Power Play: A scene.

Hiro slouches in his seat. This is not indicative of boredom, or uneasiness, or intoxication -- part of what defines 'Hiro' as 'Hiro' is simply that he slouches. An ashtray balances precariously on his chair's left arm, full of cigarette butts and ash and roaches and bottlecaps, overflowing to the critical mass point, teetering on the brink of a mess Daisy will have to clean up, because it's Daisy's job and Hiro is Friday and Hiro does whatever he damn well pleases, thank you very much.



He hits the joint, greasy brown with resin, and passes it to the right, to Penny. His eyes are fixed on the dome dominating the coffee table, an antique stock ticker liberated from eBay.



"We gonna do this?" he asks Penny.

Penny has her legs kicked over the right arm of her chair. She could be touching heads with Hiro if she were high. Taking the joint from him, she inhales a few times, cough-talking "We-gon-na-do-this," snorts smoke out her nose.



How the Invisible College got their hands on one of the first Edison Universal Stock Printers, on ebay no less, was definitely due in some part to Pobble's ever expanding collection of connections; amazing what money will buy. Penny, glazed but interested, can't take her eyes off the thing - a victorian masterpiece of brass, mahogany and a large roll of spooled white paper - "..it looks like an upended turn-table, really" she continues some internal monologue outwardly "and when we ask it to, the spirit will turn over the gears and .." she passes the joint back.



"Listen up," puts her fingers on the plaque, covering someone's name obscenely-wealthy-at-one-point. Who she's talking to isn't quite clear "Tap that little thing over there." Maybe she meant Hiro. 'That Little Thing' is the paper-forwarder. "You should try talking to them, ..it, with me, y'know?"

Hiro says, "Ok, is there any specific system for describing rotes here?"
Hiro says, "Like how we should break it down or something?"
Quiet says, "You can describe it to me now. I've not seen one yet. I assumed there wasn't but that is a failure on my part. I'll check with Oblivion."
Hiro says, "OK. We're using the stock ticker as a kind of ouija board. It's a relic -- a symbol of power just because of it's antiquity. We've wired it right into the fuse box. A computer microphone -- one of those cheap plastic boom mics people use for dictation and like net teleconferencing -- is wired directly into the current, and the ticker has a fresh roll of paper. It's two-way communication, so we can speak to it and it can respond through the stock ticker. We're trying to contact the largest, oldest electricity spirit in residence -- the big one, the one Hiro's already nicknaming 'Old Man General Electric'. The big kahuna that was in charge of the generators. The idea is that the ticker acts as a beacon, to draw the spirit in to speak to us."

Quiet pages: Thats fine. Two of you pose the beginning. Then make the first roll. Then the second pose. Then a second roll. Using anything to modify the DC of your roll?

Slouched in his high-backed chair, Hiro gives something like mumbled assent; exhaling a viscous cloud of marijuana smoke. He straightens, or at least tilts his slouch forward: laying fingertips against the edge of the stock ticker. Eyes close half-way, either from concentration or intoxication. He clears his throat, taking this very seriously -- steampunk telegraph machine his own postmodernist ouija board.

Hiro rolls arete (3 dice) at a difficulty of 5:

<8> <5> <10>

Achieving 3 successes, resulting in a complete success.

The paper moves inch by inch, threading itself through the mechanism to make contact with the two alphanumeric wheels. Penny sits back and takes the joint from Hiro again, tokes.

She exhales over the dome, then the perspective changes dramatically. The smoke seems to displace itself inside the glass dome and expand it outward, super-imposing and image of itself the full width of the table.
Penny rolls 3 (3 dice) at a difficulty of 5:

<5> -1- 2

Achieving 0 successes, resulting in a failure
Penny watches the dome, stunned to a more upright position "That wasn't supposed to happen."

The air slowly takes on a charged feeling. Like the sense before a storm, the tingling of the static in the air of electricity looming in the distance.

"Hsst," Hiro hisses through his teeth, all don't-anger-the-spirits touchy about this shit. Maybe his favorite porn site was down this morning. A deep breath, released through bared-clenched teeth... which Pigboy didn't brush this morning. Fingers splay out, pinkie to index spread across the rim of the machine's base. "Imagination at work," he recites, enunciating each syllable carefully. No, no sanskrit, no forbidden languages. Corporate slogans.

Hiro rolls arete (3 dice) at a difficulty of 6:

4 3 -1-

Achieving -1 successes, resulting in a botch!

Quiet winces. At least it's a 0.
Hiro says, "Yeah :b"
Hiro says, "smoking dope and invoking forbidden powers. I don't see how we're going wrong.."
Quiet says, "Now all you need is some hideous Lovecraftian book."

"Would you fucking concentrate? Fuck, man fucking thing maxed out Pobble's Centurion for the quarter.." - of course, he doesn't know that yet, she asides "don't tell him, okay. Okay. Okay okay" her best Joe Pesci "just let it happen, right?" She closes her eyes and lowers her chin to her chest; not quite zen but it'll do.

