This picks up the game for Kurt Wright from New Players Coasting In.
Aware that the ground has closed around you, you struggle for air, struggle against the pressure. With every move your body is buffeted by chunks of rock or lava. Thank whoever you thank, the rocks are not that hard and the lava not so hot, although some are harder than others. Some light is coming through now, and you can see the large bricks, rectangular boxes rounded on the edges and corners, pressing in on you.
--M. J. Young
Wha...what the hell is happening?-thoughts to myself at the moment.
I'll examine how this is physically possible for the time being, confused.
For flexibility, I'm not able to touch my toes easily (it does take some effort on my part, and when I try to that 'bouncing' occurs). I am able to walk on my knees (not kneeling-I'm actually saying that I can walk with the tips of my knees as feet). Overall, I wouldn't say that I'm very flexible, though.
With your realization that this is physically impossible comes the parallel realization that you are dreaming. Oh, you are buried in something, and it has the form of relatively large (bigger than a bread box, although if you remember bread boxes you're older than I am) rectangular prisms. As you focus on them, you realize that they are suitcases. You are in a pile of luggage, more coming in on a conveyer belt and falling on the pile.
Your backpack is on your back. Did you take anything from the tropical island that might not be listed on your sheet?
Someone in coveralls spots you, and in a New York accent shouts, "Hey! You! What are you doing there?"
--M. J. Young
Nope, I didn't take anything else (unless DiVars gave me something right before I left *fingers crossed*).
"Having the weirdest week in my life..." I mumble. Then, I'll say out loud to the individual (you didn't specify gender), "I'm just getting my luggage." I'll grab a suitcase near me and attempt to have a look of genuine happiness at 'finding my bag'. (Yes, I did just steal a bag from wherever I am.)
What are my surroundings like?
"Whoa, whoa, wait! These are outgoing bags. You'll need to get over to luggage pickup. What are you doing back here, anyway?"
You're in a cavernous room with many conveyers, suitcases and trunks of every description, all with paper tags on them each sporting three letters in bright colors. There are also vehicles something like tourist trams, a small engine pulling a string of cars, these loaded with suitcases, and there are bay doors to one side.
Best bet, you're in the luggage control area of an airport.
--M. J. Young
"And I came in here because there's something precious of mine in this bag. I can't stand to ship it away any longer."
I look around the area, attempting to look confused. "I'm sorry, but it seems that I've lost my way. This place is so complicated-I'm not sure how you keep track of where all the entrances and exits are. Would you mind showing me the way out?"
I'll keep the stolen bag in my hand as I approach the man while asking him about the way out.
The man pulls a walkie-talkie off his belt while you're climbing out of the piled luggage.
"Stand right there, please," he says to you, then into the walkie.
"This is Joe Bishop. I need security in Pan Am outgoing baggage handling; we've got a civilian, probably lost but definitely confused."
Copy that, Joe.
--M. J. Young
While I'm climbing out of the area, I'll attempt to take off any sort of item-reading sticker or device from the bag that I'm stealing.
Once I'm up, if I'm still in the clear, I'll wait for the individual that the man's calling to arrive.
There is a plastic tag on the sticker with the bright bold letters LAX, a long code number, and the Pan American logo. Do you mean that you intend to tear off this tag?
It only takes a minute for a man to arrive who has that look of security about him--white shirt with dark epaulets and an insignia on the sleeve, dark pants with a bright stripe down the outseam, a headset radio, and a holstered pistol.
"What's the problem here?" he asks, looking back and forth between the luggage handler and you.
"This man," the handler begins, "doesn't belong back here. He claims he came here to take his luggage, which he says he does not want to put on the plane."
The security man nods and looks at you as if expecting you to tell your side of it.
--M. J. Young
Yes, I intended to tear it off.
If I succeeded in tearing it off, I'll present it to the security man. "Well, I came back here because this place's baggage dealers didn't put a tag on my luggage. I find that unreasonable, and I don't want it to get stolen once the plane lands. I want to see a manager, now!"
