[IC] The SCP Foundation - Chapter 1: Trick or Treat

[WindStruck]

Daniel exits the truck and takes a peek under the hood - it's likely that whatever's gone wrong isn't something he can fix, it's something about the town, but no harm in taking a peek. Plus, if they're being watched, gotta stay in-character.

Spoiler

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Expertise/Cars +8, can take 20 on mental checks in roughly 1/8th the time as long as it can fit in his "a few minutes" window. Idk if that's long enough for a diagnosis, but lmk what the bonus/total should reasonably get me.

Daniel's precognition may be spot on, but his postcognition may be a little rusty. He recalls during the mission briefing that it was planned for the car to break down. From what you can see happened under the hood, amid all the smoke, it almost looks like a tiny, mini explosive has ruptured the car's fuel regulator.

The actual cause of this damage would most certainly stump any skilled mechanic, but you know for certain it was intentional sabotage. Also, in case of an emergency, there is a backup regulator hidden amid all your moving stuff. That was just thrown in there as an afterthought. But good luck getting it replaced in an actual emergency.

”Goddamnit,” “Rudolph” says as he gets out of the car, getting into character. “Guess I was wrong about not getting her serviced before we left. Hey Brandon, I’m gonna see if there’s someone up ahead who can give us a tow or something.” James jogs off to the building up ahead.

((Good acting! I hope.))

You start jogging off into the town. Looking behind, you see "Brandon" checking the car, and Big Kuzmo beginning to push from behind. If he was on one side, the the two of you other guys pushed from the other, you could probably actually push it all to the town if you really wanted.

((Either way, I'll wait to see if you change your mind or if anyone else joins you before proceeding.))

Cecily, all tense and sore, rubs her wrists quite grimly as she waits for being handed her equipment. She thought standing as freely as she'll get in the foreseeable future, under an open sky would be more liberating. Instead, it just feels odd. She looks around, slipping the gloves on. The scenery is welcomely nondescript, but… Did they just journey for literal days to do… Community service?

The fingers of her bag hand drumming arythmically on her thigh, she catches up to Hank (it was really him or Cheryl, and Cheryl, while a known quantity, wasn't always super good for her mood) to try and pick up his pace, making sure she stays as far away from Benjamin and especially Tater as possible. Hey. she whispers to the man. That's, uh, that's some kind of a sick joke, right? The thing with the corn, I mean. She really needs some reassurance on that front: in less than a minute, she managed to cook up at least three theories about how there could actually be something in the cornfield. Maybe a lion? It escaped from a zoo or something and now they're used to bait it out. Or it could be the Children of the Corn thing. She shudders at the thought, and has to actively force herself to at least pretend she's focusing on the task.

Spoiler: OOC

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I decided C. and Hank know each other and are on good terms, relatively speaking. Sue me.

Hank was a tall and well-built man with olive skin. If he got out in the sun as often as normal people, he would probably have a healthy tan. He makes one very brief, punctuated laugh at Cecily's worry. "Heh. They're just sayin' that to scare us. But I still don't think it's a good idea to give 'em trouble." He confidently saunters along, not really caring for any of this bulls***, but going along with it anyway.

Benjamin spends a good twenty seconds looking up at the sky, squinting toward the sun, feeling it on his face. One doesn't really give the sun the value it deserves until they've been incarcerated underground, one's body forced to nervously capilulate to the capricious dictates of electric light day-cycles. But once herded into action, he's a model prisoner; jabbing trash, bagging trash; jabbing trash, bagging trash. He makes a little game of it; each peice of trash he thinks up a name for, and then the next one he thinks up a name the next letter over, and a boy instead of a girl, or what not. Like he's naming cyclones, or something'. Franky. Jab, bag. Greta. Jab, bag. Henrietta. Jab- Wait, ****, he means Henry. Bag.

Briefly, he considers accusing Tater loudly of trying to make a run for it - but the wardens here aren't messing around. Tater deserved to learn a lesson, not to be blown to pieces. Still, that'd be a hell of a lesson.

You're a star when it comes to picking up the trash! Not like there's much of it around here, but your efforts most certainly go unnoticed.

Spoiler: Desired flashback equipment scene

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(OOC: I am going with some artistic liberty here but feel free to bap me with the rewrite stick if needed)


After the meeting but before they took off on the assignment the lizard would request to see his equipment in person. To be sure that the weapons and armor they were sending with him were adequate for the risks he was undertaking, willingly no less. Upon wandering up he see's them assembled, and around them a plethora of guards ready to shoot should he make a wrong move. Paying them no mind he looks down at them, them hovers him hand over the falcata and waits for the ok to inspect it.

"Might I inspect this one more closely. it has been a long while since last I held my blade of choice."

((Well it's not much I planned to dwell on, but okay.))

Spoiler: Le Flashback

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The crew overseeing you inspect your weapons takes but a step back for a bit more distance. Perhaps it's nothing, given the sudden bursts of speed and strength you are capable of. But still, all the same, they are well-trained soldiers, and they wait curiously to see how you handle your falcata. You're more than welcome to give it a few practice swings, just not on any SCP Foundation members.

As the truck came to a stuttering stop Kuzmo perks up his head from the two diffrent bags of sliders he was chowing down on (which many thanks to the team leader for securign for him as his hunger was great) and gives a slight frown. "Geysers of Gazramil! Has the truck just died on us!? Splendid. Shall i get out and push then?"

He grumbles and he sets one of the bags down and exists the vehicle unless stopped by Fink.

If Kuzmo should get even the inkling of an idea that his mind is being read he will mention eating the brains of whomever is invading his mind.

"And me? Am I pushing this horseless wagon to a better place to wait?" He says, still filling his face with delicious tiny cheeseburgers.

It would seem that's what you're doing for now! But even with your massive strength and size, the car and trailer it pulls behind barely moves an inch. It'll probably take all of your combined efforts to get this thing rolling without engine power.