—
“...Listener base seems to be increasing. It is now more common among children to say 'a werecow ate my homework' rather than the tired complaint about pet brahmin. Building a better Wasteland starts in childhood! This is KVV-Circle-5. Sorry, enclosed alphanumerics do not translate well over verbal modes of communication. Oh the apology? Do we have tim—oh, all right. Listeners, I've always been of the opinion that it's better to have never made a mistake in the first place, but we don't always apologize for being wrong. Sometimes it's what you don't
say that you're apologizing for: The incomplete, misleading, or vague remarks that may be acted upon by others who have expected you to always conduct your profession with due diligence, even if that's not the standard for others in the same field. On that note I apologize for calling Miss Scarlet a 'bloodsucking parasite'. What I should have said is that Miss Scarlet is a bloodsucking, parasitic vampire. This song goes out to her!
“Kids, stay tuned to learn how you can get your very own Radio 5 stamp!” (⌚) 3:46 PM JST
[ (♫) ftp://falloutgensokyo.dyndns.org/KVV518.mp3 ] It didn't take any longer than five minutes since you booked it, but you're glad Mary had the perception and (selectively) good sense to tell you and Ren to stop when she heard voices not coming from the radio. If Ren had things her way, she'd be climbing on top the roof, for a 'surprise attack' with no thought as to how much noise that would generate or that you may not want to fight at all. After 30 seconds of whispering in a hiding spot created by the serendipitous arrangement of a fallen tree and a depression, it is decided that you should get close & attempt to observe her on the other side of the building.
If she's friendly, attempt to make contact.
If she's unfriendly, wait her out unless she starts to make off with your stuff.
You didn't even have to nominate yourself for the job; the combination of killing power without having obviously drawn a weapon, sneakiness, and the identifying Vault uniform under the leather jacket makes you a natural fit. You're in contact with Ren on channel 16 (27.155 ㎒), while Mary listens in on the woman's conversation on channel 12 (27.105 ㎒). You opt to leave the laser rifle behind; it's clunky. A rubber book strap makes the
Liber de Nymphis as ergonomic as a 700 year old, 5 ℔ textbook can be.
“Yes, I checked out the
entire compound!”
Peering around the rounded corner of the diner, you see her, outside near the pile of fairy corpses. Decidedly female. Definitely more cleanly than you'd expect a raider to be. Most importantly, she's alone. As to how she got in here relatively unarmored and (possibly) unarmed, without any kind of escort—the jet pack had more to do with than the black, vestigial bird wings. The shirt and brown tackle vest has obviously been modified to accommodate them. It isn't difficult to guess that she's a crow
tengu, even if you hadn't heard her on the radio before this morning: 'Simply flag down our flight-pack equipped eye-in-the-sky, Aya Shay-a-whatever, or tune into CB radio channel 12.' The other woman's voice is the WGNR announcer, so this must be 'Aya'. WGNR—that's '
Gensokyo
News
Radio' isn't it? Way up on Yatsugatake?
“I realize the importance—
if their existence is substantiated! And they are who who they say they are. Yes I know what I said on the air this morning. No that is not flip-flopping! Flip-flopping is—”
«I see her now,» you whisper. The speaker is off on your radio for obvious reasons, but you told Ren to listen anyway, as she has an uncanny ability to escalate violence. It's something that got very ingrained in her upbringing, ever since you all got you Vault weapons familiarity training certificates. Just something you have to accommodate. «Black hair, black wings. Definitely a crow
tengu. What I assume is some kind of jet-pack. No armor, except for a metal backpack. Only obvious weapon is a dinged metal bat. She doesn't have a CB radio, but she has a Pip-Boy.»
You don't need your radio to hear the
tengu's end of the conversation, as she is yelling in to. She is obviously frustrated, which would be why she's practicing her swing during the lulls: “No I don't think Wastoids and Tewi are reliable sources! I don't care if her circuit runs on time, she cheated Satan out of her soul by selling it to another devil! Yes, I know that's stretching the truth. It wasn't Satan, it was Moloch, and I know that because I
ran the story!”
She's not looking in your direction, but it would be hard to hide if you got any closer from this angle, and you can't see your belongings outside or near her. You can hear the Village Radio playing from inside the diner.
“Oh, so someone comes through, kills a bunch of ferals, and then heaps them up like so, and that makes them civil fucking servants?”
«Ren. I don't see our I stuff, but can hear the radio coming from inside the diner. I'm going to check it out.»
There's no back door to the diner, but the windows in the rear are as completely destroyed as in the ones in front, if smaller and in a more traditionally residential style.
You have to throw your jacket on the floor deaden the sound of the glass and so that you don't hurt yourself. However, if you got stuck, you'd look really dumb. Well, it wouldn't be the first time. Though the window is a tight fit, you don't get stuck, and enter the building atop a brushed steel stove. You don't knock over any of the perilously-arrayed trays of pots and pans in the mostly mostly part of Alice's Restaurant. The stairwell leading to the mostly-destroyed loft is to the left, the dank restroom is ahead, and the charming bloody hand-print is on the swinging door to the right.
“No, it wasn't a hack-job: blunt trauma, gunshot wounds, and two look like they were
boiled to death? No casings. No, Mo, I'm not going to take the bullets out! Find a goddamn coroner if you want them!”
«Ren, I'm in the kitchen,» you report. «I don't see our stuff here. This woman apparently can't modulate the sound of her own voice. Going out to the diner.»
