The Barracks

[Richard Price]

”Already making your own moves? I can see the spirit of autumn still rustles. I am glad to have you with us in the Iron Spear however, don’t get me wrong. You are right about education. I don’t think it is a simple Court matter either, it is city wide. Our population isn’t great. If we collaborate, I feel safety nets could be erected in a number of ways by a number of our fine citizens.”

He was in agreeance with Fawkes about needing to promote something there. The idea of a threat seemed foreign to them, and there was so much district in a structured system Luck of the draw had many of the Lost here coming from corrupt Freeholds, which was truly unfortunate.

”There will be a place and purpose for you Fawkes.”

There was confidence in his voice.

”You know when someone retires, and then get pulled back in, saying that they had the itch and were going crazy at home? That sure as shit isn’t me. I have a heated pool, I was happy to lay around and watch ESPN all day. But this? This is dangerous, like letting a bomb tick down and hope someone else defuses it. If I could sit back and do nothing, I would. To not do something would be criminal.”

As he finished speaking he had started looking off to the side as he sat in the seat across from Fawkes, setting his plate on the small table beside his seat as he settles in, grabbing his beer and leaning back for a long drink. As he pulls the bottle away he motions with it to the building behind the pool.

”It has a little living room, bedroom with bathroom, kitchen, and a little nook. If you want to crash there for a night or two feel free. If you would feel better making arrangements I don’t blame you. All I ask is you keep it in relatively good shape, and keep it clean.”

There were two meanings in clean.

[Fawkes]

Fawkes was a Lost that had made it to this moment due to two factors: his ability to enact ruin, and his overwhelming distrust in people.

It did not matter how well someone meant, Lost or otherwise—the clarity of impending failure was as calm as true as the surface of a mirror. It merely came down to twisting factors to get an outcome that better served your goal.

But, despite his sterile appearance, and no matter how much he felt otherwise, Fawkes was still a man. A man who had just been presented with exactly what he wanted, but his illness did not allow him to accept such things.

It was like slamming the door to the Exit, but the one who to do it was himself.

The boiling panic in the mannequin is compressed behind the thousand yard stare. Hand trembling doesn't escape the the surface, his face remains smooth and without fracture.

  5 successes

Date		Action		Roll		Result
2019-03-19 16:21:15		Fawkes rolls 6 to hide emotions (Resolve + Composure + Rigid Mask) (10 Again)		10, 8, 9, 8, 7, 4, 8		5 successes

He isn't even entirely sure what he was feeling or what there was to be upset about. His mind is just static. Relief? But why was it so raw. His psyche fights with itself as he tries to calculate whether Richard was just trying to tell him everything he needed to hear to get slotted as a personal retainer. But why was that bad? That was literally what he was. There was no downside to murder for this man while he took control, right?

On the surface Fawkes merely takes a sip from his beer to realize it was empty.

"I won't break your things," he says dryly, placid and complacent despite the internal panic attack, "I have other places for that."

[Richard Price]

Steak, beer, and stories filled the rest of the afternoon and into the evening, Fawkes was given a key to the guest house where he was allowed to stay until he found someplace better

Welcome to the Neighborhood! Great Scene!