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[Armok]

do so, this kind of thing has to work despite players disappearing.

[jc6036]

Slowly but surely, the fog began to disperse. Oddly enough, several trucks with plain white paint jobs were seen driving away from the scene. . . . TOMORROW: The next day, news stations erupted with information. All across the united states were reports of the major pharmaceutical company, Biogen Pharmecuticals, was putting illegal substances in their drugs. And on top of that, inhumane experiments were being performed upon various human subjects. The headquarters of this company was located in the very city that our characters are in. . . And it was in a panic. Soon, there were orders all across the building to dispose of chemicals and cages. Perhaps the media was not being alarmist, but actually reporting the truth this time. . . . . . .

[Draignean]

Tor woke up on his back.
In a dumpster.

Every joint in his body ached, his eyes itched, and he could feel dried blood gluing part of his shirt to his skin. His knuckles ached from where he'd been holding the lid of the dumpster down in a deathgrip, protecting himself from something he couldn't even remember. No the worst way he'd woken up, but it was certainly up there.

 "Jesus" He muttered, prying his nearly unresponsive hand off the lid, wincing as his knuckles crackled in protest. Twisting his body around he kicked the lid of the dumpster open with his good leg, squinting his eyes against the morning sun. Damn, how long had he been out?

For that matter what the hell had he been doing before he woke up? Bits and pieces were still there, the acrid fog, the monstrosity, the children's voices, running, shooting... Fear... Tor blinked the thoughts away and pulled himself out of the dumpster, hitting the ground solidly and hissing out a breath as his bad leg sent a jolt of pain shrieking through his knee. He was getting too damn old for this shit, waking up in dumpsters and following dead ends into the mist was the work for young men... Tor stopped suddenly, young men. There'd been a kid in the mist, what was his name... Allan? Albert? Alex? Alex. Of course, strange coincidence of fortune that.

Straightening his protesting body Tor made note of what he still had, his revolver was empty, his clothes were torn and bloody in places, his pack was missing a strap and hung lopsided from his right shoulder, and the speedloaders were missing from his coat. Never a good sign. The only thing he'd gained from the red fog was a dozen gray hairs, an ass-kicking, and the name of one person who might know something. Not a great trade.

Tor Sighed and shrugged his pack into a marginally more comfortable position, first things first, he needed to get back to his apartment and change clothes.

---~~~---

Tor's apartment was missing, as was most of the building above the second floor. The smell of char and flame filled the air, fire trucks still idly stationed alongside the black-and-whites, interviewing a group of torn and somewhat smoky looking tenants. Damnit.

His good suit had been up there.

Shaking his head in disgust at the hand that fate had chosen to deal him he approached the tenant he could find that didn't look like they were about to give him bruises for an answer. Considering the amount of stuff he'd lost in the fire he could understand the sentiment.

   "What the hell happened here?" Tor asked the short stocky man he'd singled out from the crowd.
   "Fuckin' explosion..." The man snarled "pigs say the propane tank on the ground floor got hit when someone decided it would be a good fucking idea to start looting when the air went to shit." The stocky man spat on the pavement. "I was in the pisser when it lit, didn't see a goddamn thing..."
   "Damn looters, last thing that could possibly help." Tor said, with as much sympathy as he could muster. He had his doubts on looters, they tended to be the first thing the police would bring up when something bad happened during an event that created mass hysteria. "Got insurance?"
    The Short man swore by way of answer.
    "Me neither... Jesus... Can I borrow a phone man?"  Tor asked, he had his own phone for emergencies but he always preferred using someone else’s phone, you can never be too careful.
    "Yeah sure..." He said absently as he stared at the smoldering building, slipping a thin black cell out of his pocket and handing it to Tor.
    Tor accepted the phone and walked away a couple paces, dialing the number for Mercy hospital's desk. Alex was his only lead, he'd been hurt and scared, if he'd made it out he would undoubtedly have been whisked off to the nearest hospital... A few appropriately posed questions should get him at least a hospital, if not where in said hospital.

((Require GM intervention on whether I can get said information or not))

(((Also, is the burning apartment okay?)))
 

[jc6036]

((Since the apartment was your creation anyways, Draignean, you can do pretty much whatever with it as long as it doesn't grow wings and fly away or something.)) Somebody picked up the phone at the desk of the hospital. "Hello, Mercy Hospital, how can I help you?"

