Difference between revisions of "2020-10-19: Web of Horrors: Chapter 2C: Genre Genderbending: Crossdressing at Crystal Lake"
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|icdate = October 19, 2020 | |icdate = October 19, 2020 | ||
|ictime = afternoon | |ictime = afternoon | ||
− | |players = [[Rufus]], [[Vic Rasmussen]], and [[Vivian]] (ST) | + | |players = [[Rufus]], [[Vic Rasmussen]], and [[Vivian Starr]] (ST) |
|location = The Nexus, [[Digital Web|The Digital Web]] | |location = The Nexus, [[Digital Web|The Digital Web]] | ||
|prptp = [[Plot: Web of Horrors|Web of Horrors]] | |prptp = [[Plot: Web of Horrors|Web of Horrors]] | ||
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− | [[Category:Logs]][[Category:Plot:_Web_of_Horrors]][[Category:Rufus]][[Category:Vic Rasmussen]][[Category:Vivian]] | + | [[Category:Logs]][[Category:Plot:_Web_of_Horrors]][[Category:Rufus]][[Category:Vic Rasmussen]][[Category:Vivian Starr]] |
Once more in that sparsely formatted Sector at the edge of the corruption slowly eating through the Prospect subnet, set up by the unknown benefactor. Blue lines of data streak across the endless sky, providing the starlit backdrop to the sector and the round, Victorian textured table with the several plush extra-comfy chairs. The chaotic mess of the spreading corruption looms ominously in the otherwise beautiful expanse. | Once more in that sparsely formatted Sector at the edge of the corruption slowly eating through the Prospect subnet, set up by the unknown benefactor. Blue lines of data streak across the endless sky, providing the starlit backdrop to the sector and the round, Victorian textured table with the several plush extra-comfy chairs. The chaotic mess of the spreading corruption looms ominously in the otherwise beautiful expanse. |
Latest revision as of 14:46, 3 September 2024
Genre Genderbending: Crossdressing at Crystal Lake | |
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Rufus and Vic dive into the Digital Web to investigate a corrupted sector with a Friday the 13th theme! | |
IC Date | October 19, 2020 |
IC Time | afternoon |
Players | Rufus, Vic Rasmussen, and Vivian Starr (ST) |
Location | The Nexus, The Digital Web |
Prp/Tp | Web of Horrors |
Spheres | Mage |
Once more in that sparsely formatted Sector at the edge of the corruption slowly eating through the Prospect subnet, set up by the unknown benefactor. Blue lines of data streak across the endless sky, providing the starlit backdrop to the sector and the round, Victorian textured table with the several plush extra-comfy chairs. The chaotic mess of the spreading corruption looms ominously in the otherwise beautiful expanse.
Having decided that she needs to check out these corrupted sectors herself, Vic has headed to the Nexus with a carryall hung over her shoulder opposite the one her normal bag is hanging from. En route, she sends Rufus a message confirming her interest so he know she'll be joining him and, after arriving, she starts setting up her new VR rig.%r%rStep One: Errect the suspension frame and make sure it is situated well in an otherwise empty corner of the computer lab.%r%rStep Two: Setup her laptop on a nearby table and turn on its webcam.%r%rStep Three: Strip down to a sports bra and spandex bike shorts and then pull on the skin-tight body suit that has embedded circuitry built into it.%r%rStep Four: Put on the harness that will later be connected to the suspension frame.%r%rStep Five: Prepare the headset and put on the vocal pickup.%r%rAnd now, as ready as she can be, Vic waits for Rufus to arrive and fiddles with the settings of her new VR Rig the way Astra showed her to for this first test run.
Rufus comes into the Nexus with his portable VR gear. Not as big or glamorous as Vic's setup, but it's portable. It does it's job for the slimness of the rig: A trinary deck in a portable housing with connected haptic gloves and visor. Instead of a suit the visor sends haptic feedback to the brain, hence the portability. "Hey Vic." He says, setting the rig down and finding a place to settle in while jacked in.
"Hey there, Rufus," Vic says as she turns to look at him. "New gear, Astra felt it was ready for its first field test," she explains as she hooks the harness up to the suspension rig and then reaches up to tighten the bar, ratcheting herself inches off the floor and causing the frame to flex ever-so slightly as it adjusts to support the weight. Next she pulls the VR goggles Astra set up over her head and rests them against her forehead. "I'm to follow you in right away I assume?" she asks.
Rufus finds a comfortable chair and hops down into it. "We'll head to the periphery hub first. Get some recon before we dive in. No sense diving blind. Since whoever is causing this mess knows they've been tagged we'll need to be careful. I'll data scramble us before we go in. That way we can't be probed like we were in frankenville." He says. He aligns the rig and then gets comfortable. "also make sure we maximize our chance of success. No sense going half-cocked on this one." He advises. "Once we go in you can take point. Your beefier than I am and I can back you up as needed and keep an eye on your backside." He looks over. "Fair?"
Looking down at her slim figure, Vic takes a mock offended tone as she asks, "Beefier? This?" with a grin to show she is just kidding. "Also, so you know, I think I've leveled up, Rufus, so I may be even beefier than you think," she says, showing that she agrees to the play.
Rufus looks over at Vic's...er...figure. Yes. Because that is what she is showing off right? RIGHT? "Yup. Beefier." He nods confirming. When she says she thinks she has leveled up he rolls his eyes. "Hey! Don't rub it in now! Take the compliment!" He shakes his head. "Damn." He puts on the visor. "You ready?" He dials in the code to access the web, back where he jumped to prior to Frakenville.
Vic lowers her VR goggles in place and slips the accompanying earphones into place. She triggers the connection of the rig to her laptop and dives into the D-Web also, making sure once she is there to open up a window to her laptop's webcam - the laptop positioned in such a way that it would give her a straight shot towards the computer lab's entrance and a nearly complete view of the entire lab itself.
