Vat:05 Are You Ready To Ruuuuuuumble
Background Events at VAT
Joseph: So the fine folks who run this shindig have given us a doctored up coach with Petroleum Environmental painted across its side. The insides are climate controlled and have a host of giant plastic shields, batons, pepperspray and one thing that looks like a remote control that throws lightning.
Amiri: The vehicle actually looks pretty nice. Koz will have the final say in it, but it works for me. It also has some nice riot gear inside of it. It looks like they put the request in for more equipment to tie in with the vehicle. As long as we start to get fitted like a real group, I'm happy.
Southwestern PA Wrestling Club
Joseph: Seems that the African fella is a member of a gym called the Body Hut. At first I reckon that it's a black only club—the name does include "hut"—but then I'm told that isn't the polite thang to say, so I just go mum. Apparently the club is hosting a wrestling tourney run by a scab of man named Dick Wonderglass. There is something said about a party in the rear and work in the front, but I don't git it.
Amiri: My gym has sent me a letter letting me know that my membership is almost up. They also requested that I try to bring in some new members as well. This is a great time to get some of the less athletic ones in the group to bulk up.
I am able to strike up a conversation at the front desk and find out about some corporate rates. I run the numbers by Paddy and he is more than enthusiastic. I am even able to get us a sizable discount in the process. Now, perhaps, we can get some real hand to hand training in.
During negotiations, I was approached by what I guess could be considered a 'hip' individual. His name is Dick Wonderglass and he wants to do some sort of wrestling bit. This sounds like that thing that Joe made me watch before. I decided to pass, but we found later that he contacted VAT looking for talent, so we really had no choice but to say yes.
Joseph: So in preparation for this contest we are advised that we take on the appearance of vaudevillian clowns. Posing as the "Cowboy" is a route of least resistance, though unimaginative. Prior to the match I'm advised by my copatriots that wrestling is fake. Confident in this assumption, I take part in the braggadocio.
In a fit of irony I am pitted against Amiri. Within moments of the bell wringing I learn that "fake" does not mean that you can't get hurt! Amiri tosses me around like a sack of potatoes! Whispering he tells me to punch him as hard as I can—so I do it.
It doesn't even phase him.
Amiri picks up a chair to use against me, which is considered normal in this "sport", and I pretend to shoot it, using my Art to make the chair hit him in the head. A gratuitous use of my magical training that I would regret, were it not for the satisfying SMACK sound.
I lost the match.
Amiri: Having to take on a persona, I decide to go with the class warrior aspect of my ancestors, "Romba." I have a feeling it is an aspect that will let me clean house.
The first match was between Koz and Steve. In now way was this a good fight, but people cheered. I suppose in some way, it was amusing. I have seen children with more prowess.
The next was with me and Joseph. To be honest, I was looking forward to this a bit. He was due a few lumps for his uncouth attitude toward me, as well as most other non-whites. He danced around the ring for a while, but in two soft bumps I saw he almost had enough.
To end the match, I pull out a turnbuckle from the ring and wrapped him in the ropes. To finish it off, I through him at a table that rested on the far side of the gym. Needless to say, he did not get back inside in time. He looks at me with a little bit more respect now, which is nice. Well, actually, it may be fear. That's nice too...
The final fight with Sophia was what this should have been all about. Fury, drive, passion; the things that make for a truly stupendous fight. Sadly, everyone else around me seems to have a weak stomach for that sort of thing. Perhaps with some training she could become quite the formidable person.
Viet-Orc (or Corn and Maise)
Joseph: Days later a man smellin' like horse manure is waiting fer us in the VAT. The man is large, with ears pointed like many an unnatural creature and skin the color of olives. He calls hisself David and his family immigrated to the US from Vietnam after they was transformed inta what they are today—orcs.
We make arrangements to meet the rest of his kin in an abandoned mill. With a heavy heart I inform David that transformations like these are usually not reversed. Feelin' mighty guilty about givin' 'em the bad news, I collect donations for 'em to help them out as best as we kin.
Amiri: Sophia met some tall guy after the match that requested a meeting with us. A few days later we met with him at the gyro location.
He was quite the brutish looking man that has some severe phobia of essence users. We had to be sure to use no magical abilities while in his presence.
He is what he calls an orc. His family is from Vietnam and they came to America to escape persecution. It evidently work to well as they can find no work and are left to live in an abandoned steel mill in Homestead. They take what they can by night, and are taking care of themselves pretty well so far, though by no means is it a high standard.
They are not looking for handouts, but we show them a little charity anyway. The main orc we met with, David, is informed that we may hire him out if we need to. It may not always be the most honest of work, but it is work none the less.
Team 2 Hasn't Checked In
Joseph: Upon returnin' to the VAT we are told that Team 2 hasn't checked in fer a while and they are assumin' the worse. We are ta interrogate the brown motorcycle fella and follow up on leads.
Amiri: It looks like we finally get to have some answers to why our building was blown up. I've been waiting to pry some answers out of this murderer for a while now. I know I won't let myself get out of hand, no matter the temptation to do so.
Pauline: After the events on the highway, I needed a little time to myself. It's not every day you kill a man over a pile of rocks. And was I pissed about that, too. I don't like being somebody's hired gun, so you can bet Jørgin and Pat got an earful from me.
They wanted me to talk to some shrink, and honestly, I wasn't opposed. I've been having nightmares about that damn shotgun…
But Pat explained what it was we were carrying- at least what he thinks it is. If they're right, I can see why people want the damn thing. I also have a sense that Brigid has had a hand in this. I've made sure to bring up the subject in my prayers. I need to do a little research, but her connection to… those rocks may be a little stronger than I think.