[Draignean]

Hmm, now he needed a name and a lie that wouldn't sound completely ridiculous... Hmm...  "Uh yes, I hope- yes..." Tor stuttered as best he could slurring the words a little on the edges, attempting to sound worried, confused, and a touch concussed. "I'm looking for someone, w-we were in that fog yesterday... I think he might have been hurt"
"What's your name sir?" The receptionist asked calmly.
Tor resisted the urge to snort, like clockwork these people. "What? oh. Hobart, I'm Sam Hobart..."
"And the name of and your relation to the individual you were looking for?"
"His name is Alex, I'm his guidance counselor... He's a good kid, he just hit a rough patch..." Tor mumbled into the phone.
"Physical description?"
"He's about average in height but he's thin, black hair, he's got..." Tor made a quick guess, he couldn't remember exactly whether the kid had green or brown eyes... "green eyes. I think he hurt his shoulder... it's hard to remember."
"We'll put out a bulletin for him, his-"
"Please, that kid's been through hell. I just need a room number so he knows that I haven't abandoned him." Okay, that may have been laying it on a little thick, but sappy worked more often than cold. "Please?"

 

[jc6036]

"Sir, if you would just come up to the hospital to prove your identity, we would be more than happy to help you. All I can do at this time is confirm that he is here."

[Draignean]

"Sir, if you would just come up to the hospital to prove your identity, we would be more than happy to help you. All I can do at this time is confirm that he is here."

   "Thank you so much, I'll be over shortly." Tor said and flipped the phone shut. Narrowing it down to one building put this firmly in the realm of possibility. Walking back over to the man enraptured by the morbid sight of his burning apartment he handed the phone back and tipped his head. "Thanks friend, keep the faith."
   "Fuck faith..." The other man murmered as he accepted the phone.
   Tor smiled darkly, he couldn't say he disagreed with the man.

Tor walked away, searching for any building with a public bathroom where he could change clothes and make a few other calls. He needed to get to that hospital before they shifted Alex out, but he certainly couldn't get in looking like a bum.

((Placeholder action until comeone else does something, we shall assume that my dude is changing clothes and sponge bathing for the moment.))

[Powder Miner]

Alex winced as he touched the bandages on his back- they'd basically cleaned, stitched, and dressed the wound and that was all they could do besides tell him to get a night of rest- and yes, he got a few painful hours of rest, but he was feeling quite short of good. They'd at least let him walk around, and let him watch the news. It seemed some drug company had been doing some crap with illegal chemicals and some experiments, and he would bet five dollars they were at the heart of the whole fog problem. He'd heard reports of building damage, and he hadn't seen his own apartment yet, either, unfortunately.

    He also had an unfortunate feeling that the white vans driving out had something to do with experiments or mutants. D***.

[The Fool]

Henry walked home from the incident while thoughts ran through his head. Who would create such a dangerous gas? Clearly he was hallucinating at the time, but the other person he was with saw the deformed figure that vaguely resembled his ex. It was a shame that he never did catch the other persons name, but he was terrible with names anyways. He would have to look into this event and find some answers, anything at all. The recoil on the prototypes is also far too great, maybe a smaller less complicated weapon would be better for carrying around. He finally reached his apartment block, headed through the rather plain lobby, and up to his apartment.

"ALM, do a search for companies that have made an iron based hallucinogen in the last two years. Avoid trying encrypted servers until I'm in the computer room."

"Searching... 26 results found."

"How many different companies?"

"Twenty six."

"..." He thought for a moment, "I'll be there in a second." There goes my night.

Unstrapping the guns was a relief, they were heavy and now his arms felt like feathers in comparison. He should have realized the recoil would be too strong, but he had no place to test his new designs quietly. He put the prototypes in a hollow spot in his gun safe under the stairs. The only other thing in the safe was an Atlus Arms .45 and a .40. He couldn't handle a rifle to save his life, so he never bought one. He finished depositing his guns in the storage and headed for the computer room.

It took all night to get through all 26 company firewalls, but he found something. Biogen Pharmaceuticals held the patent on the chemical, but stated to the shareholders that they weren't going to produce it, because of the dangers, but sure enough someone must have green lighted it. He would have to pay the company a visit if he could find a way in. ALM came in over the speakers.

"Biogen Pharmaceuticals is being mentioned on channel 4... channel 8... chann-"

"Put one of them on the top right monitor."

His plans to investigate were brought down with the news. The media was hording the gate, so I'm sure that whatever evidence there was is long gone. Maybe he can find the person he was with yesterday. I really wish that I asked for a name. Oh well. Back to the search.

"ALM, attack the firewall using the executables in the 'good' folder on the hospital nearest the red fog. Bring up a list of recent patients with back lacerations if you can."

[adwarf]

Zack nolted staight up, and barely caught himself as he fell out of the hospital bed. He pushed himself up, and saw a nurse walk in who said "It's okay Mr. Rainer you are free to go, but please be careful from your Medical Record we see that you are prone to repeating, and very serious Migranes. If you have any more problems scome back, and we will see what we can do." Zack quickly dresses after the Nurse leaves the room, and begins walking back to his apartment.

Three Hours Later

Zack finally arrives back at his apartment, and unlocks the door, slamming it behind him. He walks over to his bed, and throws his hoodie onto it before plopping down into his computer chair. He remembers the incident yesterday vividly, and the man he saw in the fog seemed familiar as if he had saw him somewhere. Zack began looking through his newspaper collection, and through the internet looking for information on the man.

