[IC: Chapter 2: Bruised Knuckles in San Francisco]

[Basketvector]

Everyone relax. My colleague and I are acting in our capacity as agents of the Court. We are taking this turkey into custody for violation of bail conditions. Stand back now, he may be armed. Stand back.

Max opens the rear door.
Eddie, put that greasy son of a bitch in the car.

Max climbs into the drivers seat and struggles to put the seat back all the way.
oc Max has 2 years of NYU law.

[coffeedemon]

9:08 PM Saturday, June 29, 1937. San Fransisco - Palace Hotel

Nick screams in pain when you pull at him. He tries to resist, but you manage to get him halfway to the car.

"Ah FUCK! That hurts!"

He turns to the crowd.

"They're lying! They're mobsters! They're going to kill me! They're gonna take me in that car an' kill me! Someone FUCKIN DO SOMETHING!"

The crowd doubles in size. Nick is really making a scene. One half of the bandage hangs off his face, revealing nasty scabbing and a huge black-and purple- bruise across his nose.

The group looks concerned and uncertain. They're not sure what they're witnessing at the moment.

[OC: Lets do an opposed Fast-Talk - Nick vs. Max. Nick has 35% Fast Talk and rolled a 17 - Hard Success! Max needs a Hard Success (27 or less) to tie and an Extreme Success (11 or less) to win. A tie will mean the crowd remains uncertain - the cops will definitely look into this. A win (Extreme Success) means you convince the crowd. If you don't get a Hard Success, the crowd will turn against you in some way.

Remember, you can use Luck (you have 60) to bump up the roll on a 1-to-1 basis. Or you can amp up the situation somehow and Push the roll - reroll, but the consequences are greater.]

[coffeedemon]

[OC:I also noticed that you're both down HP. You should each get 1 HP back from sleeping overnight in the motel. I looked back and don't think I gave you that HP before. I'm adjusting your character sheets now.

You're still not at full HP though. That's from jumping out of the train, I think.]

[Basketvector]

Don't worry everyone, this violent mobster has been brought to justice with the throw of a baseball by All-American hero Eddie Ciccote - Diamond Dynamo of the Boston Red Sox. Who can forget his 25 game win streak in '17? With a cunning blend of curves, sliders, and his signature knuckleball, he brought Beantown to victory and danced his way into the hearts of fans and foes alike. Everyone give a big round of applause for EDDIE CICOTTE!!!
YEAH!!!

But, the mobster is probably armed though. So, clear out. Seriously, clear out or you'll get shot.

oc Rolled 21 and Max will spend 10 luck to get the hard success for Fast Talk.

[coffeedemon]

9:08 PM Saturday, June 29, 1937. San Fransisco - Palace Hotel

The crowd stares, uncertain about what exactly they're witnessing.

Nick is in too much pain to resist being manhandled into the back of the car.

You quickly ascertain that he's not carrying a gun.

His bruised face is covered in sweat.

"Don't fuckin' kill me. Listen. I swear, I'll do whatever you want."

[Basketvector]

Once Eddie and Nick are in the back seat Max floors it. That little bit of action has left him drenched in sweat, heart pounding.
"Nick! Nick! You listening?" "I'm not gonna kill you Nick."

Max takes a violent left onto Mission St. He checks his watch. He doesn't have a watch. Damn.
He looks up at the fast darkening sky and nails the accelerator.

"See Nick, strange as it seems, the three of us share a kinship. Devil's had a taste of MAX O'MALLEY and HE LIKES it!"

He takes a hard right onto 1st. He sails through the intersection at Harrison then cuts across the center two lanes onto the Bay Bridge Ramp. Once they're on the bridge he really open it up.

"See, I got a bet with my old head shrinker, Dunning... Eddie, you remember Dunning right? Anyway, he thinks I'm CRAZY Nick!"
Max harrasses a slow moving Packard with his horn before jutting around him. "YOU MOTHERFUCKER!"

"Doc says this shit is all in my head. Nice story Doc, except even Beezlebub leaves a paper trail."

Max bottoms out on the apex of the bridge. On the downslope, he really starts picking up speed.

"I think you know what i'm talking about Nick." "... and we're going to prove it to him tonight." The way I figure, the three of us got marked by the almighty. We got inside him and he got inside us. You starting to get the picture Nick?"

"And when Beezlebub finds you tonight all trussed up with a pretty little bow on your head, then we're gonna find out who's crazy."

"It's gonna be a long night for you Nick, but in the morning we'll understand what we're up against."

Max comes roaring down the offramp towards the unlit expanse on the edge of town. He is reminded of black seas of infinity from one of the books strewn beside him. By now, Max's manic drawings of glyphs and sigils litter the floor of the car.

[DSIGFUSS]

Eddie picks up one of the glyphs Max had scribbled onto paper and the looks sideways at Nick. Cocking his head slightly as if in question. He secures his pistol deep within his zoot suit so nick can't simply grab it from him. He then scrounges up a few more and leafs through them as if He was seeing them for the first time.

Uh... you ok Fats?

