Bastion: Rome

Demiurge
And here are again!
1: You know the rules by now. Same deal as before.
2: This is basically an introductory scene. I won't be throwing any major challenges at you. Chances of combat are low.
3: I'm totally e-mailing you guys a bunch of notes about the setting after I make my first post. Because this is that kind of SL.
4: I am more than likely going to have to fudge some things when I write about this place. You will understand what I mean by that when you see where they are. I will try not to make any mistakes that are too egregious, but if I do anything stupid, I apologize in advance.
5: Wee!

Demiurge
The last thing they all heard - the last thing they felt - before the world went dark was Maddoc's death. It was like the snap of a piano wire when his Will was severed from the connection he'd made with them. A dark and silent absence where once a light had been there to guide them.
They were alone here. Wherever they were going, from here on out, they would have to find their own way.
For a long moment, there was nothing.
Then light. Light. And heat - the warmth of the sun. The smell of sand and stone and horses and crowds of people. And suddenly the world snapped into focus.
They were in a city filled with ancient architecture. Buildings of stone and mud-bricks. The ground beneath their feet was hard-packed earth and dust from the dry summer heat. And there were people - so many people - crowding the street and shouting over each other to be heard as they congregated near what looked to be various street vendors selling food and textiles and large clay jugs full of what might have been wine. Most of the people were dressed simply in folds of draping cloth - some serviceable, some complete with decorative flourishes - and leather sandals. For most people, these fashions would ring with an air of historical familiarity.
As did the city around them.
A flock of birds soared overhead. And in the distance, the sound of horns marked the arrival of the Empire's victorious soldiers.
This was ancient Rome.
The three of them were standing at the edge of the crowd, pressed back near the wall of whatever building lay behind them. A brief inspection would find them looking both like and not like themselves. Their bodies - their faces - were their own. But their clothes were the clothes of this place - rough and simple outfits marking them as part of the working class. Along their belts hung small leather pouches containing what felt like a few coins, but other than that... they had nothing. No weapons, no modern devices.
There was a thematically appropriate phrase for finding oneself in this sort of situation.
The horns sounded again, and the people cleared the street to make room for the incoming parade. Horses carrying equites (cavalry soldiers) decked in fine uniforms and shining helmets led the front of the march behind the Praetor, an older, grizzled war veteran who looked as though he'd faced many battles in his lifetime. Behind them came long rows of centurians and lower infantry, marching as a single unit as they entered the city.
All around them, people stopped and cheered.

Grace
It's easy to make the decision to flee in the moment, when adrenaline spikes and details stand out and everything is calculated in terms of what will bring the most success. It's not so easy to live with that decision. Grace knows she'll be hearing the sound of Maddoc's screams over and over again, a running soundtrack of her life for at least a while to come, if she lives long enough. At least she didn't look over her shoulder to watch. At least she didn't see the wolf rip out his spine. The sounds were enough. The feeling of his being violently severed from them -- that was enough.
So when the black fades to sunlight, and she looks around herself -- it's hard to get that cool, logical self back. They just lost the person who was supposed to be their guide.
It takes a while for the new reality to begin seeping through. Grace has to remind herself that just because someone has died doesn't mean she gets to stop. There could be danger here. The wolf could return.
Grace looks around, looks at herself, at her companions, at the world she's found herself dropped into, and just says: "Shit."

Lena Reilly
Lena stumbles a little when they are suddenly here.  After all, they had been running just before reality snapped them into this new (old) world.  There's a moment where she looks like she might pitch over and fall on her face but she keeps from it, her balance kicking in enough that she is able to catch herself from being embarassed.
That moment passed, she straights up and recomposes herself.  The smells hit her first, and the heat.  The taste of dust, the odors of food so very different from their own.  No preservatives or artificial scents.  Leather, oil, human sweat.  Horse shit.  Probably some piss and puke somewhere, too.  This is ancient Rome, ladies and gentlemen, and modern pop culture tales of the era love to glorify the stenches.
She looks down at her clothes, frowns a little.  She wipes at her brow because damn it, it's already hot and thus they're sweating.  "Oh, this is just great.  We couldn't end up in some kind of Amazonian society?"  Ah, well.  She looks around at the other two, gives a sympathetic look.  They're going to be without their foci.  She has a little more flexibility in that respect, but she gets how much that's gonna suck.
And then the sounds of horses and soldiers.  She steps back out of the street, reaching out to take Grace and Patience by the hand and pull them gently back with her.  Hey, she is better with touch when it's a mindscape.  This isn't really her body, after all.
"Let's see where this is going."