[Willpower] Penny spends a Willpower point.
Penny rolls 3 (3 dice) at a difficulty of 6:

5 <9> <9>

Achieving 2 successes, resulting in a moderate success.

Quiet says, "That would give us a total of six unless I can't count."
Hiro nods.

It happens again; a ghost of the ticker expanding outward toward Penny and Hiro - and then past them. Past the table and the down to the floor, the image increasing overhead like a projection until it loses all resolution.

Penny reaches out into the space in front of her, chipped nail polish throwing off points of light, like morse code. "Do you see it yet?"

Eyes flicker shut, open slowly. Hiro snatches his hands back from the machine as if shocked: fingertips rubbing together, fidgeting. He kipes the half-smoked joint from Penny, takes a long hit to 'center himself'. Exhale, a long narrow stream. Tone formal, offering the weed back to his partner in crime:

"Lord of Turbines," he murmurs. "We offer praise. Who brings illumination, driving out ignorance? Who drives civilization? Who powers our city, steam, fire, and current?" Pause. "Tell us your name, that we might return to you what is yours, that your wires might live again, that the machines might sing your praise."


The feeling of static in the air continues to build as the charge grows. From the microphone you can hear what sounds like interferance coming through. A faint whine comes from the speaker, must be really bad reception from the otherside. Slowly your hair begins to stand on end. "Who.... summons...." Comes a crackling voice from the microphone. Small metal objects slowly begin to slide to larger ones as the feeling intensifies. Outside you can hear a rumble of thunder.


"I... am.... Arcer." The crackling, staticy voice has the sound of a voice rusted from disuse.

Fuck. Hiro doesn't remember all the right honorifics. He's read too many comic books and not enough hermetic texts. But he's winging it, right? If John Constantine can bind the lord of plagues, he can make a deal with a generator. "The Invisible College seeks barter," he says, quietly. "We wish to return to you the glory that was once yours. Your turbines are full of dust, your wires silent, your home under the sway of foreign current. We would make the city's power lines yours again." Pigboy looks at Penny sidelong - like, do I sound pompous enough? Is this flying?

Totally pompous. Penny gives Hiro a look like he's just in from outerspace "Hello Arcer," fingers twitching til she makes fists on the table, reflexively chatting like it's a regular sort of phonecall "I'm Penny and that's Hiro. We're part of The Invisible College and if you don't have anything better to do, we'd like to invite you to stay with us." She looks up, briefly, to check the status of her hair-on-end "..provided you can find some way to not charge the air around us all the time."


"Ahhh..." The voice comes, carrying the hollow echo of a metal chamber that is empty with the faint crackle of electricity. "The turbines.... they are silent... I... I have been sleeping.... for a long time...." It does, indeed, sound almost like an old man. A confused, sleepy one, but an old man. The thundering outside settles down but the static electricity and magnetism can still be felt in here. "Where... where have the men gone... who shall tend the turbines... who shall check the wires and monitor my gauges..." There is a thunk as the televisions suspended by chains bang against each other.

"Everything is wrong... they left... Home Office... orders. Why will you do this?" It asks, confused tone becoming curiosity.


Hiro's questioning look turns into a frown. He was feeling very Hermetic for a moment. Clears his throat, returning his attention to the ticker. "The.. uhm, details." Pause. "Well, Arcer. They no longer believed in you. They left a long time ago. We do believe in you: we'd like to see you prosper. We've made this place our home, and we'd like you to do what you've always done. We'll help you - we'll give you back the city's wires, turn your turbines back on, repair the place so you can do what you're meant to do. In return, all we want is for you to look after us like you looked after the others. Only we won't abandon you like they did."

Another look with Penny. Under his breath: "That better? Jeeze."

You say, "The price of progress, Arcer" Penny explains further giving Hiro the nod, still convivial - chatty when she's high "the men left when their methods became obsolete. But now we're here. There are seven of us but we're not like the men that left. We can restore you to a purposeful existance," she lowers her voice, eggs on "We can give you a strength they never could. Do you want that?"

"Strength...?" The voice rises in inflection, the word rolls out on the waves of static through the microphone. "Yes... I had strength once... before they left. They abandoned me..." Your hair rises up more now as the spirit becomes more aroused. "More efficient... generation methods... turbines... not worth replacing... operating costs too high..." It recites as if snippets of the past flash back from its memories. "Agghh.... they abandoned Arcer! I served them.... and they broke the covenant!" Everything in the room is charged up now as everything arcs off to everything else. Even yourselves. Not dangerously so... just odd. You can tell it is upset.

Hiro lights a fresh cigarette: hands -- just barely shaking, controlled -- cupped around the tip, cheap dayglo-orange bic flashing butane blue. Flare of the cherry in the ill-lit room. "Arcer," he murmurs, plucking the smoke from between his lips, exhaling with the words. Keep cool. "We ain't interested in efficiency. We're interested in you. Fuck them, man--" So much for formal language and high ritual. "--bottom line hounds, dig? They don't know shit about shit." Pointed jab with his cigarette's tip, to drive the point home. "We're here to make a new deal."

