The Kindness of Strangers

[Molly Quincannon] [[Wits + Investigation.]]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Molly Quincannon] [[No, dude. Seriously. Eidetic Memory + Curiosity should not equal this level of dim.]]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 5, 5, 6, 10 (Success x 2 at target 7) [WP]

[Molly Quincannon] [[Time/Corr/Entropy - where is this guy likely to be, and where can I trip over him in a setting that allows for a conversation? Coincidental so diff 5 -1 focus, -1 practiced so diff 3]]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 6, 8 (Success x 2 at target 3)

[Molly Quincannon] [[Again, as I would like many successes because dude, this ain't going down like Riveira. Diff up to 4, -1 time taken so diff 3 again.]]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 3, 7 (Success x 2 at target 3)

[Molly Quincannon] [[Again!]]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 3, 8 (Success x 2 at target 3)

[Molly Quincannon] [[Resonance mask - diff 5 -1 practiced -1 focus = diff 3]]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 3, 9 (Success x 2 at target 3)

[Molly Quincannon] [[One more time, as she wants this to go well (1 suxx for activation, 1 for duration, a couple more would be nice). Diff up to 4.]]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 6, 8 (Success x 2 at target 4)

[Molly Quincannon] [[Forces shield. Vulgar so diff 6, -1 focus, -1 practice so diff 4]]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 5, 6 (Success x 2 at target 4)

[Molly Quincannon] [[Again, for added successes. Diff up to 5, taking it down to 4 again with a point of Quint.]]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 6, 9 (Success x 2 at target 4)

[Molly Quincannon] [[And taking my Paradox lumps now, to get it out of the way...]]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 4, 5, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Molly Quincannon] [[Soak?]]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 1, 10 (Failure at target 6)

[Molly Quincannon] [[Mind partition. Coincidental, so diff 5, -1 focus, -1 practiced so diff 3]]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 4, 9 (Success x 2 at target 3)

[Molly Quincannon] [[Again, just in case. Diff up to 4.]]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 2, 4 (Success x 1 at target 4)

[The Hunted] The temperatures had warmed in Chicago since the previous week's dip into the negatives, and this afternoon the sidewalks in Lake View seemed a little more populated than they had been. It was just after lunchtime, and many people were back at work, but a few industrious stay-at-home parents were out taking their children to the park or the store, or jogging along with a leashed dog at their side. This wasn't the kind of neighborhood where people expected to see trouble. Families lived here. There was a church and a school right down the road, and a tiny strip-mall across the street with a Starbucks and a hand-made chocolate shop.

After days of unsuccessfully trying to track her intended target, one of her effects finally broke through the mask of fog that had greeted her every other time she'd attempted to pin-point the technocrat's location. It was only a matter of time, really. He was one man on the run, and he had to slip up and make a mistake at some point. Perhaps he'd been too tired to properly reinforce his ward. It didn't matter. Ultimately, Molly's internal compass guided her here. Let no one say that patience was never rewarded.

And when she arrived, she'd know exactly where she was, because standing there where her senses had pointed her was a small, well-kept brownstone. And next to it was a shop marked "Kookaburra Exotic Birds." Occasionally, the raucous call of what sounded like a large parrot could be heard, muffled, through the building's walls.

But it wasn't the shop that was drawing her forward. It was the house. Or, more specifically... the back yard. There'd been a glimpse - a vision - of a now-familiar man sitting crouched on a wooden swing, huddled up against the cold.

[Molly Quincannon] Someone out in a backyard in this weather... It didn't seem a particularly good thing. Understanding the risks is one thing, as is being careful, but she does feel genuinely bad for the guy. Which is why, despite disguise and shields and masking and everything else, she's also brought coffee and a Tupperware container full of pizza slices. If nothing else, it's a good ice-breaker.

Now all that remains is to find a way into that backyard without doing too much the breaking-and-entering thing. If she can find a way to do so where she can see him without him seeing her, at least at first, so much the better.

[[Correspondence - area layout to stake out potential routes to the backyard. Diff 5, -1 focus, -1 practiced so diff 3.]]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 5, 6 (Success x 2 at target 3)

[The Hunted] The backyard was fenced in, as many of these places were, with a high wooden fence that wasn't going to be easy to climb or see through. Any potential path would take Molly either past the side of the house and around to the gate, or through the house itself (a slightly more problematic alternative.) She could also walk around the block to come in from the back, which faced another road.
to Molly Quincannon

[Molly Quincannon] Well, there are more ways than the usual of remaining unseen as much as possible, and they are Useful and Good and Magely. Molly doesn't like them overmuch because she's the type who lives to be noticed, but she can in fact use them. So, after a quick pass-over with the sonic screwdriver, setting the frequency for that low background hum of humanity that encourages people not to notice her or what she's doing, she heads past the side of the house and to the gate with a confident sort of gait. Nothing helps a 'don't notice me' rote like looking like you have every right to be where you are.

