CB's Grim Frequencies IC -- COMPLETE

[Forged Fury]

Cyril tried to get out of Death Otter's way as she clambered over, but failed spectacularly... only managing to get the corner of the laptop smashed into his crotch for his efforts. Eyes wide and mouth open in a silent mewl of pain, the man breathed like he was having contractions for a few seconds before muttering in a strained voice, "I'm going inside."

Regaining control of himself, the former lawyer entered the store and headed for the restroom. He already had to relieve himself, but now he needed to check to make sure he wasn't bleeding internally. The bathroom was typical, nasty even though the signs promise that they would be the cleanest restrooms this side of the Mississippi. Cyril casually inspected the logsheet that was supposed to record the comings and goings of the attendant and chuckled when he noticed the date clearly being changed with a pencil while the rest of the log wasn't touched. "My kind of dedication..." Taking care of business, he was pleased to see no evidence of anything ruptured down there and washed his hands. He grabbed several extra hand towels and tucked them in his pocket.

Still smarting, he headed to the drink stand. Filling the largest cup about halfway up with ice, Cyril pulled out the paper towels and, attempting to shield himself from view, dropped two ice cubes into the paper. Folding the paper around the ice, he slipped it down the front of his pants for much needed relief, working the package into the little pouch in his briefs that no men used ever. Filling the cup with Diet Coke, the former lawyer made his way to the counter to check out.

Pulling out the little bit of left over cash he had from the toy fiasco, he asked, "How's it going, buddy?"

 

[CanadienneBacon]

OOC: OMG. Kudos to you for making me tear up with peals of laughter while in my office. There is no way in nine hells I can explain to my colleagues why I'm over here dying of laughter.

 

[Shayuri]

Behind Cyrill as he stands in line for the counter, he hears Death Otter say, "Hey. Hey Cyrill. Cyrill. What's round and flat, but it's okay cuz you have a spare?" The giant grin she must be wearing is audible in her voice.

"Or no...okay, I'm bald and bruised and seldom used, my twin and me were safe as could be, until he was crushed by someone's knee! What am I?"

A finger poked at his back. "Cyrill. Cyrill can you guess? Should I tell you? Cyrill?"

[sblock]Is it wrong I'm starting to ship these two?

Also, yes, I'm spelling his name wrong. She says it wrong. Not 'SEE-ril,' like I assume he says it, but 'see-RILL.' Tacking on the extra 'l' is something I hope visually simulates the constant nagging irritation of that. [/sblock]

 

[CanadienneBacon]

OOC: No. But I think you'll need to explain to FF what "ship" means. Cause I'm pretty sure he doesn't read fanfiction.

 

[Shayuri]

(OOC - lol, making him google it is half the fun. I like to imagine his face slowly twisting into a rictus of horror, before he scrambles for the 'off' switch on his computer, and soaks the entire tower in a soapy water solution before daring turn it on again. )

[sblock=For the Faint of Heart]'Shipping' is when fans of a given media production such as a book, movie, TV show or other similar thing, get it into their heads that a particular romantic pairing either is happening, is going to happen, or (more often) SHOULD happen. Shippers (as those who ship are referred to) will typically steadfastly believe their 'ship' will happen, or is happening, even in defiance of all available evidence. The term 'ship' is just a shortened form of 'relationship.' Corollary phrases like 'the ship is sailing' or 'the ship is sinking' have been coined to refer to circumstances that support or refute the existence of a relationship between the characters in question.

It's all pretty hilarious. [/sblock]

 

[Forged Fury]

OOC: I actually know what shipping means. I read reddit for laughs every now and again and, with the advent of decent comic-based TV shows on the WB, the inevitability of learning what 'shipping' meant was guaranteed. I always pronounced Cyril as "SEAR-uhl" but I'm from the South, so no promises of accuracy or care.

Cyril grimaced, trying to do his best to ignore the prodding finger and giving his best hang-dog look to the fat guy behind the counter. Even in their short acquaintance, he knew that Otter took to causing annoyance like a dog took to a bone. If only he could get the fat guy to intervene...

"Hey buddy, you want to help the little lady out with her question?"

OOC: OK, I'm going to have Cyril subconsciously use his Attraction power to have the store clerk become infatuated with Otter. He's going to take a shot at a Concentration check to manifest without display. Even if it fails, he's going with the option of the low volume display. At worst, it'll be a kind of freaky disembodied deep voices hum that lasts for a second. Cyril will react by checking his cellphone to see if he has the ringer set to some weird tone. Concentration Check = [roll0] Clerk resists with a Will Save (DC 15)

 

[gribble]

T-dawg wordlessly shakes his head at the display of "food" in the store, and again when Cyril and D0 get out to buy some. Then he settles down in the passenger seat, folding his arms behind his head, to wait for the stop to be done with.

OOC: Concentration Check = 7 Action point, action point, action point!