Patience
They had made a decision which might well haunt them for months to come, they had sacrificed one of their own to take a step further, Maddoc had thrown himself upon the grenade that was Wulf, and taken the blast for the betterment of all...But they were supposed to be the good guys, the good guys stand together and fall together...it would take a while to digest that, even for Patience.
But other things took precedence, the hear and now.
The Holy Roman Empire, Patience stood there for a long, uncertain moment as she took in the sights, sounds and smells of the ancient metropolis.  She had read about this time, there were few who hadn't, or at the very least hadn't seen a movie about it.
But to see it, to feel it all around you...this was a difference that could only be experienced in the flesh [or simulated flesh as it was]. Grace speaks first, less then impressed and Patience simply nods, the sentiment plainly shared.
As Lena drew them back, further away from the parade, speaking of letting the scenario run its course Patience pursed her lips.
"Intrinsic data points extrapolate a thesis which indicates and outlines a significant probability ranging in the sixty seven point six two to seventy nine point nine nine percentiles that this relativistic existence is in fact, not objectively based."

Demiurge
[doo-be-doo]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 3, 6, 6, 8) ( success x 3 )

Lena Reilly
[[Per+Alertness, Uncanny Instincts]]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (2, 4, 6, 6, 6, 10) ( success x 5 ) [WP]

Demiurge
It was difficult for the three women to carve out a place for themselves in the midst of this churning crowd. Lena pulled them back against the wall, as much out of the way of the parade as was possible, as each of them tried to get their bearings in the face of this new and potentially difficult landscape. Ancient Rome was hardly the ideal place for three women, let alone the fact that two of them were now absent their much-needed foci.
There were certainly more convenient settings they might have ended up in. Though at the least, this was a world that could be defined by rules they understood. Most people had at least a passing familiarity with ancient roman history. If the three of them ever found their way out of here, who knew where they'd end up next? And if that place would even resemble common reality?
The parade continued to march down the road, heading toward the center of the city. The soldiers' weapons and armor gleamed in the bright afternoon sun. They radiated victory. Conquest.
That was when Lena felt something tug at her side. At the coin purse tied to her belt. The thief was fast, but her instincts were faster, and a quick look would find her confronted with the image of a child - a boy, maybe 8 years old - unkempt and dirty, with his hands on her purse as he worked to pull it free.

Patience
[Init+5]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (9) ( success x 1 )

Grace
Grace's first reaction to being grabbed by the hand in this kind of crowd is to scream. Luckily for her and everyone else, she doesn't make it too far down that path, and only ends up with a shocked little noise before nodding to Lena.
"We are so screwed," Grace says, her face hard and her eyes jolting from thing to thing. Even though they are 'screwed' as she put it, the mind still goes about its work categorizing everything the maker of this place thought was emblematic of Ancient Rome.
"Maybe literally. People didn't think too much of women in this time. Fucking Maddoc."
Yeah, fuck you for sacrificing yourself to save her, right? Strange sentiments for strange times. He should be here to guide them. He should be here to help. Even though they left him no choice as to whether to take them all, still. How dare he just up and die?

Grace
[Init + 6]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (8) ( success x 1 )

Lena Reilly
"Relax, Grace."  It's not said in with any bite or condescension to it; it's actually soothing in tone.  "We're in a world with rules.  A closed system.  You know closed systems and what to do with them.  What would you do if you were in a hostile computer network where the rules were stacked against you?"
It's half-rhetorical, half-not rhetorical; part of it intended to make Grace relax and start thinking of the whole thing like a computer and the other half wanting to know what Grace would do.  Lena has her own ideas, because she's thinking of this as a mindscape in the literal sense.  They're in someone's (or something's) consciousness.  Knowing that gives them power.
Knowing that means they're not screwed.
And then something is reaching to tug at her belt and she whips out with her hand to catch the boy's.  Her intent isn't to hurt him, but to stop him.  She's seen The Scorpion King.  You always make friends with the street theives.
[[Init + 5]]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (5) ( fail )

Patience
"Such aurally disseminated socio-stigmatic analogs are at this temporal juncture ineffectual, if poignant Grace." Patience said without looking at her companion, instead she was still looking around at the place around them, taking it in, trying to formulate a plan. Whats more she was trying to formulate a way in which she could still work her etheric science.
It was a mindscape, there was no doubt of that. But in the same moment it felt so very real. So real infact she felt the need to adjust her robe to ease its stifling nature in the oppressive heat of a roman summer.
When Lena reaches to grab at the boy attempting to lighten her load Patience simply aims to intercept the boy should he try to run...hurting him served no purpose of course, except to draw attention to themselves.