[[Somebody Else's Problem! Diff 5 -1 focus -1 practiced so diff 3.]]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 7, 8 (Success x 2 at target 3)

[Molly Quincannon] [[And again, just because we want to stay unnoticed. Diff up to 4.]]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 1, 10 (Failure at target 4)

[Molly Quincannon] [[*grumble* Diff up to 5 now, and a WP spent.]]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 1, 9 (Success x 1 at target 5) [WP]

[The Hunted] [Awareness, for kicks, even though it's not going to work]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 6, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[The Hunted] Molly took an extra precaution before going in, and none of the small handful of potential witnesses even so much as glanced in her direction as she walked along the path that led around the side of the house. This path would lead her to one of two gates in the fence, which was closed and latched.

Behind the fence, inside the yard, there was a faint creak of cold chains as the man shifted on the swing.

[Molly Quincannon] For some, this might be a problem, suddenly encountering a latched wooden gate. However, Molly's a long veteran of poking around places she shouldn't be on the streets, and so. Out comes an expired credit card she keeps for just such occasions, and Molly sets to nudging the latch up so she can get in.

[[Dex + Streetwise]]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 4, 8, 8, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[The Hunted] [Dex+Stealth]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 2, 4, 5 (Failure at target 6)

[The Hunted] This wasn't a difficult latch to open, and unsurprisingly, after a bit of work, the latch clicked open and Molly would be able to open the gate.

Unfortunately, the slight rattle of the metal latch was enough to alert the man inside to her presence, and there was another, louder creak of wood and chains as his weight left the bench, along with the faint crunch of snow. When Molly opened the gate and looked into the yard, she'd see the wooden swing swaying gently back and forth, and the back of a man who was running for the back gate, evidently intent upon escape.

[Molly Quincannon] Well, shit. There's only one thing to do at moments like these, really.

"I brought you pizza!"

[The Hunted] It was a fair bet that out of all the possible things this man was expecting to hear called out to him right now... I brought you pizza was not one of them. The gate at the back of the fence was blocked by a snow-drift, and when he opened it the thing stuck in place a few inches out. There was a sharp exhalation of breath (frustration) as he began trying to simultaneously kick the snow away and wrench the gate further open.

Then Molly said she'd brought him pizza, and he paused... turning around to regard her warily. This man, he didn't look very good. He looked like someone who hadn't eaten much lately, or had a shower in a few days. There was about a week's work of dark facial hair on his chin and jaw. A knit hat was on his head, and he wore a thick black scarf and a layered winter coat (these things looked new - stolen maybe, or purchased with cash.) Beneath those layers, there wasn't much bulk to him. He'd probably been a slimmer body type even before all this had happened.

"Who are you? How did you know I was here?"

He looked confused, and verging on panic.

[Molly Quincannon] Molly ponders this. Names tend to be dangerous. "I'll tell you who I'm not; I'm not one of the four trying to kill you. Call me Maudlin, okay? Safer for everyone." (Because frankly, if the Technocracy doesn't know that the online entity known as Mad Maudlin is some kind of 'reality deviant', they really haven't got it on the ball. And there's no way to trace Molly to Maudlin, so that's alright. Plus it's something that means that the Horsemen can't find out she was here. She looks so different - brown eyes instead of hazel, slicked-back brown hair instead of scruffy black, no glasses, clothes that make her look respectable in place of her nerdcore look - there's no real link, not even resonance.)

"As to how I knew you were here," she goes on, holding up the cloth bag full of Tupperware and thermos, "let's just say that I have talents that these Horsemen either don't have in concert or never thought to use. But that part doesn't matter either. I just want to talk, that's all. I want to know the scores on the doors, nothing more. There are people in my city who want to hurt you. I want to know why. And not just from one side either."

Then she grins a bit. "Also ... I really did just want to bring you pizza. And coffee. It's really good coffee, too. A friend of mine got me gourmet stuff. I'm sharing. I'm nice that way. So ... could we talk, maybe? I didn't mean to scare you; I'm sorry about that. I just didn't have another way to ask for a confab."