He nods, and takes the bag from you.
"You'll have to come with me; we'll get this sorted out. Passengers are not permitted in the luggage area. What did you do--leap on the conveyor belt?"
Assuming you cooperate, he will walk you out of that area through a locked door into what appears to be an airport terminal, and down a hall to a side corridor and into a block of windowed offices. He asks you to sit in a padded metal chair in a room, and he sets the suitcase on the desk.
"It appears to be locked," he says. "You'll have to open it so we can confirm that it's yours. Key?"
--M. J. Young
My cat is still with me, right?
I try to look angry when he asks me to confirm the suitcase is mine. "Well the key is inside of the suitcase, and I don't permit you to open my luggage forcibly. Now, are you going to let me see a manager or aren't you?"
"Certainly, sir," he says, and presses a button. Two uniformed men enter.
"Detain this man, check him for weapons, and call the bomb squad."
"Yes, sir. Sir, I'm afraid you will have to come with us."
One of them draws a pistol and holds it, not aimed at you but ready to use. The other brings out a pair of handcuffs.
"Hands behind your back, please. First, remove that pack from your back.
Since you never stated you were picking up the cat, I must assume that you were separated when you passed through the door out of the luggage area. If you relax, you can sense where he is.
--M. J. Young
I drop to the ground on my knees, remove my backpack, and put my hands on the back of my head.
"I was just checking things out, got a bad idea, and went down the luggage chute. It was really poor decision making on my part. To not get in trouble, I thought I'd attempt to claim one of the bags was mine, giving me a reason for it. It's not even my bag." I confess immediatley and quickly to them. I don't bother trying to relax in this situation.
The original security man grunts. The put the cuffs on you behind your back and take you to another room which has the appearance of a holding cell for one person. It is not entirely uncomfortable, but there's not much to do. They do remove your handcuffs.
You are kept there for about twenty minutes, and then taken to another office where a heavy-set guard in what is clearly an officer's uniform apparently needs to fill out all the paperwork.
"Name," he begins.
After you answer that, he will ask for your address, and whether you have any ID. He will ask why you were at the airport (e.g., departing on a flight or arriving on a flight or meeting someone). He will then ask you to tell him what happened, how you wound up in the luggage area, and why you were claiming Mrs. Eloise Smith's luggage was yours. You may feel free to answer as much of this as you like, although if you derail the interrogation, I'll move in the direction you take, to some degree.
--M. J. Young
I'll tell him that I don't remember anything before being in the luggage area, and I'll reveal to him that I don't have any identification on me and have no idea where I live at the moment.
So...in fewer words...I pretend to have amnesia.
Oh, and an update in my 'fighting style' sort of thing... Note that I have had no training or anything, and haven't fought for a long time (since a while before joining this game); thus, I haven't learned anything involving fighting over this time. I thought I'd point out that I just sparred with someone who takes taikwando and has for a while. I managed to slap all assaults out of the way effortlessly and ended up just flipping my opponent with their legs, and they fell onto their back. That's when they conceded. Now, what does this do to my fighting ability in game? If it doesn't make any difference, I understand, as this realization came after I'd already joined the game; however, I believe that the skill was there since before joining the game.
Thank you,
K
Indeed, your updated evaluation of your abilities is certainly appropriate, particularly at this early stage of the game. I'm raising the Skill Ability Level (SAL) of your fighting style to 1@10.
As an aside, this is part of the sense of the On the Fly Character Creation process: we assume that you've overlooked skills along the way. Thus for example you might not have mentioned that you can swim, but you might actually have earned your Red Cross Lifesaving card or your Boy Scout Mile Swim, either of which would indicate very strong swimming abilities. I would give a person a 2@1 SAL for swimming if they had either credential, and higher if they worked as a life guard at some point. For less than that, I would certainly give them a high intensity amateur level skill if they swam every summer as long as they could remember but just hadn't thought of it as a skill. So yes, if you think of skills you actually do have and want them on the sheet, mention them.