[coffeedemon]

9:39 PM Saturday, June 29, 1937. Oakland. Twenty Minutes East of San Francisco

Nick grimaces and holds his knee as Max turns sharply and the car jostles through the suburbs of Oakland. Eddie can see that Nick's knee is already very swollen, and pushing against the fabric of his pants.

He whispers to Eddie,

"What the fuck is happening here? Is he talkin' about killin' me?"

Then he speaks more loudly, to Max as well.

"Look, I need a fuckin' hospital. Just drop me off an' give me cab money, an' we'll call it even. I'll tell you everything you wanna know. Tom Collins is a cockamamie bastard anyways. Fuck him. Waddaya say? Let's make this right."

Under the bravado, there is the hint of desperation in his voice.

The streetlights of Oakland burn a sickly sodium-halide orange. You are making your way through a quaint, fairly new suburban area - small homes on small lots. The shadows are dark, and no one is walking the streets here.

[Basketvector]

"This looks good."

Max pulls into a derelict vineyard. He drives a short way down an access road. On both sides, dead vines wrap around the arbors like skeletal fingers.
The air smells like damp soil and decay. A lone scarecrow stands watch over a field of splintered barrels staves and twisted metal.

Max stops the car. The headlights illuminate a old rusted water pump.

"Outta the car, Gucci."
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1SAU2G9 ... rkSIN/edit

oc. Max opens the trunk to get the rope. Is there anything else in the trunk?

[coffeedemon]

10:20 PM Saturday, June 29, 1937. Derelict Vineyard, Outskirts of Oakland.

As Max heaves himself out of the car and pulls rope out of the trunk, Nick hisses to Eddie,

"This guy is fuckin' crazy. Tell you what - I'll pay you anything. I got a good bit of money socked away. I'll pay you. Just jump in the drivers seat, leave this guy behind and get me the fuck outta here. Two thousand dollars. Waddaya say?"

He cranes his neck to see what Max is doing in the truck, and also pulls himself towards the door on his side of the car.

In the back of the car, Max finds:

A length of rope
A tire iron
A spare tire
A cloth bag with some gym shoes and dirty socks in it.
A canvas bag with a new tools in it: screwdrivers, wrench, jack for the car.
A near-empty jerrycan of gas.

[DSIGFUSS]

Eddie pulls his revolver and points it at Nick for a brief vacant moment before his wry smile returns to his cheeks. He then tilts over the Revolver back anb\d empties the bullets onto the floor of the car. In as gentle of voice as he can muster. Eddie begins.

No ones going to kill you Nick. Max was a cop. My brother was a cop. I was a god damn major league pitcher for christ's sake. True, we may have slipped off our cracker as of late. Some... more than others.

Eddie points a thumb towards Max rummaging in the trunk.

Now I can't promise old fats here won't smack you atrouind with those hamms of his bless his heart, but honest to god we're just trying to makie sense of things Nick...

Eddie grows suddenly grimm and looks nervously around the field as if expecting to see someone.

You were there Nick. At the theatre... Way back... we had our show down with your boss. We was winninbgf that show down far as I can reckon donb't you think Nick.


Eddie pauses for a second and continues before Nick has a chance to answer.

You saw that bloody light... we know you did. And all that came with it. You've been having dreams haven'y you? Unexplained shit's been happening all around yah. You think you're going nuts but its not enough to be nuts... You can push it away and blame it on the work.. Or whatever you gotta tell your self to get through the damn day. Now you saw the light and we wanna chat about it. Me abnd Max haven't even had that chat yet. This is our first bonified meeting of the deadlight. That sick, thick mind fuck of a light. You hear me Nick. Between you and me, I think my Max has cracked. He's been thinking too much bout that light and now he wants to chat about it. I know you don't want to chat about it. Hell, I don't want to chat about it. But it looks klike we're gonna chat about it... So...

Eddie open the car door, steps outside and stretches from the short ride. He bends into the car with his smile and friendly demeanour closely in check. Eddie holds out a hand to Nick.

C-mon Nick... This is a safe place. If I'm lying, I'm dying. Lets's hear what the Fatman has to say.

[coffeedemon]

[OC: Max and Eddie, both roll Spot Hidden.]

[coffeedemon]

10:21 PM Saturday, June 29, 1937. Derelict Vineyard, Outskirts of Oakland.

Nick stares at Eddie. It takes him a moment to figure out how to respond. He tries to sound measured and reasonable.

"I wasn't there. But I know what you're talkin' about. I heard rumours. The Union Theatre, right? That's when Tom Collins turned. Sure, I can talk to you two about it. I can tell you what I know about Tom, if it helps."

Nick winces and pulls himself out of the car, behind Eddie.

"This fuckin' knee."

Eddie knows hand tricks. He's seen a dozen types of spitballs, back in his day. Hell, he threw the World Series. He knows how to cheat.

And Nick's a beginner. Eddie sees what's going to happen before the gangster even does it: On his way out of the car, Nick hangs an arm down low, picks up a plum-sized stone off the ground, and palms it.