[The Hunted] [Per+Subterfuge - is this real life?]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 4, 5, 5, 8, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[The Hunted] They'd had similar ideas, these two. At least, in some respects. This version of Bejamin Roberts looked only passingly similar to the one who'd been hiding out in Bronzeville not long ago. That Ben had been clean-shaven and well put together. If it hadn't been for the new clothes, this version might have bordered on homeless-looking.

He also didn't feel remarkable in any way, and any attempts to get a sense of his resonance would come up empty.

One of his hands had begun to reach into his pocket, but he paused now, watching Molly carefully. When she held up the bag, he jumped almost imperceptibly, muscles tense, but a moment later he calmed a little. There was a long stretch of silence as he seemed to debate the merits of food and possible assistance over being careful for its own sake. By all accounts Molly seemed to be telling him the truth, but that didn't mean she wasn't lying. It only meant that if she was, she was very good at it.

"You spoke to them, then? So you aren't one of mine."

He took a couple of tentative steps forward.

"You have to understand, I... I don't know who I can trust, right now. If you want to talk, we can talk, but I need an assurance. More than just your word." Now he closed the distance between them, still moving hesitantly. Then he reached out a hand toward her, as if to touch her temple, but he didn't actually make contact (and wouldn't) unless Molly seemed alright with it.

"I won't hurt you, I promise."

[Molly Quincannon] If Molly has a flaw (and she does; oh yes, she does) it's not that she's too trusting but that she's overconfident. She figures that if this nimrod tries anything stupid while he's in her head, she can backhand him out without too much trouble. The fact that he doesn't seem to be doing tech gets a raised eyebrow, but also a bit of a smile. "Okay, but if you start poking around my identity, you won't like it much. It's really safer if you don't know. But as far as my intentions about this go? Poke away; I've got nothing to hide."

[The Hunted] [Mind 3 - staying close to the surface, just checking intentions as agreed upon - diff 6 -1(practiced) -1(focus) -1(taking time)]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 3, 10, 10 (Success x 3 at target 3)

[The Hunted] At first glance, it didn't appear as though the man was using any tech, which was indeed interesting for one of his particular paradigm. When Molly gave him permission to do what he wanted to do, he touched icy fingertips to her temple and closed his eyes, but then he reached back with his other hand to touch something behind his ear, sliding his finger across it, and Molly would feel a presence enter her mind. He was careful, as she'd asked - he disrupted nothing and left no traces of himself behind, and there was a kind of razor-like precision with which he worked (like a surgeon.)

When he was done, he broke the contact (physically and mentally) and let out a long, exhausted sigh. "Thank you. I'm sorry that was necessary."

There was a set of patio furniture in the middle of the yard, and he moved toward it now, bending down to wipe away the snow that had settled on one of the chairs since the last time it had been cleaned (there wasn't much - it had been used recently.) Then he sat down. "They're fanatics, you know. The Four Horsemen, as they call themselves. They want to start the war all over again."

[Molly Quincannon] Molly sits down as well, setting the cloth bag on the counter and opening it to dig out the Tupperware container first, sliding it across the table towards Ben. "Yeah, I worked that one out. One's got rabies - metaphorically. I think, anyway - and the whole bunch are on what they're calling a mission from God. I don't have to feel bad about telling you that because clearly? You already got the readme file there." Now is not the time to get into a philosophical debate over whether the war really ended and who won, though it'd be fascinating to hear it from the other perspective...

But there are other things at hand. As she pours coffee into the Thermos cup-lid, she says, "Thing is ... whether they want to start the war up again or not, it's the immediate data that's the issue. Look, and you know I'm not going to hurt you no matter what you say here, so just be straight with me, okay? The data we've been given says that you're the last of a Progenitor research team that's been working on a way to..." She accesses her memory - it doesn't take long. "...suppress a demented Eidolon. It didn't work, you ended up with a lot of brain-damaged test subjects and had to kill the ones with any kind of power after the brain damage, and people got pissed about this and killed your research team. You're the last one left, by all accounts."

She takes a sip of the coffee - mostly to prove to him that it's not dangerous, even though he's browsed her headmeats and knows it isn't - and then passes the Thermos lid to him. "So ... talk to me. Is it true? What's up with that?"