"Well, all right. Let's go through your things and see if we can figure out who you are. You were wearing that backpack when they found you; do you remember picking it up, or can we guess that it was probably with you when you lost your memory? Also, you were patted down for weapons. Do you know that you're carrying a wallet? Let's see whose ID is in there."
--M. J. Young
I hand him the wallet, and allow him to search it for my ID.
Once he identifies me with my license (picture id and all), I tell him that last I remember, I had a cat and my backpack with me. I don't know where the cat is now.
He reads off your name and address from your license, and then says, "Well, Kurt, apparently this is you. Now what we need to figure out is how you wound up at JFK in New York."
(I'm assuming you don't live in or immediately near New York City.)
"We'll check passenger manifests to see whether there is a record of you arriving or a scheduled departure, and go from there."
When you mention the cat, he uses a standard radio to alert everyone to watch for a stray cat that belongs to one of the passengers.
He leaves the office and returns in a few minutes.
"Well, I don't know how you got here," he says, "but it appears that you have a first class ticket waiting for you at the British Airways desk. You're scheduled to fly to Paris this afternoon. Oh, and Maintenance has your cat. They're bringing him now."
--M. J. Young
"Do you know when the ticket was purchased?"
No, I don't live anywhere near New York and have never been there.
I think about Paris for a moment, and realize that I must have fairly high standings in this world if I've managed to score a first-class ticket to Paris. I'll gladly take the ticket and get on the plane. I won't check my backpack in, but will ask for a cat-carrier for Harry.
"They can probably tell you that at the counter. We'll get you an escort so you don't get lost again. Give them your name and they'll check you through."
There's a bit of a delay while they get the cat carrier, but it's all done courteously and smoothly. Fairly soon you are seated in the first class compartment of an intercontinental jumbo jet, with the stewardess asking you questions like whether you will want the steak or the fish, whether you would like a beverage before take-off, if you want to be awakened for dinner if you are asleep, whether you need pillow or blanket now. You can certainly, you are assured, ask for anything later, although they do need a count on who is eating which meal before they start preparing them.
--M. J. Young
Oh--the ticket was purchased through a travel agency in London.
--M. J. Young
I'll request steak and I'll ask if I can get any liquor on the airplane (the latter question will be in a joking attitude, unless she replies positively).
When was the ticket purchased?
The ticket was purchased three days ago.
Yes, you are welcome to have anything from the cart. They have champagne, the more popular cocktails, and a small but respectable selection of wines. The cart will come by in a few minutes.
As she moves away, a black man comes up from somewhere behind you. He says, "Don't worry, Mr. Wright--I've got your back," and he pins an American flag to your T-shirt and then returns to his seat, about three rows back.
The beverage cart is coming as the stewardess is still moving away through the first class section.
It would help this scenario if you can give me the names of three friends from high school, and a quick sketch of who they are, what prominent abilities/skills they might have, and the like. They might be a recurring element in the adventure ahead. They should be friends with each other.
--M. J. Young
Jeff is funny and crazy, sort of like a second half of me back in highschool. We were close friends. He made off-the-wall comments and wasn't afraid of what people thought about him. Jeff has a past involving violence, so he knows how to fight (and well). His style as far as I can tell is fisticuffs. We've never been in any serious fights. He is white with blonde hair, and rather thin (but still has lean muscles). He's my age, oh and he's a natural rhetorician.
Skills: Natural Rhetorician, Self-Confidence, Fighting, Knife-handling, Stealth, High Endurance, High Will Power, Intelligence equal to mine.
Kim seems to pride herself on being different. She's quiet, but everyone knows she's thinking something deep all the time. She is wiccan, and her beliefs in that are very strong. Kim grew up in a bad part of Detroit, and has had to fight with a bad past as well. She knows how to fight as well as Jeff. Sometimes they go at it, but blood's only every been drawn once, and by accident. She's my age and has a lot of experience in more ways than one.
Skills: Seduction, Fighting, High Will Power, Fair Animal Magnetism, Stealth, Sketching.