Once more in that sparsely formatted Sector at the edge of the corruption slowly eating through the Prospect subnet, set up by the unknown benefactor. Blue lines of data streak across the endless sky, providing the starlit backdrop to the sector and the round, Victorian textured table with the several plush extra-comfy chairs. The chaotic mess of the spreading corruption looms ominously in the otherwise beautiful expanse.
Rufus *ZAPS* in to the familiar terrain, looking around and once Vic arrives, he turns his forearm and a holo-keyboard emerges. "So we went through these." He gestures to the other sectors. "So that means...we haven't messed with these two yet. "Let me run a simulation, see what would happen." He inputs the Conduit IP for the locations and runs a probe prog. (Sorry, revised the spell: Corr 2 (to peek inside), Forces 1/Mind 1/Prime 1 (The three together, I think, would be enough to observe what rules may exist in the realm).
an3ris *rezzes* quietly into the sector next to Rufus' icon. Unless there is an aspect of his Icon that overrides this, hers is noticably (but not freakishly so) taller than his. She looks around, her hair flowing with data (meaningful? not likely yet) and takes in the view of the sector.
Rufus finishes the scan of Sector 5 and blinks at the arrangement. "..your fucking kidding me." He says, tapping a few keys to make sure he is reading everything right. He looks to Vic. "Hope you got your wit enhancer on." He gives the lowdown.%r%r"So the sector is a campground. Looks like there is a mind effect that effects all Icons inside. All correspondence use is vulgar, save for one denizen of the server who can use it at will." He looks to Vic. "It's fucking Jason." He says. "Let me run some sims. You wanna cover us for the mind effect?"
"Correspondence eh," an3ris says. "Wonder if Data will make a diffeernce. Can you tell, or should I try to determine?" She also asks, "Any chance I can go in as I can or do I need to cosmetic my appearance to match its rules?"
Rufus shakes his head. "It won't work." In regards to Data. "If I can hazard a prediction...this is Friday the 13th basically." He doesn't know if Vic knows pop culture in her world, so as he calculates some probable scenarios he explains. "Jason's a slasher. Big beefy guy with a hockey mask and a machete. Like any good slasher, Jason pops in and out wherever, can cover distances no one in their right mind can and can poof as easily as he appears. It's probably why he's the only one who can Corr at will. So it's basically a simulation of what it would be like being Jason's victims." He predicts. "We dont know where he is, can't figure out WHERE he is and cant escape. We have to deal with him somehow."
"Also." Rufus says to Vic. "Don't get hurt. Healing is against the rules of the sector. And something tells me Jason's machete is not going to like us very much."
an3ris nods. "Any rules against us having protective gear and weapons that you're aware of?" Vic asks as she mentally prepares to adjust her icon to match what she understands the rules of the sector to be.
Rufus shakes his head. "Not that I've seen. Only rules I found is what is forbidden and Jason has every ace up his sleeve." He looks to Vic. "I'd say give it a shot. Otherwise we'll need to be sneaky moving around as we try ot figure out where the corruption code is originating from."
After thinking about it for a brief bit, an3ris causes her appearance to shift and she transforms. She now looks like Sarah Conner from the Terminator... if Sarah's job was a camp councelor rather than a waitress. "Okay, so, appearance check," she says after looking over herself as much as she can. "Kevlar vests and.... do you want shotguns or machettees or both, Rufus?" she asks.
Rufus recodes himself to look like...well...himself. Save he is wearing jeans, a white shirt under a flannel shirt, a jacket, and probably 1 too many rolls of weed. His miscolored eyes look at Vic and arches a brow at the Kevlar. Well. Alrighty then. "Machete. I suck at fighting, but suck less with weapons than guns."
an3ris spends about an hour whipping up the code for armor vests (OOC: all body protection, his protects for 4 points and her's for 5), a shotgun with an accompanying ammo bandoleer (OOC: 3L damage) and a machette with a microfillament edge (OOC: 4L damage).
Rufus and Vic spend the next hour coding. Vic makes the gear, Rufus sets the system alert. After he is finished he downloads a patch for Vic to take %(The entropy effect%) and basically cues her on the bad decisions NOT to make %(therefore the better chance of succeeding, see how Entropy works!%). Afterwards Rufus is coding on the fly a Jason ping to let them know Machete Man is up to some shenanigans, which is tapped to Vic through an icon now on her display that reads 0 - Jason and turns !! - Jason if Jason Corr poofs nearby.%r%rRufus straps on the kevlar, takes the machete and straps it to his leg %(where did the strap come from?? Oh right. Digital Web%) and looks like Rufus is going to camp murderface. Which is funny, as he has neither the build nor the stamina to last there. But such is life. "Alright. I'll fill you in on the pop culture while we're inside." He says, hopping the Conduit and poofing to Camp Crystal...er...Sleepy Turkey."
an3ris-Sarah also straps on the armor and then slings the bandoleer over her shoulder and pumps the shotgun before slipping it into a back shotgun holster (again gotta love the DWeb). "Please, the Friday the 13th movies were outlawed when I was a toddler... apparently the title is a reference to mythology that the Unionists in the Fed wanted to get forgotten so suppressing it was their way of adjusting it away," she explains as she follows Rufus.
This seems to be some kind of campground surrounding a lake, a curved sign over a wide wooden entrance proclaiming: "Camp Sleepy Turkey." Dotted around the lake are a multitude of small piers, each housing one or two boats; some are fairly large multi-crewed sailing boats, others just tiny motorboats. A number of log cabins are arranged around the placid waters, each one small but well-cared for with power lines daisy-chained across the roofs. A gravel path connects each cabin on the side facing away from the lake, snaking along in a lazy matter around the circumference. Further back from the path is a seemingly endless, dense forest comprised of tree species most familiar to the Pacific North West.