 

[Forged Fury]

OOC: Sadly, the DC is 16, assuming the D20 SRD is accurate. Best I could do would be 13, I think. Having (even more) weird happening works well, I think

 

[CanadienneBacon]

OOC: This is the first time anyone has attempted to use a psionic power in this game, and it's also the first time I've been called upon to adjudicate psionics as either GM or player. Bear with me. Cyril wishes to manifest attraction to Otter in the fat store clerk. To do so, Cyril must pay a power point cost of 1 power point. Cyril is a 2nd-level telepath, so if the clerk fails his Will save, the power would have a duration of 2 hours. The saving throw is Will DC 15 because attraction is a 1st-level psionic power that relies on Charisma as its key ability score modifier; Cyril has Charisma 18, so the DC for the Will save is 15. And, finally, an action point expenditure here to meet the Concentration DC 16 check to avoid the display when the power manifests would be moot because, at best, Cyril would gain 6 points to add to his piss poor roll of 7, and that is not enough to beat the DC 16 required. The entry for attraction states that the display is auditory. I think, however, that, as in all things, the GM has the option of describing the display, yes? I note that the hardcover really does not delve hardly at all into displays, while the d20 SRD section on displays gives good detail. Unless you have a strenuous reasonable objection why we can't fiddle with different types of displays, I prefer to retain control over displays. I think flexibility in how displays manifest will let me be creative with how to incorporate plot elements throughout the story. I can use them to weave story and plot arcs into the action. Sometimes, however, it's nice to have a pro-active player who goes out of his way to describe the effects of his character's powers. How 'bout you continue giving a general gist of the type of display that should manifest, along with a description of whether and/or how Cyril attempts to control the display, and I will fill in additional detail on an as-needed basis? There will be times when we'll roll with your description, and other times when for one reason or another I'll want to add additional or different layers to the effect described for the purpose of custom crafting the storyline.

Cyril adopted a pleading look to the set of his face and eyed the fat store clerk. The clerk wore a bright blue polyester short sleeve button-down collared shirt that had "Speedway" embroidered in yellow on one side and on the other side bore a nametag that read "Jon." Jon looked up at Cyril and said, "Man?" His monosyllable was slow, and confused sounding. Just then, the overhead fluorescent light popped and momentarily went dark, reminding both Cyril and Otter of the crazed on-again off-again lighting back at FCI Terre Haute. A low bass hum thrummed through the store when the light flickered back to life. Jon, however, appeared not to notice the flickering fluorescent light in the slightest; he was fixated on Otter's slim form.

Jon put a hand to the top of his trousers beneath the counter height and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. It was obvious to Cyril he was adjusting himself. Jon stared at Otter, the corner of his mouth curling into a quirk. Cyril paid, took his change, then stepped aside for Otter to pay. Jon waived away Otter's cash. "No, man. I got this." He smiled sleepily at Otter, then adjusted himself a second time after putting Cyril's cash beneath the cash drawer. The whole time, Jon's eyes never left Otter.

Cyril felt the hairs raise on the back of his neck. He craned his head to the left, and realized an old man was standing behind him. The old dude was bent nearly in half with age and standing by the soda fountain. Despite an obvious case of arthritic scoliosis, the old man carried no cane. Nor did he have a walker. He shuffled closer to Cyril, moving with alacrity, and grabbed hold of the former laywer's shirt sleeve. Forcing Cyril to bend a little so his ear was level with the old man's mouth, the man whispered, "Get out while you can. Greenfield's become a tainted, evil place. No Indian, let alone a Delaware, need be set upon." The old man let go of Cyril's sleeve and looked pointedly up at the fluorescent light, which by now had ceased sputtering. The musak playing in the background on the store's speakers came back to life, and Katy Perry picked up where the dull bass thrum left off.

Jon shook of his daze. He yanked his eyes over to the stooped old man. "Go on, Lenni, get outta here. You're scaring the customers again." Lenni frowned at Jon but said nothing. Instead, he eyeballed Otter. "You look plenty smart, girl. Heed an old Injun, and leave town." With that, the old man shuffled off. He made for the door and left, leaving the door chimes to tinkle in his absence.

Outside, T-dawg and Feral waited in the vehicle. J.R. finished gassing the van, looked at the convenience store, muttered something unintelligible, then got back in and sat down in the driver's seat. He shut the door and cranked the engine.

 

[Forged Fury]

OOC: Totally fine on the display thing. Personally, I was hoping to make Cyril's visual display to be glints on his eyes and teeth, like in a ridiculous movie.

Why does all the weird stuff happen to me? Cyril whined in his inner monologue. Brushing his sleeve of imagined dirt, the former lawyer watched the old Native American depart. Shaking his head at the weirdness, he headed back to the van and hoped in, weaving his way to the very back seat to avoid any future incidents.