With the radio playing, and her conversation
If you ducked and pushed the door open, she wouldn't see you behind the counter.
Crouching you slowly open the kitchen door.
But even if she couldn't see you, she might still be able to see the door swing open.
“Both high caliber, one near point blank, wadcutter given the size of the exit wound. Either a different gun or the same pistol—one lacks an exit wound. Now, if you follow the
trail of blood into diner...”
You stop breathing.
“Yeah. According to my Pip-Boy's spectrophotometer, there's still gunpowder particles in the air.”
[ (☝) Max passed his Sneak check! ] You start breathing again and ease the door shut behind you. Why doesn't your Pip-Boy have that functionality?
YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT A SPECTROPHOTOMETER IS.
No, but I'm looking it up as soon as I get home. Peeking your head around the counter, you spot your stuff. Sitting atop a window-side table opposite the counter. Not far. There's what looks like a red batting helmet with no obvious identifiers sitting next to a box radio is on the counter, playing the Village radio, loudly but it's not as loud as she is. She may be partially deaf. In any case it provides partial cover as you move around, for that, your thanks.
“No, we don't need to call in the Souhei! I thought we were an independent outfit!”
«Despite her sounding like a forensics expert, there's no chalk outlines or police tape.» You stand up well enough to see her, but not so well you couldn't run away in a hurry.
She's still not looking in this direction.
All right.
The duffel and the briefcase are the most valuable, and the survival gear is probably replaceable and would make a lot more noise. So those in either hand then run back into the kitchen.
“Yeah, so—“
Go. Go. Go.
“What happened? My best guess?”
Got it!
“As in my professional opinion and capacities as an award-winning, investigative photojournalist?”
It's a good thing she likes to talk. Otherwise, this wouldn't have been so easy and Ren would be shooting and Mary would be screaming—
“There was a
FIREFIGHT!”
Two gunshots. You throw yourself down to the diner floor with only the duffel in hand.
“No, Mo, I did not discharge my firearm. Twice. Had to be some other highly irresponsible crow
tengu. Probably imitating something she saw on the holovision once: Yes, 'Holovision Is the Culprit'! That's the title of my next exposé!”
She's definitely armed, but still sounds relatively far away and hopefully not getting any closer.
“No, Mo, I haven't been ab-using Psycho. That stutter wasn't a stutter! Because I
bust my hump covering the stories—you think anyone is any more into this stuff than me? Do you know many other
tengu who are willing to go out into the Wastes unarmored where any yahoo with a gun could take shots at them—“
You have maybe one minute before Ren runs in and this degenerates even more.
“Give me 'time to cool off'? I have a better idea! I'm going to cover a news story, and you're going to disc some jockeys or whatever it is you think you do for a living, fuck you, you talentless, tasteless, bourgeois
hack!” If she were using a phone, this would be the part where she slams the receiver.
Zero-to-nuts in fifteen seconds.
But you might be able to work with that.
Very calmly get up from the ground, dust yourself off, take the jacket off, get seated at the nearest booth. Not the one with her helmet, since you need the room. The sunglasses off too, you want to look as inoffensive as possible. Hat is fine. You can't be considered 'indoors' when the doors are mostly gone.
«I am not dead, and she isn't shooting at me. You there?»
No response. Well shit.
”Dai, I'm going to try to salvage this. I need you to put my voice on all possible frequencies, add some gain & gravity.”
(☏) Max is attempting to broadcast over all radio channels... ] You were worried that she would still in a foul mood, but after loud warbling and warping, your voice comes through your own and 'Aya's' Pip-Boy
loud.
“Hello, friend. Are your friendships experiencing turbulence?” And as smooth as silk.
“Did you get shot down by someone important to you? Or maybe your career is not taking off the way you planned?” You couldn't even hear 'Momizi' before, but your voice comes out clear as crystal. It even starts fighting KVV5 on the box radio. She hears it, and her head is spinning like a fat kid in a candy store. She's still got that gun in her hand though, so you draw an equilateral triangle in the dust on the table.
“Well, when it seems like the rest of the world is taking a nose-dive, don't burn up on reentry! Consult with our crew of professional Vault-engineered 'Personal Technicians' and we'll get your life in working order. The Vault ⑨ PT Corps: You'll be flying again in no time.” [ (☝) Max passed his Speech check! ] She sees you.
Wave. Triangle.
She doesn't wave back, but she does start running—no, bounding—yes, bounding toward you! You can't even finish your triangle, before she almost overshoots the doorway, saved by her left hand the door frame. Triangle. This also has the convenient effect of orienting her toward you, though sidesteps back to the doorway. The baseball bat is left in the literal dust. Until she puts her gun away, it's not absolutely safe to tell Rem & Mary to come out, but they probably will anyway, even though they probably heard more of her conversation than you did. How many is this? Seven triangles? She must note your Vault ⑨ jumpsuit, and your idle and apparently empty hands, followed by recognition of your Pip-Boy. Despite her silence and her 'guarded' body language, her curious red eyes glitter like well-faceted rubies. At the door frame, she looks like a cartoon character behind a tree not wide enough, regarding you with almost comical suspicion. The gun is some matte black deal with a bunch of attachments that doesn't shine no matter which angle you might look at it. Same color as most of her skirt, which is so short that on a rack it might be mistaken for a belt, if not for the pleats and worn, white lace. A blouse that looks like a Hawaiian shirt soaked in kerosene.