Rufus takes a moment to look around the campground. "So. Jason. Nigh unstoppable wrecking machine. Three minute spoiler, kid dies while camp counselors are fucking and comes back with a serious hard on for killing teenagers. If we're lucky, Jason will be wearing a bag over his head. If it is, then it's his Mom. Dealable. If he's wearing a hockey mask? Then it's the Big Bad Jason. Impossible to kill, unstoppable, stronger than any HIT Mark and will usually gack you with one hit." He says. "Jason isn't above traps and shit either. He doesn't care if you get electrocuted from him cutting power lines and frying you in the bathtub or decapitating you. Ways to fuck with him? He's got a mom complex. Find some of his mom's stuff and we can get in his head." He points to the lake. "That's where he comes from. We can chain him up and drop him into the lake. or, we can actually try killing him." And that, is the very abridged version.%r%rBut they ain't here for Jason. They are here for the corrupted code. "We should be pretty safe during daytime, so let's use this time to get our bearings and find some clues to the corrupted code. If we're with people he won't show. Once nightfall comes we're fucked. So best get a move on."
"So, the Anti-Tick," Saran3ris asks, "Mixed in with a bit of Norman Bates also I guess?" She has pop-culture overlaps, just there are gaps in the mix. "Wish I could just open up Data senses and home in on the code issues, but that's out of the question," she adds as she walks along though the camp with Rufus, scanning around her as she doesn't trust the environment any further than she could kick a car in meatspace.
Something tingles at those senses beyond senses that Mages have. There is the definite feel of something peering at your data, stripping away the outer shell and examining the core of you. Cold and unyielding, stark like a camera, the feeling is like a slippery and slick oozing down your spine.
Rufus gets the shakes. He shivers even, rubbing his hands over his arms as they closer to the water. Why are they here again? This was a dumb idea. His miscolored eyes flicker to the woods, cuz he's ALWAYS in the woods, then to the cabin...with the comfy beds..and Vic...Vic. When the familiar sensation comes over Rufus he grumbles. "Dammit...it's happening again. We're being scanned." He looks to Vic. "Can you take the hit for the team? I can't handle much more overclocking (Ie, I have 1 slot left for a standing rote)." He looks around. "So in the Frakenville the jist was the same as the movies. The corruption code was anchored inside the play itself. It might be the same here. We just need to find where the node is where the corruption is coming from." He looks at himself. .... .... SHIT. He coded away his access board! "FUCK." He says. "I hate life." He looks to Vic. "So ugh...how you' doin?"
an3ris's appearance as Sarah Connor, camp councelor, goes semi-translucent and Vic's face superimposes itself beneath the mask for a moment as she, too, reacts to the creepy feeling. "I'm running pretty hot also, Arr," she says with a slight sigh, "But sure... what are you thinking I should do specifically?"
Rufus says. "Well the last time I felt that a corr ward blocked it. I'd need to reboot so I can get access to my interface again." He shows his arm, the no-longer data-powered one, and shows that nothing happens when. "I can scan for the corrupted code though. Get us a head start. Should be able to do that." He says.
With a nod an3ris agrees and focuses her will and aome "Juice" on creating a protective field of Data around herself and Rufus, focusing the extra power she gets from the effect on her ally this time rather than herself. There's a slight shimmer of pale green energy that forms around them, flickering slightly - if one were to truly concentrate on it faint numbers (all 1s and 0s) can be seen flowing downwards on the virtual "surface" of the fields - it is pale enough to not provide a lick of additional lighting but it tints their skin faintly green.
The slick, cold oozing presence abates on the two VAs when Vic completes her manipulation. Somewhat strangely, what used to be daylight has suddenly become dusk, an orange glow now filtering through the trees as elongated shadows crawl along the ground. But surely it's purely coincidence the sun went down as soon as the watching presence was blocked?
As Vic protects them, Rufus looks around and tries to find some sort of admin building. ANYTHING with a computer or access to the web, even if internal. Since there isn't....Rufus lets out a breath. "Shit." And he tries to do it with raw, supernatural power. He knows the DW is nothing but nodes and information and data, /everything/ is nodes and information and data. He has no way of highlighting it to his wee senses, so instead he forces himself, through sheer effort and moxie, to see the interconnections of information and datastreams that make up the world around him anyway. Enough that he sweats.
Rufus looks around now with new eyes, and notices the green sheen that Vic has erected. "...Sick." He says, letting out a breath. He's winded. "...And it's gone now..." He looks around at the area, leaning in and giving Vic a hug. A too /comfy/ hug. "Thanks, Vic." He says. His eyebrow arches and he snaps attention to the woods. "....That way." He points off. "The node feeding the corrupted node." (added after roll results).
an3ris accepts the hug with a bit of surprise and smiles at Rufus' reaction to her ward. "Then that away is our heading, o'Captain my Captain," she says and begins heading the indicated direction. But with the nightfall out comes the shotgun, sure she's affected by nightfall also... just trying to hide it.
The walk is initially uneventful, only the skittering of forest critters, the squeak of insects, the flap of wings, or the hoot of an owl marring the quiet of the wood. It's definitely quiet. Too quiet. And dark. The low light and the forest canopy combine to make hiking through the underbrush a bit treacherous; one never knows when an inconvenient root or branch will turn an ankle.
But what catches the pair's feet is not a root or branch, but some sort of line. There's a short feeling of resistance ankle-height followed by a sharp *twang*. A crude but definitely dangerous board with spikes in it springs out of the underbrush at just the right height to cause serious leg damage. Fortunately, both of our intrepid Netrunners are deft enough to avoid the trap -- Rufus somewhat more awkwardly than Vic -- and it thuds into a nearby tree trunk with enough force to bury the tips of the spikes a good way into the wood. A close inspection of the spikes reveals that they glint oddly in the deepening twilight; they're not metal or plant material, but rather teeth and bone.