Demiurge
[Little boy init +6]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (10) ( success x 1 )

Demiurge
[And the order is:
Boy: 16
Grace: 14 (+6)
Patience: 14 (+5)
Lena: 10
Let's do some declares!]

Lena Reilly
[[Grab at the boy's hand]]

Patience
[Intercept the boys flight]

Grace
[Grab the kid!]

Demiurge
[Boy:
1a: Evade Lena
1b: Evade Grace]

Demiurge
[Dex+Ath -2]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (5, 6, 6, 9) ( success x 3 )

Demiurge
[Dex+Ath -3]
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (7, 10, 10) ( success x 3 )

Grace
[Dex + Ath = Catch the child!]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 6, 7) ( success x 2 )

Demiurge
[Little boy evades Grace]

Patience
[Dex+Ath]
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (3, 4, 9) ( success x 1 )

Lena Reilly
[[Hahaha this should be funny.  Dex+Ath and I mean the WP this time!]]
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 8) ( success x 2 ) [WP]

Demiurge
[Boy evades Lena, hah! Got your coins! And Patience is now in the way of his exit.]

Lena Reilly
[[Try to catch him again!]]

Patience
[Startle the boy, command him to stop!]

Grace
[Grab boy again!]

Demiurge
[Boy:
1a: Duck through Patience's legs
1b: Run!]

Demiurge
[Dex+Ath -2]
Dice: 4 d10 TN7 (4, 4, 7, 8) ( success x 2 )

Demiurge
[Boy makes it past Patience]

Grace
[WP Diff 8 = Change action -- run after boy]
Dice: 6 d10 TN8 (1, 2, 3, 6, 7, 9) ( success x 1 )

Grace
[Dex+Ath = Run after boy!]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 4, 5) ( fail )

Patience
[WP diff 8]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 4, 6, 7, 7, 8) ( success x 4 )

Patience
[Dex+Ath]
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (2, 4, 5) ( fail )

Lena Reilly
[[WP to change action: Work some magicky magic.]]
Dice: 6 d10 TN8 (4, 6, 7, 7, 9, 9) ( success x 2 )

Demiurge
[Grace trips on someone's foot and falls]

Lena Reilly
[[Mind 2: Mental Impulse "Stop!"  -1 for specialty focus, -1 Quintessence, spending WP]]
Dice: 2 d10 TN3 (1, 5) ( success x 2 ) [WP]

Demiurge
[Kid stops running]

Demiurge
Coming on the heels of Maddoc's death; of finding themselves in a world where they didn't belong, one could hardly blame Lena, Grace and Patience for being unprepared. For not reacting quickly enough to catch this small thief. And the kid really was fast, taking advantage of his delicate size to duck and weave as he avoided their combined attempts to catch him. For a moment there, when Patience positioned herself to block him between their bodies, it looked as though they might have the upper hand. But then the boy dove between Patience's legs and began to run. In her rush to catch him, Grace tripped over Patience and fell to the ground, landing on the hard-packed earth. Beside them, the other people reacted to the commotion by shifting slightly out of the way, but none made any motion to assist. This sort of thing happened every day.
Almost, the boy disappeared into the crowd and was gone. Almost. But then Lena began to sing her song, and he stopped still, listening to the lilt and flow of her voice over the noise of the crowd and the marching soldiers. For a few moments, as she sang, it almost seemed as though the rest of it faded into the background.
When the boy turned around, he blinked at Lena as though trying to comprehend what had just happened. He was breathing hard from the exertion of his escape, and the coin purse lay clutched in his palm, all-but-forgotten.

Grace
It's almost a blessing, this distraction. Suddenly Maddoc's death and their impending doom isn't the only thing on Grace's mind. There's a boy, and then there's the ground rushing up to meet her face.
Thank goodness for the little things.
She snorts at the dust, almost laughing at the absurdity of the last few minutes before getting up again and dusting her costume off. She knew what Lena was up to with that song. It doesn't surprise her to see the boy stopped in his tracks.