[The Hunted] [Don't mind the mystery roll]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 3, 4, 4, 5, 6, 7, 9 (Success x 4 at target 6) [WP]

[The Hunted] His expression darkened for a moment when Molly relayed the information she'd been given. He looked... both surprised and angry (though not at her.) "They got access to our files? They shouldn't have been able to. Fuck..." he sighed and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. When Molly handed over the thermos lid, he accepted it gratefully and took a careful sip of the hot coffee. It was good, and had the circumstances been different he might have asked her about it (he loved coffee,) but there were more pressing matters at hand.

"Yes, I was the team-lead on that project. And yes, we were doing... what you say. There were some problems with the drug. When we tested it on lab rats, we found minimal side effects at best, but when the human trials started... " he shook his head. "I was going to stop the testing and make some adjustments, but I never had a chance to do that." When he spoke next, he looked Molly in the eyes. "You have to believe me, we never wanted to hurt anyone. We were only trying to help. And I never... never... authorized for anyone to be killed. We don't do that. I don't know what they did to those files, but that part isn't true. The subjects died in the explosion when the Horsemen attacked us."

[Molly Quincannon] [[Perc + Aware-as-Empathy: Is this man lying to me?]]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 4, 5, 6, 6, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6) [WP]

[The Hunted] This man is not lying to you.
to Molly Quincannon

[Molly Quincannon] Well. That's a lot to process. Like, a lot to process. But Molly is a creature of great passion, and so the first thing she says is, "Look, I know what you've been taught and what you know, but in the words of the great Weird Al Yankovic, everything you know is wrong. The only difference between you and me is a way of thinking, a way of being taught. Would you be particularly happy if someone turned around and tried to snuff your apparently undemented Eidolon? Made you less? Or would you die inside, in every way that matters, because the keys to greater understanding had been wrenched away from you for their own purposes?" She shudders; she can't help it, but at least it can be passed off as the cold. "Think about that. And tell me that you wouldn't fight to make sure that no one could take who you are away from you 'for your own good' or whatever the hell. And see if you can fit the lie between your teeth."

Then she sighs. "The rest ... I don't condone what you did; what you were trying to do. I can't. But ... stupid as it sounds, I don't think you should die for it. And I sure as hell don't think that you should be killed by zealots for something that you only half-did. Thing is ... well, there's not a lot I can tell you about this part of it, but you should know that whoever got you those files was not the Horsemen, but the people who set them on their current path. We've all got shadow players in the upper ranks, I bet. Anyway, they send out information and we never know how much of it is genuine, but these guys ... don't seem to care, for reasons of their own. Probably that's by design. The Horsemen are just pawns. Though I guess that won't matter too much if they get hold of you."

She shrugs. "So at the end of the day, here we are. You did a shitty thing to some people, but you did at least try to minimise the damage. Thing is, a lot of mine won't care any more than these Horsemen did. Me? I care, but I'm a voice among many. The others ... might care if it was something in it for them. I know you've been cut off; called a liability. How much help we can offer you - would be willing to offer you - depends entirely on how helpful people feel you could be. The best I could do was make sure you at least had a decent meal and something hot to drink. You looked when I first saw you like you were going to be in a bad way before too long."

[The Hunted] Molly made her case, and Ben... well, it wasn't clear whether he gave her words at the beginning any weight or not. He opened his mouth, as if to say something... but then he closed it again with a click, choosing instead to allow her to finish. He drank more of the coffee, and as she spoke, his expression grew progressively more brooding.

"The subjects... the people who came to us. They came because they were afraid. Because they'd hurt people, and they didn't want it to happen again. Like I said, we were trying to help." There was an element of stubborn insistence to the way he defended himself now. Perhaps he felt guilty. He'd looked a bit upset earlier, when Molly had mentioned the test subjects. But even so, it would probably take a lot to get him to admit to any uncertainty regarding the morality of his actions. He genuinely did seem to believe that he'd been doing the right thing. The fault lay in the execution.

But if there was any resistance to be had, that was all he seemed inclined to put up. He was a pragmatic sort, and he understood what it was that Molly (Maudlin) was telling him. "So basically, you're saying that if I let you help me, I might be fucked. And if I don't... I'm almost certainly fucked."

He glanced at the house behind them for a long moment.

"I guess I don't have much of a choice, do I?"

[Molly Quincannon] She said her piece, he said his (and oh by Gates' flabby ass, Isabel could have been any one of those, had she been scared enough...) and that, apparently, was that. He knows he did wrong. That's enough for her.