Rufus hiking through the woods is not a thing. *crunch crunch crunch* he goes through the woods and once he feels that cord-like resistance on his ankle he thinks 'Shit' and says "Shit", moving out of the way in time to avoid the spiked board. He falls back onto his ass, and him falling back is really what saved him here - not really grace or athleticism. "Well...traps mean we're on the right track."
Vic's dodge was more of a duck and roll ending with her crouched on the opposite side of the path from Rufus. She grimaces in sympathy for Rufus (and hopes that the often humorously added third itteration didn't happen because this sector's just relistic that it might have). After scanning the path and saying, "Yeah, lovely," about his optimistic assessment, she stands and steps over to her companion and holds out one hand while bracing the shotgun held by the other against her shoulder. "Want help up?" she asks.
Rufus has no shame. He accepts the help. "Thanks." He takes Vic's hand and lifts himself up. He looks around and INVENTORY -> MACHETE -> EQUIP. Aka. He takes his machete out of the holster on his leg. "...I might know where we're going but...I can't be too sure." He looks over at Vic. He brushes some leaves and dirt off of his ass. "I'm good. Let's keep going."
Nodding, Vic says, "As long as one of us has a clue I think we'll be alright," and sweeps her gaze along the path ahead of them again to see if she can detect any other nearby traps. She then just shakes her head and wishes her vision enhancement devices translated to the D-Web.
Several arduous minutes of hiking later (during which an3ris notices several different traps -- more tripwires as well as bear traps and pitfalls), the pair scent the smell of cooking meat on the wind. The scent continues to strengthen as they go along before a faint orange glow can be picked out from the trees, visibility helped by the now full night fallen over the area. Eventually, they come across a clearing in the woods. This appears to be some kind of campsite. There's a fire going in a pit and the cast iron pan set across the flames are the source of the smell -- it's bacon and sausage sizzling away inside. Surrounding the pit are several fold-out chairs and a large cooler with the lid open; beer can be seen sitting inside. There's also a small table with a suspicious ziploc baggie with what is undoubtedly weed, some hoagie rolls, and a couple of cans of beans. There is also a domed cloth tent setup a short distance away, a comfy-looking sleeping bag set up inside. Strangely, however, there is no indication of any people around.
Rufus looks around at the campside and then yawns. "oooooh man." He says, resting a hand on Vic's shoulder. "Looks like the Web is giving us a helping hand." He says approaching the campsite. "You know....let's take a break." He says, plopping down on one of the chairs. "We're always runnin' around trying to save the world and shit, we never get any R&R time! Like...you and me R&R time!" He leans over and pulls out a ziploc bag from his pocket (WHERE DID THAT COME FROM?!) and waggles it. "Got some special treeeeeaaaatttss." He says, as he starts to collect some food.
Vic frowns at Rufus and takes a half step back, pulling her shoulder out from under his hand. "What the hell has gotten into you, Rufus?" she snaps at him and then, of course... She takes a moment to concentrate and opens her Prime senses to examine the area and her companion to try to discern exactly what is going on here.
There is definitely an ongoing magickal effect on Rufus. It's a Mind effect and buried quite deeply; trying to extract or block it will be very difficult indeed. Fortunately, it seems tied to the Sector, so when he leaves it will no longer affect him, but while he's here it's active -- and will likely /keep/ being active every time he returns. Suddenly, an ominous sound begins to fill the air: *ch ch ch ah ah ah ah*. Yes, that's right, Rufus' Jason detector seems to be going off.
Rufus gives a Vic. "I'm just saying! We're knee deep in all of our projects and stuff, nothing wrong with taking 5 and catching up right?" He opens the ziploc bag and pulls out a joint, putting it between his lips and lighting it. "Look. We got the Jason alarm, we'll know if he shows up. The corruption code is right down that way," He gestures where he sees it coming from. "We're on the right track! Nothing wrong with a short rest right?" He looks at the tent, then looks at Vic. "Not like -legit- rest. Don't wanna be here all night. Jason will definately kill us if we have sex, but five minutes never hurt anyone right?" He pulls out a bic (WHERE IS HE GETTING THIS STUFF FROM??) and lights his joint, taking in a firm inhale and exhale. "You know...I like weed." He says, leaning back on the chair. "People just think I'm a big huge stoner. But...being social is hard. Like..it overclocks me. If it wasn't for weed I'd probably spaz out on people. And usually people don't have anything nice to say. Makes it easier to ignore them when they turn on the verbal meat-grinder you know?"
*ch ch ch ch ah ah ah ah*
Rufus snaps to attention. He looks at his weed. "FUCK!" He tosses the joint into the campfire. "I HATE THIS FUCKING CAMP." He says, getting to his feet and taking his machete.
Vic looked like she was preparing herself for slapping Rufus silly to attempt to knock the goofy quasi-Shaggy behavior out of him. She even started to pull back her free hand when...
*ch ch ch ch ah ah ah ah*
Vic sighs and turns so that her back is to Rufus counting on him to keep an eye on the direction coming from the direction she isn't facing. "Finally, it looked like you were ready to literally set up in this one," she tells him as she tries to see where the killer is coming from.
Rufus looks around, keeping an eye on Vic's tail. "We need to get moving. Not trying to say we get magic protection story-wise if we're running but this is usually the part where Jason starts rigging our murder." He points out to Vic. "Getting away from him is our best option." He steps backward. "I say we make a break for the corruption node. We can deal with Jason there and figure out how we can rever...." He frowns. "What's that smell?" He looks down. His shoe and his pant leg are on fire. "THE FUCK!?" He stop, drops and rolls. "I FUCKING HATE THIS CAMP."