Penny subvocalizes to Piggy "Say something nice to it now." She settles back into her chair and digs around in both pockets of her jacket. Tugging out papers and a dime, she kicks her feet back up and starts the process of rolling again. "Tell it about the parties we throw and what kind of energy we require." She's utterly relaxed, in her element. This is her thing and educating Piggy is the most fun she's had in weeks. "Stay cool, just be cool. hard part's over."

"New... deal.... A new contract." It's voice suddenly surges. "I will re... renegociate with new owners." Arcer finally replies, the static level dropping rapidly so that it's only slightly abnormal in here now instead of Dr. Frankenstein's Lab. "What are the terms...?"

Hiro looks, again, to Penny: she's rolling a joint and he's on his own. He taps ash onto the mouldering pile and leans forward, elbows propped on his knees. "You help us, we help you, Arcer. We make this place run again, we keep it running, we give you access to the greater city." Nova-flare of the cigarette in the flickering light; will-o-wisp trail as the cherry drops. Tobacco and marijuana smoke hang in the air in a haze. "You give us power, you keep us safe, you listen and watch to what happens in your world and keep us posted. It's like..." Pause. "Like a symbiotic relationship."

"Ah..." The crackling voice responds after a long period of silence. "I will... consider this offer..." The voice echoes a bit in the speaker. "Bring me.... bring me copper. I wish to taste fresh copper... five pounds... bring this tomorrow. And I will bring my answer."

...and Hiro, Hiro's grinning like the cat that got the canary. Or the pig that ate the truffle. Or whatever. "You got it Arcer," he answers.

The static feeling is all but gone now. "I will go.... and don't forget... to turn lights off... when you're not using them... don't waste energy..." And then, as it came, so it is gone.

A Job To Do

Old GE Plant - The Invisible Loft

Skylights[1] flank a high, peaked roof, mirrored surfaces reflecting washes of neon and blacklight in mingling pools across the ground below. No natural light reaches this place - it exists independent of the cycles and systems of the world outside, time distorted to the infinite now of a dexedrine binge.
The area is dominated by a circle of seven high-backed chairs[2], surrounding a low coffee table[3]. Twin televisions hang from the roof by heavy iron chains - tilted at an angle to bathe each half of the ring in the warm glow of artificial reality.
Curling womblike around the periphary, the majority of the floor has been sealed off behind an amorphous plastic shell: bulbous and twisted as if exposed to immense heat, with a hue varying from embryotic pinkish-red to mouldy green. Veins of fiber optic cable run through the shell, a circulatory system in pulsating blue and purple. Piles of bedding[4] cling to the walls at irregular intervals. A solitary airlock[5] is the only access to the laboratory without.
Beyond the curving walls, the magic happens. Machinery once found on the factory floor has been reconstructed in bizarre mechanical simulacra[6]. Cabinets and work surfaces bear the dull oxidized finish of refurnished metal - a slick, glossy sheen drawing uncomfortable aesthetic parallels to an animal's organs. Plastic, metal, and glass tubing snake through the whole: an interconnecting network linking the machines.

[Footnoted +views set.]

Contents:

Obvious exits:
Library

Closet Exit

Keene is sitting in his given chair around the coffee table, tapping intently at a PDA. A cigarette idles between his lips as he sets up his schedule for the next several days, taking note of several key lunch meetings.
"I need to find a good dry cleaners," he mumbles to himself, tapping at the sketch area and circling that part of his schedule.

There is a strange little high pitch singing noise in the air before a small, bright purple imp appears near where Keene is sitting. Of course. Messenger imp. Flashy.

The Hermetic pauses in his PDA-tapping when he hears the familiar singing noise. Being trained around Bonsagius magi makes one accustomed to old-fashioned ways of communication. Saving his progress and turning off the PDA, Keene leans forward when he sees the imp.
"Hello," he directs to it, putting the device back within his coat. "how may I help you today?"

"Greetings to you Keene, from Master Bartius of Seattle." The imp bows low to Keene. "Master Bartius sends me to express concerns that he has. An apprentice member of his Chantry came to Erin's Vale to visit family. And she has disappeared here. The good Master suspects that she may be dead for he can not reach her. Could you do Master Bartius a favor, see if you can locate the apprentice?" The imp inquires of Keene

"Of course," says Keene, automatically straightening up when he hears the word `Master' in Bartius' title. "I'll need her file, of course, but I can set to work on finding her right away afterward."

"Very well! She was here for the holiday. There is not too much you should need from us. But here is her file... with picture." The purple imp says, producing a file from thin air, offering it to Keene. "Any help you can provide will be appreciated. You will hold the Master in your dept." The imp bows again and vanishes. A faintly bad smell remains. Stupid imp jokes.