Now, though, there's a problem. "Not really, no. Not unless you're really big on the whole 'death' thing. Look, I need to talk to some people. The problem is finding you again. Clearly you don't want to be easy to find, because of the whole Horsemen thing. Don't want to be predictable, don't want to make any definite meeting dates and times. I get that. I'm also not going to be easy to find - for you, anyway. I had to take a few precautions, you understand. And there are places I can't take you." She thinks about it. "How are you on probability theory? I guess what I'm saying is, can you manufacture luck?"

[The Hunted] He looked at her strangely for a moment when she asked him this, then shook his head. "That's... no. I never studied probability theory. Do you have a safe house, maybe? Somewhere protected? I can keep them from finding me if I have help. I just... haven't been able to stay anywhere long enough. I don't have any money left."

[Molly Quincannon] There's a moment's thought ... and suddenly, an answer comes. "There's a place - it's not palacious, and is occasionally squatted in by homeless people, but that actually works to your advantage, particularly if you can make your average mundane type not notice it. If you can do that, and ward yourself, it'll do for a day, two at the outside - the only people who know about it on my end are me and someone who doesn't even know I'm here talking to you, who has no reason to go back. That'll give me enough time to talk to some people and see if we can't find you somewhere safer. You can throw up a metaphysical firewall, right?" With that, she quotes a street address - a pretty scuzzy spot at the worst section of Cabrini-Green, to be fair, but it's not like either of them have options. Letting him know there's a place he can stay is one thing. Taking him to her home and harbouring him ... well, there's only so far she'll go. She does have some sense.

Then - slowly, just in case - she reaches for her trouser pocket and pulls out her wallet. She doesn't carry that much cash, but she did expect something like this, and digs out about seventy-five dollars in small bills. "In the meantime, take this. It's not much, but it'll get you a change of clothes, some actually hot food and maybe a shower at Union Station. Everybody feels better when they're cleaned up and fed."

[The Hunted] Molly had an idea. Ben nodded, then pulled a slip of paper and a pen out of his coat pocket to take down the address. When she offered him the money, he glanced at it with surprise (perhaps he'd been hoping for a little assistance, but... this was more than he ever would have expected a complete stranger to offer up.) He seemed at a loss for words.

Then he just nodded, and took the money, and when he stood up, he reached out impulsively and... gave the Cultist a hug. There was a kind of desperate appreciation to the gesture, the way that people who feel panicked and hopeless can get, sometimes, when someone comes along and does something unexpectedly kind.

"Thank you," he said, softly. Wetness glistened in his eyes. He sounded like he meant it.

When he pulled away, he took a breath and regained his composure. "I have to warn you... don't come back to this place again. It's too risky. Understand?" He didn't explain why, exactly, but perhaps he didn't need to. Leaning over, he picked up the tupperware container with the pizza. "Do you mind if I take this with me?"

[Molly Quincannon] She smiles - it's a genuine thing. It's nice to be someone's hero now and then; giving really can be its own reward. She'll have to tell Israel she gets it now. "You're welcome. And go ahead. It was meant for you, anyway. The Thermos, too." She bought both things new, while her resonance was still masked; there's not enough imprint of her on either to track her down. "And don't worry. I won't come back here. No reason to."

Then, after a second's thought, a little bit of paranoia kicks in. (She's been dating Nathan. This should be expected by now.) "There's one more thing," she tells him, quietly. "But I don't want to talk about it aloud, if you get what I mean." She taps her temple - where he touched her earlier - gently with her first two fingers, indicating that he should do what he did before. Right now, she figures she can trust that he won't get invasive. She wants to give him an ace in the hole.

Assuming he does so, she thinks, as hard and as clear as she can, There are tunnels under the building. Avoid the first left just in case, but it'd be a good place to hide out if they managed to track you down. She also includes a mental image of the Correspondence-derived map laying out the tunnels below the building. It's a maze down there, but with a map to guide him, he should be okay if he has to take that route. It'll give him a chance. And that, literally, is all she can give him. She doesn't know what else she can do.

[The Hunted] [Mind 3 again, same deal]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 2, 10, 10 (Success x 2 at target 3)

[The Hunted] [let's extend that, just to be safe...]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 5, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 4)

[The Hunted] She wanted to communicate silently, in a way that no one would be able to trace, and he complied, touching her gently at the temple just as he had before, then reaching back to whatever it was he might have had implanted behind his ear. The information would transfer smoothly before he broke the connection.

Then he collected the coffee and pizza that had been brought for him. When he turned to go, he made for the back route, intent on taking a different direction than she would, and here he kicked the snow away from the gate and made his way out onto the street.