Nick is a friend of mine I met through other friends; however, he's one of the best. He doesn't compete athletically at all, nor academically. Still, he has a good head on his shoulders. He wants to be a director in the future, the next Tim Burton or Quinton Terrentino (spelling horrible, I know). He also has a serious interest in trapeeze, but is yet to pursue it. He's generally quiet unless the topic is something that he feels strongly about. Somehow (this is a fact that I still don't fully understand), this scrawny guy is going out with an absolute babe and has happily been for over a year. He's a year younger than I am.
Skills: Analytical, Creative, High Will Power, ...Yeah, that's about all I know involving skills for Nick. Due to the fact that I haven't seen him compete in anything, I don't know many of his skills.
These three have all been friends at some point. I imagine that upon getting into college, Kim and Jeff might have spread away from Nick some. Nick and Kim used to almost have a thing. Jeff and Kim are currently togeather and very happily so. If it's needed, the absolute babe that Nick's dating is named Sarah, and I know her as well.
You can add or remove any skills you want. I'll ask the stewardess to bring me a champagne that she'd suggest, as long as it's not too potent.
All right, it will be the four of them--Jeff with Kim, Nick with Sarah.
At some point on the multi-hour flight you head for the bathroom, and although it doesn't require you to pass through the economy class section, it is near there--and as it happens, someone calls your name.
"Kurt! Hey, Kurt!"
Nick walks up to you.
"I'm sorry, sir," the stewardess interrupts. "These are the first class facilities; you'll have to use the facilities in the rear."
"I'm not trying to use the facilities," Nick says. "I just saw a good friend I didn't know was on this flight. So, man, what are you doing? I thought you couldn't be with us?"
--M. J. Young
"Plans have a way of changing I suppose."
I laugh some, and scratch the back of my head.
Then, I proceed with a simple, "So, then, what's on the agenda once we land?"
"Oh--um--well, we--the four of us--bought this tour package. Economy thing, sort of--we have an itinerary and a packet of information about sites and stuff, and our hotel accommodations are covered, and we have discount coupons for a few restaurants and some of the attractions, and a rental car. We start in Paris, of course, and the car is waiting for us at the airport. The rest of the stuff is in my luggage. I can ask whether anyone brought the itinerary in their carry-on?
"Sorry, man, we didn't think you could come, so we just made arrangements for four."
--M. J. Young
I attempt to sound confident in this next statement, as if I'm somewhat high-class. "Well, I'm sure that we can work something out when we land. Don't worry about it, Nick."
Then, I'll take a moment and put my hand to my chin, "I don't remember why I told you I couldn't make it. Do you?"
"Oh--something about visiting relatives you hadn't seen in forever, back where your folks use to live. You weren't real specific. So, how did you wind up here anyway?"
You are welcome to continue the conversation, to walk back and converse with the other three if you like, or to return to your seat. I expect that at some point you will eat and at some point you will sleep, but I'm fine with getting there slowly and have nothing "eventful" anticipated for the remainder of the flight.
--M. J. Young
"I suppose that things just work out like this sometimes. Don't wory about it." I pat him on the shoulder, and get up to walk back there with him and to talk with my friends.
I intend to use this time to 'get to know them' as well as 'get to know me.'
How do they act towards me?
Do they tell any stories that 'I' have been involved in?
How do they act towards one another? Is there any tension?
Are there any friends back there talking to them that I don't recognize?
It is just the four of them, and other than that their couple relationships seem to have grown considerably more "serious" they are as you remember them. They also seem to think that you are yourself, and nothing they say suggests otherwise.
They are all surprised but not unhappy to see you, and ask the same questions (what happened to your trip to visit family, and why didn't you tell us sooner that you would be flying to Paris when we were).
The flight to Paris takes many hours; dinner will be served probably three hours along, and some passengers are already sleeping.
--M. J. Young
I'll simply answer with "I thought it would be a pleasant suprise to see me on the plane."
On the trip, I'll also address other aspects...
I intend to ask Nick specifically "How's work?" and the rest of the group as a side-comment. I'm interested in seeing how they may differ from my memories.
