon of whatever rotgut vodka is on sale for 5 bucks or less at the liquor store around the corner from the station, and Billy's usual brand of 'smokes' being Lucky Strike, although he's still anxiously awaiting his own 'lucky strike.'

 

[Yttermayn]

Phil could hear the sound of a radio playing from somewhere nearby, a car radio, maybe. Some DJ was blathering the usual banter- it always sounded the same to Phil. But then Black Sabbath came on and Phil was reminded of many years ago when he and Rhonda were first dating. Thoughts of her brought water to his eyes still. He tried to push aside the hurt and focus. The hunger gnawed at him and that massive quantity of peaches he had swiped last evening taunted him from within it's armored shell. Maybe the owner of the car had something. What he wouldn't give for one of those old army can openers that came in every pack of C-Rations.

 

[Voda Vosa]

Moved by his gurgling stomach, Philip approaches the car, and knocks the window. Behind the glass, he raises his can of peaches, and makes gesticulations as if he wanted to open it.

 

[Yttermayn]

The car's tinted window rolled down a crack with the whine of an electric motor. Phil could see a younger man, maybe in his early 20's looking back out at him. The kid smiled and glanced over at his friend on the drivers side, and made some kind of gesture Phil couldn't quite see past the edge of the window. During their brief exchange, the radio started playing "Carry On My Wayward Son" by Kansas, and Phil almost became lost in another nostalgic daydream. A moment later the passenger turned back and the bore of a very large caliber barrel cleared the edge of the window.
Phil had just enough time to swing his can of peaches up between him and the window before he heard the first shots. PUPH! PUPH! PUPH! Phil felt the impacts on the can and a stinging in his fingertips where they held the can on the attacker's side of it. Those fingers a felt wet and cold, and he caught a flash of red dripping from the far side of the can. Phil stumbled back a few steps before he regained his balance and his nervous system had just one simple decision to make: Fight, or Flight?

 

[Voda Vosa]

So those kids wanted to mess with a homeless guy, and ruined his lunch, perhaps the best food he would have had in months! He will not stand it. He had nothing to lose.
Philip draw his club from his poket, a sturdy stick he found last night, and clubbed the gun out of the man's hands! Philip will try to grab the gun now.

Disarm ranged weapon: 16 to hit. Hits even a pencil.

 

[Yttermayn]

Philip's stick smacked into the edge of the window, hard, right where the barrel of his weapon had been poking out. The young man's tempered, tinted source of cover suddenly shattered explosively into thousands of tiny, useless shards. Phil noticed the leading edge of the barrel had collapsed and folded over where his stick had hit it. "!" one of them screamed. Phil couldn't tell which one it was, because a moment later the driver laid rubber in a smoking track away from the angry homeless man. Phil could only watch as the vehicle sped away down between the other warehouses in the district before turning a corner. When Phil calmed enough to check the damage of his fingers, he was surprised to find they were all intact. The red liquid on them was the wrong shade for blood, and had a chemical odor. 'Paint', he thought. It made sense, they had paint ball guns and were out tagging buildings and apparently, homeless people. At least the can of peaches was alright.

OOC: The dude in the car had essentially 9/10 cover, and the paintball gun wouldn't even fit through the crack in the window, so the next best thing happened.

 

[Voda Vosa]

Phil frowned, understanding slowly drawing in his features. He shrugs. At least he had tough those farts a lesson. His now fashion peach can still closed, Philip wondered around for a suitable can opener.

 

[Yttermayn]

"Holy sheeeeut! I thought you was dead, Phil!" came a voice from a nearby alley. Phil spotted an acquaintance of his, Dogjaws, peering out at him from behind a tall stack of pallets. Dogjaws got his unfortunate nickname after his jaw was broken and was never properly set. He endured months of pain living on the streets while the mandible healed crooked, but he was a tough bastard and pulled through. It had all happened some time before Phil knew him, and he had never known the man by any other name.