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Solo marrow

195 Posts
19 Threads
Registered: Nov 2017

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Character Sheet

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Crowns: ♛4,690
After a lengthy processing involving some time in the clink and a bit in the clinic, one Mr. Tate Wade was finally released.
The lanky man in his thirties brushed dust from his dungaree jacket as he left the holding facility at last, scruffy hair once dyed a brilliant orange now reduced to a faded, oily black.

The memories that swirled in his mind were seamless and fitting given his situation, but a hard bead in his gut told him something was amiss.
As he walked down the steps, SunnyD pulled a flip phone from his jacket and dialed a number from memory.

Once he heard the dial tone stop he said, "Yo!
Sorry I missed the party.
Got held up."

"No big," said a voice on the other end.
"No one came anyways."

"Oh, yeah?" Sunny said, stopping at the bottom of the stairs.
"That's too bad."
He cast his gaze across the street, watching cars speed by.
"Do you mind if I head over now?"

After hailing a taxi that dropped him off at a house in the middle of suburbia, SunnyD cut around to the back where he dove into a cellar.
Cloaked in the shadows of a long hall, he knocked on one of the doors that marked its walls, waiting approximately seven seconds before saying, "Don't tell me you fell asleep, dude."

After a moment there were several clicks and the door opened, a man, several years younger and with tired eyes, stared blandly at him as he stated, "I'm a little hung-over."
He swept his hand out, leading Sunny in, then shutting and locking the door several times over.
His eyes cast towards a small light that had blinked on above the door.

"Why don't you hang your jacket here?"
He opened up a door to what looked to be a laundry room and restroom mixed.
A dryer and washer sat with clothes piled up in plastic baskets, and past a curtain there was a toilet and bath-shower.
The man pointed to a counter with fresh clothes on it, shutting the door behind Sunny while a tape began to play over a speaker in the room, consisting of banter between Sunny and the other man.

Sunny grimaced as he stripped down to the skin, took a thorough if speedy cold shower, then slipped on the unfamiliar clothes.
He left the room with door shut tight, and turned the corner to a small room glowing blue from the light cast by monitors pinned to a wall.
Sunny kept silent while several more checks from head-to-toe were made.

After a few tense minutes the coast was deemed clear.

In one moment Sunny relaxed with a breath of relief, and in the next his muscles tightened up once more.
"Is the memory guy here?" he asked.

"Not for long," the other man said, sorting the detectors they'd used into tidy rows.

Just after he said that another door had opened up, and from it a much older man well within his late middle ages stopped on the edge of the light.
He wore white cloths over baggy greenish clothes, looking much like a physician prepped for surgery.
In a gravelly voice he said, "I have time for one last splice."

"We have to leave," the other pressed.

"Dude," said Sunny, "don't invite me over when you know exactly what I'm looking for.
So let's cut to the chase."

Sunny followed the middle-aged man into the dark room, propping himself up onto a flat table.
The door was sealed shut and all the hum of the monitors was gone, soon replaced by the buzzing of a bulb as a bright lamp was switched on overhead.
Sunny leaned back onto the table, squinting into the light, and waited for the process to begin.

Smoke, smoldering.
Metal cells stacked up like boxes.
Handcuffs and lie detectors, gray fading white.
Injections, knives, padded rooms.
Rounds upon rounds of talking and thinking.
Then the chair drifting away from the light.

SunnyD was sitting back in the blue room before he even knew it.
He blinked and rubbed his eyes, the muffled sounds of the other two coming into focus.
They were busy packing up, shredding, burning.
He watched them while reflecting on the memories as they came back to him.

Close call--a VERY close call.
Closer than he would have liked.

Sunny's heart dropped to his stomach.
"Did they do it?"

The older man paused with a handful of tools, glancing at Sunny as he started to stand up.
"Careful there," he warned.
"I had to dig pretty deep there for a while.
They're advancing."
This last sentence he said more to the younger man than to Sunny.

Sunny put a hand on the couch arm, eyes swimming, head spinning.
"I think they took it," he said again, a forlorn expression crossing his features as he turned to the young man.

"No surprise there," he said.
"As Althaus said: 'they're advancing'--getting better at a lot of things.
They won't wait for us to get out of the dumps."

Sunny was silent for a moment, waiting until he could stand without support.
His gaze drifted as he reflected on what he knew now.
It was gone: the thing that had been a part of him for so long.
Just like that.

He knew he should be thankful that he hadn't been killed, but this...this was one of the "or worse" scenarios.
He'd used "it" so much to assist Eden's subversion efforts.
What he was going to do without its help?

He looked back up.
"So; that's it?
You're skipping town?"

A hammer was tossed towards him; Sunny struggled to catch it, barely managing to keep it off the floor.
"Don't be like that," the other said, pointing to some hard drives in a corner.
Sunny stepped over and began to smash them in.

"Of course not," he continued.
You should know as well as us that the capital's all hot around the collar lately.
We're heading out to this small town."
Sunny was slipped a map, which he gave a good look.
"Lotta folk holding out over there."

"A lot of brains to fix," added Althaus as he came back for another round of supplies.

Sunny kicked the pieces of the drives into another corner where many other things had been piled up, tearing up the map before tossing it into a burning bin.

"Are the charges set?" asked Althaus.
"You know it," replied the other man.

"Hey," Sunny said, watching while gasoline was poured over the pile of junk.
"D'you mind if I hitch a ride with you guys?"

The door to the cellar was opened, the stench of fumes sinking into the concrete.
"Nope," someone answered.
Sunny grinned, following the duo down the hall, away from the cellar's outside doors.
They were stopped by what appeared to be a dead end.

A lighter was flicked on, setting the trail of gasoline aflame.

"Qiu," Sunny said, offering the weary-faced man a sidelong smile.
"Good to see you made it out alive."

Then a button was pushed and explosions rocked the hall.
Concrete crumbled as cellar and house alike caved in, casting their little space into darkness.

"Let's hit it!"
[Image: voyager_disco_poster.jpg]

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