[Draignean]

   Tor had changed clothes, his coat and shirt had been replaced by a button-up polo and a vest, a pair of glasses (useless pieces of clear plastic) adorned his face, and his slacks were now a slightly worn brown color instead the shredded black ones. Regrettably the vest and polo offered no place to hang his shoulder holster and remain concealed, so the empty weapon went back in his bag.

   To make this work he'd need a few items, items which he was in the purpose of buying at a christian bookstore. 50 cheap paper condolence cards that told people to be strong, an 'I-❤-Jesus' pen, one plastic cross necklace, and a pin-on cross for his vest. The clerk smiled at him cheerfully after he explained that he was going to be handing out the cards at the hospital, gifts to the recently injured to show that God cared in times of strife. Strange how lies and truths could blend so easily when put under the right light, especially since that was exactly what he was about to do, hand out Faith cards.

   Granted he was only doing it to get past security and to have a legit reason to see the patients, but honestly, did the normal teenage cretins that usually did this for a church care any more?

---~~~---

   Mercy hospital was old, old enough that it had burned partially down five times, been ransacked by a mob twice, and accidentally been half-way demolished once. It had however been rebuilt to code and beyond under this governor's last stint, shining glass fronts, well cared for brick walls, modern interior, and Tor noted, amazing AC. He sat in a waiting room chair, taking up space and trying to look serene until the Head nurse got a moment of time to see him. Things were busy after the incident though and there was no telling when she/he would be able to spare time for someone. As it turned out however she arrived in time to interrupt his musing about how long it would take for her to arrive.

   She was blond and of average height but of a far greater than average width across the shoulders for a woman, she stared at Tor for a moment as if to assess whether he was worth spending time on. "Nurse Butch." She said, shaking Tor's hand surprisingly delicately. "What do you need?"
   Tor noted the absence of "good morning" or "what can I do for you", the woman was in a hurry, and with luck would be just as quick to get him gone and out of her hair. "I'm Emmanuel Boren with the Methodist ministry, I'm here to give condolences and cards to the people at the accident site. I don't need to talk to them or disturb them, I just want to let them know that God cares." Tor explained, smiling compassionately at the woman.
   She grimaced, he was -as he had hoped- and expected but not entirely unwelcome event. People were relatively unlikely to turn down a guy who just wanted to give out care cards. "Fine, but don't disturb anyone. If you enter and they're asleep, they better be asleep when you leave. Clear?"
"Yes ma'am" Tor said "I will be discreet as I am able. The church thanks you for your kindness."


Now all he had to do was wander through the injured delivering envelopes until he found Alex. Then maybe, just maybe, he could start to find a few answers.

((Either set up for you powder or I'll find you asleep later and drop a card.))

[The Fool]

It was almost noon, but time was less apparent in the computer room, especially when you don't leave the room. He was tired, which was nothing new, but at least he finished hacking Mercy Hospital's computer system. The firewall was easy enough to bypass and within moments ALM brought up the list of people with back lacerations, there were two, and one was an older lady. The liquid coolant bubbled as if in delight. It had to be Zack Rainer. He would have called the hospital, but the patient list said that he already left several hours ago. Holy crap. Already!? That can't be right. He grabbed a phone book from the kitchen and looked for Rainer Z, and sure enough there was the number. He dialed the number.

((adwarf, your character finds a two and a half year old news article about the world's youngest physicist at the age of 20. There is a picture of Henry MacShadon in his graduation gown and cap holding a doctorate degree. His PhD paper was on sub-orbital projectiles. Zack should be able to find this article before the call if I guessed the timeline right. Henry's phone number is unlisted.))

((To eliminate back and forth on the phone call he's going to ask if he could discuss the red fog at the somewhat nearby coffee shop.))

[Armok]

(I think I'm leaving the game, mainly because it consists entirely of giant utterly boring walls of text. )

[The Fool]

((Sadly I feel the same way. Intrigue and mystery are nice when something dangerous may happen to your character. Sadly this seems more like a social freeform game with background events that the player can see, but never influence. I think I might be tempted to leave as well since we already have very few characters still around. I'll see how this plays out. If this ever gets restarted I'd have the Agency more in your face and obvious with some undercover members. It would be more interesting.))

[Draignean]

((We're getting nowhere slowly indeed, the problem is that there is too much freedom and too little chance... I'm a fair hand at making rulesets and I'm pretty damn sure I could adapt a system to suit in only a day or two, we wouldn't even have to start over. Everything up to this point could be considered a prelude just with updated stats, rules, and all that could junk. You guys and gals* game?))

((Yeah, no women on the internet, I know.))

((Also, if people are game you'd need to select what type of dice to use as the primary. [D6, D8, D20, or D100]))