Despite the ominous sound filling the area from Rufus' Jason Detector, the darkened woods around the pair seems quiet. Too quiet, actually; the sound of insects and nocturnal animals has ceased entirely and the only other sounds are the crackle of the fire, the sizzle of meat, and the faint rustle of wind through the leaves of the tree. But then a flicker of the flame of the fire rises to just the right height and a glint of plastic can be seen just briefly by an3ris -- and that leads to seeing the huge, hulking figure just beyond the treeline. Clad in a dirty dark green jumpsuit and boots, the massive monster stands with it's shoulders and feet apart, a statue of barely moving muscle and menace. He is, indeed, wearing a hockey mask and is armed with a long machette -- impossibly long, it's more like a sword, but given his stance and supposed strength, it's weilded more like the crude easy-to-use farmer's weapon.
Vic, having to fight laughing at the thought that Rufus stepped /into/ the fire (because that's just not a nice thing), says nothing at first. As he drops and rolls she grabs one of the sleeping bags after sheathing the shotgun and flaps it up and down on him in an attempt to further smother the flames while at the same time continuing to look around them.
That is when she sees it... him... The hockey mask first. Then the machetti.
The sleeping bag is dropped and she reaches again for the shotgun, drawing it out perhaps not fast enough to actual shoot the attacker but, perhaps, fast enough to use it to parry if she's attacked too quickly.
Moving faster than she'd expected (digital reflexes being soooo much better than physical reflexes), Vic levels the shotgun in Jason's direction and pulls the trigger. *BAM!*
Perhaps he's surprised at being noticed. Perhaps he doesn't really care for speed. Either way, the hulking figure remains frozen like a statue as Vic levels and fires the shotgun -- but the shot goes wide and ends up missing the target by a large margin. With a moment of confused nonchalance, the brute turns slightly to regard the area peppered with buckshot then turns back to regard the pair before beginning to walk forward. Unhurried, the figure moves through the underbrush with long, methodical steps, the bulk of the man surprisingly nimble for such a lumbering behemoth. In quick order, he has met up with Vic and raises the massive sword-machete thing for a strike... ... And hits! The hit is simple and brutal, hardly anything martial artistry about it. It's just a hit of pure, raw, vicious strength. The machete slices down at an angle at Vic from her left shoulder down to her right hip; it's a good thing that she made that armor as it absorbs a chunk of the damage. Still, it's not quite enough to stop it all and her virtual flesh is split, sending a gout of red liquid spilling out from her shoulder. The digital t-shirt begins to be stained with red as the blood seeps from the wound and wets the cloth around it.
Rufus is too busy putting the fire out! Though the sudden tread of Jason makes him go 'Shit!' and stop, drop, and roll away from the beast. But at least now Rufus can help!...ugh...Somehow! Cuz that's the power of friendship.
"Aaaaarg!" Vic cries out in pai as she's cut though the armor.
Other-Vic, watching the camera into the Nexus' Computer Lab as well as the actions though Vic's eyes comments, "Thank Lovelace you're there and I'm here," while still managing to sound a bit bored by the task she's been put to.
Rufus gets to his feet. Tada! How best to help Vic! Rufus isn't a fighter. But he has a tactical mind, and Jason is not someone you fight face to face. Every movie taught him that. If you fight Jason, you -prepare- for Jason, not go toe to toe with him. "Vic!" He tries to get her attention. He points to the corruption node with his machete. "We can't stand toe to toe! We gotta move! Let's get out of here!"
She doesn't immediately turn away from the towering machette-murderer but Vic agrees with a nod and says, "You know where it is, lead the way," and - hopefully with Rufus - starts to run in the direction he leads them in.
The hulking figure makes another slash at Vic, but fortunately the VA from another dimension is already on the run and the swipe misses. The brute stands mutely in the campsite clearing, the firelight from the pit casting one side of him in the dim light and the other in deep shadow, the empty pits of the hockey mask watching the pair scatter into the woods. It's only after they reach the treeline that he begins his pursuit -- calm, patient, seemingly slow and utterly monotonous steps -- pure inevitability given form.
There's not time to pick carefully through the underbrush and the dark nighttime does not help looking where one is stepping. And poor Rufus really does put his foot in it. There is a sensation of a short fall -- like taking a flight of stairs that are a bit too steep -- and then a metallic twang and sickening crunch followed by pain. The sharp-toothed rusty jaws of a bear trap clamp around the VA's leg, drawing a bit of blood, but fortunately the armor seems to shield a lot of the damage. Another tripwire is sprung by Vic, but fortunately she manages to dodge out of the way this time as well -- but with considerably less aplomb and grace than last time.
Poor Rufus. It's not his day. Now he's running. Running! From Jason, with Vic, who he is pretty sure he just tried to sleep with, running in the woods, that he doesn't know how to navigate, from an incarnation of raw, unfiltered murder. And he has had a bad go of this whole thing let's be honest. He coded off his interface, he got compulsed to kicking back in a campsite, he -stepped- into a firepit. And now there's a bear trap on his leg. And it doesn't even hurt that much! It's more as if the scenario is going 'hey rufus...you /really/ suck.'. "OW!" Rufus hisses, looking down at the bear trap that is gnawing, partially, into his leg. He looks over and grabs a branch, and with a bit of geometric know-how, leverages the bear trap off of him quicker than someone else might, and continues to move.
Poor Rufus!? If there was a metaphorical audience beyond Other-Vic they'd likely be thinking the same thing... Poor Vic who's digital form is still bleeding from the machette gash running down her side. Sounding as pained as the cut would make a person feel she should be, Vic says, "Where is the center of the corruption, Arr?!" with both aggrivation and maybe a little despiration in her voice as well.