Nick lifts himself up slowly, favouring his knee, leaning against the side of the car. He's eyeing Max warily - trying to look casual, but also trying to get a look at what he's doing in the trunk.

"Sure, let's talk. I'll help ya out."

It's real dark out here. Only the headlights, shining on the old pump, light the dead vines and dry earth.

[OC: Eddie passed Spot Hidden, Max failed. I marked the success on Eddie's character sheet.]

[Basketvector]

Max grabs the rope and slams the trunk. He starts walking towards Nick.

"Now take it easy, Nick. We're just going to leave you tied up out here."
"What's the matter, you afraid of the dark?"

[coffeedemon]

10:21 PM Saturday, June 29, 1937. Derelict Vineyard, Outskirts of Oakland.

Nick backs up, away from Max, maintaining his distance. He favours his wounded leg.

Eddie can see that he is still palming a plum-sized stone in one hand.

"Don't be stupid. You want Tom Collins. You didn't come all the way out here for me. You're goin' to Shanghai. You think you can just fly over there an' find him? You need me. I'm supposed to meet him there."

He's eyeing Eddie and the pistol.

[DSIGFUSS]

Easy Max. This is the social part of this here gathering of the minds. We don't need the rope.. Not yet.


Eddie takes a step away from both Max and Nick and brings his louisville slugger to bare from the sling in his suit. The motion is quick and slick.

And I don't need this neither, right Nick? Just like you don't need that brain beener you're holding there in that big mit of yours. Now's not the time pally.

No rock... No rope ... No bat.

Just us boys... chatting in a cornfield... like bossum buddies we'll be.


Eddie smiles, tilts his head pleadingingly and waits for Nick to drop the rock.

[coffeedemon]

10:22 PM Saturday, June 29, 1937. Derelict Vineyard, Outskirts of Oakland.

Nick drops the rock.

"Keep the gun outta my face and we can talk."

He tries to stand up a little straighter and regain his composure.

"Look. You can use me to trap Tom in Shanghai. I have a boat ticket for Monday. You buy yourselves a ticket, we take a nice trip, talk things through on the way. I can tell you everything I know about the guy. I've been workin' for him for years. I'll give you the ins an' the outs."

The sweat on Nick's face glistens in the light of the car. The old water pump looms ominously in the headlights, and the grape vines surround you with strange shadows. The car's engine ticks as it cools.

"I said it before an' I'll say it again. I have nothing against you two. I was paid to kill you, yeah. But it's not personal. I consider that job to be done. I failed. Fuck it. I quit workin' for Tom. You win. Let me help you out."

[OC: Max, make a Psychology roll if you feel like you're watching him carefully and trying to get a read on him. Eddie failed his roll.]

[coffee demon]

Summary of Connections and Leads

1) John Scolinos, the manager of the Alameda Kono Allstar team, asked you to take the train (which you did) and contact him about the contract in Japan. You took the train, but you have yet to contact him. (Though I think you suspect this was a trap and not a genuine request).

2) "David", whose briefcase you stole, was with Nick on the train. He's still out there somewhere.

3) David had a ticket for a steamship, which leaves on Monday.

4) David also had a strange letter, transcribed from a letter that Tom Collins recieved from a Priest-Historian named Emil de Briac. Emil wrote the letter from Shanghai. The original letter was recieved by Tom Collins on June 10, and transcribed by David on June 13 - about two weeks ago. In other words - you don't necessarily need Nick to find Tom Collins, assuming Tom went to talk to Emil (and you do have Emil's location). Nick might not know about this letter from Emil, since you found it in David's briefcase, tucked in a weird old book.

5) A millionnaire named Harold Humes helped finance Tom Collins' bid for mayorship. He lives in L.A., a 6-hour drive from here.

[DSIGFUSS]

OK Nick. I don't think that will be necessary but I appreciate the teamwork vibe you got gobng here pally.

Eddie slings his loisville sluuger back into his zoot suit and jeans against the car. The motion is slick.

I don't know abouts fats here Nick. But I'd like to know what you heard about that night at the theatre. Who all made it outta there and what did they have to say?

Eddie winks at Max.

And believe you me pally.. Nothin you say's gonna spook us, or make us think you're nuts... Matter fact Nick... You don't sound a little crazy in the next couple versus of this tune, I might let fats here make use of that rope.

[Basketvector]

Max backs off.

"All right Nick, since you're feeling talkative. We spoke with your pill pusher... Carlos. Nice guy. Family man. Not a piece of shit killer like you. He said we three were being controlled that night in Chicago, at the Theater, by forces unseen. Like, like, marionettes."

"Or maybe, like we was part of its body."
Max giggles...

"Heh.. I guess that makes me the big toe huh Eddie? Max gives his fat a little jiggle. Hee hee, woo!"
Max is winded.

He pulls out his revolver.

"And that makes you the little the toe, right Nick?" Max bellows. "BWAA HA HA! That's rich! Ain't it Eddie?"
"Nick Christmas, little toe of the devil!"

He wants to say more but instead he rests his fat ass up against the Cabriolet and breathes for a while.