Do I know what day it is?
I'm ready to land whenever you are.
I don't think you've actually checked the date. However, it would be printed on your ticket, and you still have the copy (which incidentally is one-way). It is Monday, June 15, 2009.
And that means there's a significant gap in your memories, from one perspective: you've had no contact with any of these people for over a year.
You are fed, and I presume you get at least a nap, and now you asked to fasten your seat belt for landing in Paris, France.
--M. J. Young
I'll go back to my seat and will cooperate with the landing.
The only thing that I'll request is leaving the plane with my friends. I'll follow their leads when it comes to airport etiquite, including getting my cat once we get off the plane.
If I must, I'll ask them were I need to go to pick up Harry.
You disembark and approach customs. Suddenly a couple in their late twenties or early thirties spots you.
"There he is," the man says. "Mr. Wright! If you will come this way, please, we will get you through customs quickly."
They are already flanking you and trying to escort you toward a side door.
In a softer voice, he continues, "We realize that you may have, shall we say, equipment that might raise questions in customs. We've arranged for you to have diplomatic treatment here; your luggage is being retrieved as we speak, including the cat, and will be delivered to you at your briefing. I'm John Bright, this is Mary Scott; we've been assigned to head your support team. I'm sure you have questions; we will address them when we reach the briefing."
--M. J. Young
I nod to the two, still unsure of what's going on.
I'll ignore my ignorance for now, and I'll go with them confidently to wherever the two take me.
You bypass customs, and are ensconced in a limosine. You get a glimpse of your luggage, including Harry, being placed in a second vehicle. The dark glass makes it difficult to see much of the city beyond.
The girl picks up the thread.
"Welcome to Paris, Mr. Wright--or would you rather we call you Kurt?"
"I'm not certain how much your people told you, so I will assume you don't know anything. In the past three months, someone has assassinated the top finance ministers in several EEC countries--England, France, and Germany. We have reason to believe that the assassin's next target will be Augustus Steranko, Finance Minister of the European Economic Community itself, the continent's most powerful financial leader.
"We had a man working on it, one of our top agents known by the code name 'Blade'. He has disappeared and is assumed dead; however, we know that he had gotten close to Steranko's organization and believe that he was near to identifying the killer.
"We asked the CIA to lend us one of their deep cover operatives because we have reason to believe there may be a leak somewhere in our operation, which resulted in the death of Blade. You would be unknown to anyone in Europe, and thus will have advantages even if someone learns that we brought in an outside agent for the job."
The car comes to a stop, and the doors are opened from the outside.
"We'll get you equipped," she says. "Any questions so far?"
--M. J. Young
"Yes, where do I go from here after being equipped? Also, will I be able to bring my cat?"
I'll let them 'equip' me with whatever they want to.
"You look younger than we anticipated; we'll have to make some adjustments.
"These are your X-ray glasses. They see through most outer coverings, paper, cloth, thin walls. They do not see through lead, and tend to look through only the first layer of anything.
"Here is the latest in high-tech climbing gear: gecko boots. The soles use the weak molecular bonding force to bind to any surface; as you shift your feet you can connect and disconnect them, and thus can literally walk on walls.
"In the trunk of your car you will find complete SCUBA gear and wet suit, and a formal tuxedo with standard BO Blasters. There is also a hundred thousand francs to cover expenses; if you need more, contact us. There is a phone in the car.
"The car also is fully equipped--GPS, missile launchers, rear deflector shield, heavy machine guns, ejector seat, and auto-disable system."
The car is definitely a souped-up sports car, two-seater style, low to the ground.
"As to where to start, we won't tell you how to do your job; but Secretary Steranko is known to be gambling in on the Riviera, and given that we don't know who Blade was tracking your best bet may be to start from there. Steranko's mansion is in Austria, if you'd rather begin there; although we are not certain what happened to Blade, he was thought to be in Austria before he disappeared."
They give you specific locations of both the casino hotel Steranko frequents and the mansion in which he now lives.
--M. J. Young