The Prime signal is definitely stronger, so the pair -is- getting closer, though without Correspondence it's difficult to tell exactly how far. The disorientating effect of the dark woods probably doesn't help either. Still, Rufus can tell that they are moving in the right direction.
Rufus once more has to push his perception to the Nth degree. With no tools to help articulate the Higher Order Domains he has to internally do it. The cognitive power that takes? Makes him sweat, and by the end of it Rufus is utterly drained. Exhausted. He looks around and notices the hidden power nodes of the sever fueling the server and the simulation. "We're going in the right direction but keep your eyes peeled. We're getting close, but I can't pinpoint it." He says, now slowing into a jog.
Continuing through the unceasing woods for a bit more, the pair encounter another set of traps. Fortunately for Rufus, this time he manages to notice the precariously set rock and lever stick and the fine line that moves up into the trees. A bit closer examination reveals a heavy log on rope set to swing down should one step on the stick and release the trigger; most people would find their chest caved in from a direct hit from such a nasty trap. Similarly, Vic notices another bear trap in the woodsy gloom and avoids it, the rusty metal glinting in the low ambient light. Finally, the unending woods seems to clear a bit and reveals a crude wooden shack. It appears to be made from scrap -- bits of clearly cast-off lumber and wood pallets are revealed in its construction -- and there is a faint light flickering out from the gaps in the ramshackle abode; the orange-yellow cast and flickering nature suggesting candles or an oil lamp. There is a door -- another cast-off, it would appear from the off-angle its set at -- nestled on the front of the shack. The wind blows and a sour, sick, coppery scent reaches the senses, wafting off the shack.
"Where is this sector's core of corruption, Arr?!" Vic calls out after having triggered the bear trap with a quickly acquired stick so that its not waiting for them incase they have to hastily retreat though the same part of the woods.
Rufus points to the house. "In the creepy murder shack." He says. "When we get inside, we need to barricade. If the sector is following pop culture rules, Jason can't poof inside if he doesn't have an entrance. Barricade windows and front and back doors." He explains. "Can buy us a few minutes."
Vic doesn't need to be told twice, murder shack or no she dashes towards it. "Barricades, check. Buy some time, awesome double check," yeah, the pain's getting to Vic.
Rufus rushes in behind Vic and then closes the door behind him. He doesn't really stop, and take time really to take in the surroundings. Rufus, thanks to Jason, is now the more nimble one of the duo having only a flesh wound in his leg. He finds chairs, shelves, anything that will cover anything no matter how big or small to begin barricading the house. As he does, he continues talking. Cuz multi-tasking is a thing. "So in Frankenville, the corrupting force was the story." He says. "So Frankenstein would kill his victims, use their body parts for the monster. It's possible the same thing is happening here. Jason's murder victims become linkdead." He tells Vic. "So no matter what, we -cannot- die here." He says. "The corruption node will be an object tied to the story. A few objects I can think of, is his mom's head, a women's wool sweater, a hockey mask, a machete." There really isnt a lot of Jason Paraphenalia now that Rufus thinks about it. It's just a dude, who goes around and beats people to death with a myriad of objects. Does that make it sad Jason's Rufus's favorite slasher villain? "Wait...a game..." He looks around the cabin. Apparently, Rufus is sufering a EUREKA moment!
The space inside the shack is surprisingly large, considering how tiny it looked from the outside. There are only two rooms, separated by an open archway, though it appears there is a bend and the only part of the second room that can be seen from the first is a flickering orange-yellow light playing against the walls and ominous, vaguely people-shaped shadows being cast there.
The main room appears to be some kind of sick abattoir or charnel house with a large crudely made but solid wooden table in the middle. Rusty metal hooks hang from the ceiling, occasionally tinkling like ghastly windchimes when the wind moves through the poorly insulated structure. Several weapons -- spears, a crossbow, several varieties of machete -- lie in a pile in the corner, no organization to be seen. The hooks and the table are covered with dark and light red stains, the darker ones dry and the lighter ones maintaining a wet sheen. The stench is -incredible-, absolutely revolting in its malodorous assault -- the scent of death, of fear, and of agony. Flies buzz around the interior, supping from the pools of dark liquid settling on the table and dripping to the earth from the hooks.
*ch ch ch ah ah ah ah*
Rufus' little Jason Detector begins its creepy little alarm again.
Vic's stomach churns as the sight and smells of the room assault her senses. She visually turns a bit green at the gills (heightened by the ongoing Data effect enveloping her) but she manages to keep from loosing the virtual contents of her digital stomach (which unfortunately actually means she nearly vomited over Astra's nice new VR suit while wearing it for the first time... but fortunately it was /only/ nearly).
"Eeeew," Other-Vic comments, relegated as she is to the peanut gallery.
"Oh shut up," Vic softly voices in her other's 'direction' and then she starts to help Rufus move funiture into place while she asks, "What?! What are you thinking we need to find?" with maybe a hint of distress sounding like anger tinging her voice.
"We've been thinking these are stories." Rufus says. "The corruption code is using the story to channel it's power. They're -not- stories. Their games." He looks at Vic. "Which means we can reset it." Finishing up the barricade. "Your the fighter. I want you to listen very carefully, to the code I am going to tell you. Be precise." Rufus gives the description, and nameplate, of a character by the name of Tommy Jarvis. The ONLY big name in Jason-Lore, the most worthless-not-worthless-lore there is. "If he breaks in, it may give you an edge server-wise. He's the only person in the story who ever killed Jason Vorhees." He says. He would do it, but he is neither a fighter nor able to interface. "As for what to look for..." Rufus purses his lips. It's time to guess. "We can't -break it-. Noire Automata destroyed the apparatus in Frankenville and just quantantined the sector. We need to use it to /reset/ the system." Rufus begins to investigate the cabin for anything besides weapons and death.