Lena Reilly
Lena doesn't sing that much.  Her musical talents, she has always known, lie in other venues.  She knows the ebb and flow of the beat, the aesthetics and the passions of soundwaves and tones.  She can assemble them into electronic beeps and squelches, take other people's voices and weave it into something transcendant.  This is what she does when she makes music.
But that doesn't mean she can't sing.  She just doesn't do it much.  But she enjoys it, and when she needed this moment to stop a child in his tracks she went deep inside of herself to a distant memory when her mother would sing to her.  It's not a song that anyone of this era would know; an old Irish lullabye that Joanne Reilly would hum at random times.  Her voice isn't loud; in fact it's quite soft.  But she knows how to make it carry and it catches the wind, her consciousness travelling piggy-back to get into the boy's ears and curl around his mind.
Stop.
And so he does stop, and she smiles, keeps singing a little more.  She drops to a crouch as she does, lets the song taper off and reaches out.
"Come here.  I'm not going to hurt you.  I'll even let you keep the money, but you have to do something to earn it.  Nothing much...all you have to do is talk with us and maybe lead us somewhere."

Patience
The kid managed to dive between her legs...her legs of all things and Patience cursed inwardly at the awkward toga she wore as she turned, fingers grasping at thin air just beyond the boy...before Grace tripped over her, causing both women to fight for their balance.
But then Lena sang, and for Patience it was the first time she'd ever heard her do so. It was an impressive display, one ripe with the resonance of the Cultist. The boy stopped and Patience smiled knowing that they wouldn't be missing that amount of money at least.
But magic had been done, and while Patience didn't expect anyone to notice, she carefully scanned the sea of faces to see if anyone took notice, if anyone saw more then a couple of women being robbed by yet another street urchin.
[Per+alert]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (2, 5, 6, 7, 9) ( success x 3 )

Demiurge
A few of the faces in the crowd did glance in Lena's direction while she sang, not with suspicion but with mild curiosity. Her song was an unfamiliar one to them, so it was only natural that one or two people would take note. But mostly? It was hard to find much of anything of interest with the Roman military marching through the street and the intermittent blast of the victory horns echoing through the city.
The procession was nearing the end at this point, and behind the soldiers Grace and Patience might be able to make out the shape of moving carts. Of heavy wooden cages full of captured slaves.
Lena though, her focus was on the boy. On calming him and convincing him that she meant him no harm. The kid looked at her skeptically and twisted his mouth at an odd angle, chewing at his cheek with nervous energy.
Finally he took a couple of tentative steps forward. He left enough distance between them that if Lena made a grab for him, he had a chance of escape, and glanced between the three of them with wary observance.
"What do you want to know?"
His voice had an odd cadance to it. An accent that didn't match any modern language. But beyond that, he was easy enough to understand.

Grace
"A little anachronistic, that," Grace says, under her breath. But it's not like it didn't work. At least Lena isn't without her tools of the trade.
"What's your name? And what are we celebrating today?" she asks the boy, in a tone that suggests that she already knows and is giving the boy a pop quiz.
Depending on the answer, she might be able to nail down a time period or a place.

Lena Reilly
The comment from Grace draws a wry smile and an expression that would be the equivalent to a shrug without actually lifting her shoulders.  A song is a song, and to Lena time is all relative.  Right now is the same time as way back when, which is the same time as the point in which the universe will cease to be.  It's all relative, not to mention wibbly-wobbly.
The look to Grace is brief though, and then she's looking back.  "My name is Lena.  My friends and I are wondering what the big procession is for, and where they're going."  The way she lets it trail off suggests that follow-up questions are distinctly possible.

Patience
Patience stood there watching the crowd, listening to the interaction between Lena and the boy. She had nothing add, no reason to involve herself, if anything she was certain that speaking more then a few words to the child would just confuse the situation, slowing down their plan and increasing the chance of their bodies failing. [after all who knew how long had transpired in the real world?]
She did however taken in the wagons full of prisoners, trying to gauge for herself just whom the romans had bested.

Demiurge
The kid looked at Grace silently for a moment before offering, to all of them: "Felix."
The second question took more consideration, as the boy glanced toward the marching army.
"They celebrate the glory of Rome." But more to the point... "They're back from Thrace. Don't know where the soldiers are going. Probably the barracks."
The boy's expression grew quizzical for a moment, like he couldn't quite believe that this was information they couldn't just as well gather for themselves.
"May I leave now?"