Vic quickly whips up a re-write of her Icon, having her other self pull up an image of the character to help do so, and becomes the only man to have ever defeated Jason (multiple times according to Other-Vic's side research while Vic did the coding). In her now masculine voice, Vic says, "Didn't want to risk trying to heal with the restrictions you stated were in play," then, "So how's this look?"
Rufus looks over at Vic and nods. "Looks pretty damn spot on." He says nodding. "Okay. If we're gonna try to do this, we need to get Jason back to the lake. We'll need some chains. It's usually how he's defeated. But we have Tommy Jarvis." He gestures to Vic. "So maybe, outright killing is no longer out of the cards. My guess is, the server will recognize the importance of the tag and make things easier for you to deal with him, or at least make the damage he sustains from you worse than from someone like me." He gestures to his Camp Counselor outfit. He continues searching however for any perceived Objects of Relevance.
Through the gaps in the shack, it's possible to see the silhouette and glint of plastic of the hulking brute at the treeline, staring towards the shack. Though silent and outwardly calm, there is still a faint hunch and tenseness to his form that gives the impression that he's glowering. And really, really -pissed-. With that same slow, determined movement as before, he ambles towards the shack. In the other room is where things get more interesting (for certain values of interesting). Or alternately disgusting. A sequence of candles is arranged around an altar along a short hallway. Skinned corpses (though oddly still maintaining their clothing which is a mix of camp counselor-y, hippie, and hiker accouterments depending on the corpse) are arranged in prayer poses, their bodies oozing with blood. On the altar is a grotesque simulacrum of a human woman, made of stitched together flesh and bloated with offal and iron spikes pinning it. The rotund stomach bulges out sickeningly and through the translucent skin something can be seen moving within. Only brief, fleeting glimpses are available, but the static, chaotic snow inherit in the corrupted sectors is prevalent on the form, almost like a texture on a polygon.
This is very much unlike most of the Friday the 13th movies; it is more reminiscent of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre or the Hills Have Eyes. Likely, this means that the Sector is not a prefect recreation of a singular movie, but rather an amalgamation of tropes and setting details.
This monstrous parody of a pregnant woman -- and more specifically the monstrosity swimming inside it -- is almost certainly the source of the corruption.
Rufus purses his lips and looks outside at the sliver of Jason, then looks back to the simulcra. "...Okay. That's not Jason." He points to the body. "...Tommy Jarvis. Check...this must be his old cabin. Check. What am I missing..." He frowns. Then he gets an idea. "UGH. I /DO/ need the sweater." He looks around at the one floor cabin, and he didn't find any Mom Gear. He frowns. "...seriously? I'm gonna have to matrix this?" He frowns, and shakes his head. "Alright. We're gonna matrix this." AKA, perform the code in his head.
Vic nods. The face of Tommy not showing the creepifying feelings that Vic is feeling about being gender bent and asks, "How do you know its not Jason, Arr?" because she hasn't been exposed to this genre of films before this imersive activity.
Rufus's appearance takes on the form of an elder woman, still nimble for her age but definately an 80s grandmother. She looks down at herself and grumbles. "This is sooooo gross." He looks to Tommy. "The creepy doll pregnant thing isn't from any Jason. But I had an idea. We can't destroy it, that much is true. It'll just quarantine the sector like Frankenville. We could kill Jason, which would reset the server but it might not get rid of the corruption code. But, if we make -Jason- kill the corruption code?" He makes a gesture of 'how could this POSSIBLY go wrong?' "Unstoppable force killing all-powerful code that is killing people? Let Jason do what he's supposed to do, and kill it."
Rufus says "Your on back-up. I'm his Mom. I'll try to get him to stab it. If he doesn't take the bait, we'll Tommy Jarvis him."
Suddenly, there is a loud thump to the barricade. The strength of it is enough to shake the entire shack and trickles of dust rain down from the ceiling. Soon after there is another. And another. And then there's a splintering of wood as the blade of the machete -- being used as an axe -- breaks through the hastily assembled barricade. It's working for now, but it won't last much longer...
Vic says, "Understood. You're going to matador him as mom and if needed I'm to steer him towards the lake and try to drown him." (S)He finds a place in the corner where (s)he won't be visible immediately.
The wood of the door splinters and the rest of the hastily assembled barricade breaks away. With a savage, heavy kick the remnants of the egress break away and another rain of dust comes from the roof. In the gloom, only Jason's shadow can be seen until the particulates begins to settle and there he is, looming in the doorway. So tall that the giant brute has to stoop slightly to step inside, his machete-cum-sword glinting in the light. First, he notices Vic in the guise of Tommy Jarvis. There is a slight pull back from the monstrosity as if surprised by the sight. He begins to lumber over to Vic/Tommy at a quicker pace than normal, the machete being raised over his head in a prelude to attack and scraping noisily along the shack's ceiling. Poised to strike, Jason is about the let the machete fall...
... And then he pauses, his mask shifting to regard Rufus in the shape of a spry elderly woman. The hulking figure hesitates, looking between the pair with the weapon still raised, confusion positively radiating from his form. He remains frozen for the moment in indecision, but who knows how long that will last.
"JASON!" Says Patty Vorhees. "MOTHER...IS TALKING TO YOU." Rufus/Patty stretches out her arms. "Come here, Jason. My special, special boy. Come here. Mother has a present for you." Rufus says. Trying to keep Jason's attention on him/her, rather than him/her.
Knowing all she can do is complicate it if she does anything, Vic keeps tucked into the corner, crouching to reduce her profile and make it more likely she might be overlooked and just in general trying to remain unseen.
The voice seems to snap Jason out of his indecision. The mask swivels to regard Rufus/Patty for a long moment before slowly lowering the machete. He does give one last strangely suspicious glance at Vic/Jarvis, but eventually turns and lumbers slowly over to where his 'Mother' is. He still grips the machete and the towering slab of undead muscle looms menacingly over Rufus/Patty, but he makes no aggressive moves. He just stands there, waiting.
Rufus/Patty nods, gesturing Jason toward him/her. "That's right, Jason. That's my boy." When Jason gets up to him Rufus looks up to the..well...monster. "Mother is so proud of you, Jason." She smiles, looking up at Jason. "You found it." She gestures to the lifelike doll that is pregnant. "/This/, Jason, is why those kids were sooo mean to you." She says, moving near it. "We're going to make them PAY Jason. And this is it. This is my gift, my smart smart boy." She looks at the doll, revulsion on her face. "Destroy it, Jason. Make them pay. Make them all pay!"
Vic holds her virtual breath. Hoping to keep as still as possible so as not to draw Jason's attention towards the potentially offensive icon.
The hulking form seems to relax perceptively when 'Mother' tells him how proud she is of him. The order to destroy the altar, though, gets a questioning tilt of the head and mask. The mask turns towards the altar and then looks back at Rufus/Patty before turning towards the mask again to the altar. After a brief pause, the brute looks sharply at Rufus/Patty before turning on his brutish heel and stomping towards Vic at double-pace, the machete raised in readiness to strike. This time there is no hesitation and the monstrosity lets the huge weapon come down on Vic/Jarvis.
Vic tucks and rolls as Jason swings his massive machette in her direction, hoping beyond hope that she will both avoice the damage and not slip on the blood that had begun to pool at her feet. As she steps up into a standing position and continues to move away from the masked marauder she breathes a sigh of relief. In this short haired form she even managed to avoid a close shave with her hair.
"JASON VORHEES." Rufus shouts as Jason goes to rip Tommy Jarvis in half. "MOTHER IS TALKING TO YOU. DO YOU WANT TO MAKE MOTHER ANGRY??" She shouts. "Noooo. Not my special boy. My smart, special boy. Your a good boy aren't you, Jason?" Rufus/Patty, in proper Mama Vorhees insane fashion, grabs that horrible pussing corpse-pregnant woman and tosses it onto the floor. "DO WHAT MOTHER SAYS JASON. Kill it!" She points to the languid corpse. "Show Tommy how real, strong boys make their mothers happy, Jason. Show him your better than he is, and DO WHAT MOTHER TELLS YOU TO DO."
Jason immediately moves to attack again, stomping forward towards Vic/Jarvis with the machete raise when Rufus/Patty's voice comes through. Again, he pauses and turns his upper body to look back towards the disguised VA. Jason turns back to Vic/Jarvis, pure malevolent hate radiating from his hulking form, but 'Mother' has spoken. Slowly, he lowers the machete and turns, lumbering back into the other room. He pauses, staring at Rufus/Patty for a long second before turning and staring down at the vile simulacrum. The massive body stands there for a while, almost immobile and for a moment, it looks like he's not going to do as ordered...
And then he raises the machete and begins his savage attack. With brutal efficiency, Jason hacks at the horrific suit of skin, sending wide rents into it. Each rent spills out a bright white light and soon the air fills with an ear-shattering screech, like the pin on a record player constantly being drawn down the grooves on vinyl. Finally at the assault, the pregnant belly bursts open and the entire area is filled with pure, white light.
Jason's silent silhouette stands there as the entire Sector begins to -unmake- itself. Lines of code peel from the walls of the shack like flaking paint only to disintegrate into puffs of sparkly pixels. The ceiling rips off and flies off into the dark sky before exploding in a cascade of multicolored lights. Huge sections of trees lift off the forest floor and float into the sky until they, too pop filling the sky with impromptu fireworks. Finally, Jason himself begins to disintegrate, his form blurring and large sections artifacting like a poorly rendered video.
In just a few seconds, the entire Sector is gone, replaced with an endless field of pearlescant white. Steaks of blue slide overhead, first a few and then with increasing frequency as data packets are realigned to once more pass through the Sector.
This Sector has returned to virgin territory.
Vic breathes a sigh of releaf and says, "I want to get out of here so the suit doesn't permanently get a crease from making me feel this wound," and then asks, "Any reason not to, Arr?"
Rufus, now outside the bounds of the server, reverts to his normal ICON as there are no longer rules conforming his code. He falls on his ass only when the hulking monstrosity of Jason vanishes as the sector reverts to it's original code state. "...Ha! HAHA!" He says, hitting the 'ground'. "We did it! We figured it out!" He falls on his backside and lets out a breath. "HAHA-HA!" He's too tired to not laugh. You can't laugh and be afraid at the same time afterall. "Phew!" He slowly lumbers back to his feet. "Oooh man." He slowly gets back up, looking at his arm which now lights up his VR interface. He never thought he would be so happy to see the little holokeyboard. "Well! We know now how to deal with the sectors at least." He lets out a breath, lowering to rest his hands on his legs. He's still winded, but adrenaline has kicked in. He'll probably be asleep in an hour or so. "We gotta make the story play against itself. Somehow." He stretches, looking over at Vic and then looks up and around. "....No. I think we're good here." He says, looking back to Vic. "Thanks for coming with, Vic...I wouldn't have been able to do that alone." He says, genuine appreciation in his voice. "Shall we jack out?"
Vic's ICON has by now snapped back to the statuesque woman with flowing locks of data-hair. She says, "You're welcome, glad I could help," she then says, "Yes please," about jacking out finally. "I need to get with Astra and give her my report on its performance... and let her have at the black box data," she adds.