Grace
[int/academics = Thracian victory procession means what exactly?]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 4, 6, 7, 8, 10) ( success x 4 )

Demiurge
[It's difficult to know for sure exactly what year this is meant to be with only that information to go on, but significant Roman expansion into the area once known as Thrace (now part of Southeastern Europe) occurred during late BCE. Spartacus, of course, and the slave rebellions, would be the most obvious association with that period, being that Spartacus himself originally came from Thrace. If they're here during that period in history, then it could be anywhere between 100 - 70 BCE.]

Grace
"No," Grace says, looks to Lena. "I think we need to be looking for a man named Spartacus. Ring a bell?"
She nods her head in the direction of the slave cages, "Maybe start with there."
"Felix, do you know where they're taking the slaves?"

Lena Reilly
She arches an eyebrow, because Roman history is not her area of expertise.  Lena has things she knows and knows well...but this?  Not one of them.  And so she looks to Grace when she suggests that, and nods.  She'll follow the Virtual Adept's lead.
"We'd really appreciate knowing, Felix.  The money's all yours if you tell us."

Demiurge
"They'll take them to sell in the market."
Felix glanced at the procession as the slave carts began to roll past. Some of the people looked to be in fairly poor condition. More than likely they'd end up as house slaves or - worse - taken to a mine and used for hard labor. Sold and resold like so much cattle. A fair handful of them looked as though they could do some damage in the arena. More than likely some would end up sacrificed to the gladiators for the sake of spectacle.
The boy pointed at one cage in particular, where a handful of young men - possibly Thracian soldiers - sat together in the rags of what used to be their armor. These men and boys were hardened and athletic, many of them marked with battle scars. One, a boy who looked around 18 or 19, with dark hair and eyes and olive skin, actually caught Grace's eyes for a moment.
"Those are prisoners. They will be in the victory celebration next week."

Grace
Grace rubs her eyes soon after the boy meets hers. It's all a bit too much. "Just what I needed, more blood."
"And what do they have in store for the victory celebration? Gladiator fight?"

Demiurge
The boy shot Grace a skeptical look, one eyebrow raised as if to imply that he wasn't sure if she was really asking him these questions or if it was meant as a joke. Nothing about her tone or expression seemed to hint at dishonesty, though.
"You must be visiting."
They certainly did seem a bit out of place.
"There's going to be a circus, to thank the gods for our victory. Performances, chariot racing. Of course there will be gladiators."

Lena Reilly
She follows where Felix is pointing, looking the young men over.  Obviously, it's not in any sort of way that many might construe wrong; she isn't looking for dating stock in the mindscape setting of ancient Rome.  It's a curious look, and then a considering one.
Then she looks back at Felix and smiles.  "Thank you Felix.  You can go now."  And she stands, lets the boy go.
She looks back to the others.  "We need to find out if they're here, and if not where the next door is.  If it has them here, prisoner cages wouldn't be a bad place to start."

Grace
Grace nods, "Maddoc said that we shouldn't look for them, but if we can find them, the more help we can get the better."
She continues, trying to draw the three into a low-voice conversation. "The conquest of Thrace led to slave revolts by the prisoners. Thracians apparently weren't very keen on being enslaved, not that anyone would be really. I'd place the date to be somewhere between 100 to 70 BCE. And the pop-culture tie-in to this particular time with these particular events would be that Charlton Heston movie with all the gladiator battles -- Spartacus. The Romans were quite brutal about crushing slave revolts."
Grace watches the procession for a while. "I hope that the prize for winning all the gladiatorial bouts isn't an ouroboros. I sure as shit am not going to win any fights."

Lena Reilly
"I know we aren't supposed to find them.  I also know that I considering that admonition as more of a guideline than an actual rule."
She looks around and frowns.  "Yeah, I'm no fighter myself.  But we've got other ways of getting what we want.  And if that's the case, it would be championing a gladiator.  But before we start buying slaves, let's go look around."

Demiurge
The moment Lena said he could go, the boy nodded and made off into the crowd. He was out of sight not more than a few seconds later.
Which left the three of them only slightly better off than they had been upon arrival: with more information, but less money. Pretty soon the parade would finish, and the people would return to their business moving about the streets, buying and selling from the vendors nearby.
And Grace, Lena and Patience would be left wondering where to start and what to do with themselves in this completely alien environment. Maybe their friends were here. Maybe.
The chances were... not high. But surely they had to find out.