Bring Up The Party

###Bring Up The Party *by <a href="http://neurostyle.net/storyteller/">Emilio González</a>* --- The steel and cement walls of this ancient military base are rusted and cracked, but they're still more than sufficient to be easily defended. You've observed enough to know that the front gate is the only possible way in - and that they don't seem to shoot visitors on-sight. Somewhere inside is the information that will bring peace to your home. Well, it should be in there. You can see a guard on the wall raise his binoculars in your direction when you emerge down the road. His body language is relaxed as he continues patrolling, but he still regularly looks around and checks you out as you get closer. As you near the gate you come into the view of the well-fortified guard nests. You can't see the guards very well, only that they seem to be wearing old army helmets; they don't look alarmed by you, but the ordinance on display means they shouldn't be alarmed by much. You hear some laughing. [[Approach the gate.->Gate]] --- (This is set in a post-apocalyptic world, but it could be any lawless region with persistent bandits, raiders, gangs, etc.)

The outer gate is open just enough to get a cart or pack animal through, but the inner gate is closed. Loud talking and occasional laughter is coming from the guard house's open door, and now you can hear loud, twangy rockabilly from somewhere over the wall. While you approach the guard house, a greying man and a young woman step out dragging a stumbling-drunk man. The man and woman are wearing mismatched wasteland gear, but you're guessing they're guards by the army helmets and identical rifles. They stand up the drunk, a trader that looks on the young side, while the older guard speaks. **"You can't handle the fun! It's not even-"** The drunk lists off and they make a half-assed effort to catch him. **"Look at this guy, not even a day. Bounces in here like he's gonna bring us up, instead he's letting us down."** The younger guard chortles as they roughly sit him down against the wall. **"HAH! Lettin' us down! We just had to let him down! HAH! At least we got a little zip here, right?"** **"Yeah! Can't let him take me down with him! More than I can say for grossin' up Tico's bathroom, though."** The older guard pulls out a money pouch tucked behind his armor and swings it in front of the drunk. **"Lucky-lucky I saved this for you, it was fallin' out. That's how sweet we are here, candy-sweet!"** The drunk tries to focus on the bag and slowly reaches for it. The guard pulls the bag back. **"You brought Tico down, though, since he's gonna hafta clean up your gross. So I'm takin' twenty and givin' it back to Tico - you're buyin' him a bottle. Drinkin' fun for him!"** The guard takes some money out, counts it, throws a couple pieces back in, then hands the bag to the drunk. **"Better bring a lot more supplies if you want to sell here again!"** The drunk mumbles unintelligibly while stuffing the pouch into his shirt, crosses his arms, and slouches over asleep. The older guard starts to grumble unhappily, then rises in pitch and laughs roughly. **"Yeah, zip!"** He looks over at you and pumps his fist up, **"ZIP! YEAH!"** He motions towards the door. The younger guard chortles more, but still keeps an eye on you as they go back inside. [[Enter the guard house.->EnterGuardHouse]]

The card players appeared to be a giant bear and adolescent girl while your eyes adjusted to the light, but now you see it's a large man and a small woman. The woman notices you and springs up, tossing down her cards. **"Uh-oh, you win! Time for chit-chat!"** She grabs a bottle of liquor, pours a large shot into an empty grenade casing, and pushes it over to the other player with a **"ha-ha!"**. He looks grim while he eyeballs you - probably someone you really wouldn't want to anger - but he raises the casing to you, nods, maybe smiles under his beard, and downs the shot cleanly. He carefully starts shuffling the cards. The woman puts her fists on her hips and sizes you up for a moment. **"Huh!"** She's Asian and probably in her late 30's; she moves energetically and speaks in a girlish, American-accented voice, but the hint of lines around her eyes and rough edge to her voice betay her years. Her most distinguishing feature is the mass of dreadlocks towering back from her head, adding nearly a foot to her height. Dreads aren't that unusual to see, except that hers are woven through with a garish mix of colored ribbon, construction markers, strips of metal foil, and... Ancient camera film? Despite the chaos, it's one of the cleaner heads of dreadlocks you've seen in the wasteland. The rest of her outfit might look a little odd on someone else, but it seems to fit with her hair: dark red leather pants under a bright blue tutu and olive green leg warmers, an orange-brown paisley silk shirt with a clip-on black military dress tie, and a bright purple satin vest sprinkled with a hodgepodge of military medals, bottlecaps, spent casings, and other trinkets. Her shotgun sits on the table, but the handle of a large sheathed knife sticks out above the tutu. She speaks in a rising and falling tempo, occasionally clicking or fidgeting to the music as she thinks. She doesn't really look sober, but she's probably one of the most sober ones here. **"Soooo, hey-hey, wacha want? You're new! Good times! Hmm-hmm-tsk, don't look like a trader, don't smell like a raider, waaaaacha want? Can't get in unless you're a trader or you - tsk-tsk-tsk! - gotta know someone. Wacha want? Keep it happy!"** She bites her lower lip and looks at you with wide, smiling eyes. She drums her fingers on the handle of her knife. This may be your only chance to speak. [["I'm a trader."->TraderDeal-Check]] [["I know someone!"->KnowSomeone-Check]] [["I really need to get in there. The truth is..."->TellYourStory]]

(if:$toldStory is 1)[**"Since your story is good you get help: bring a dozen booze and dozen suds to sell and you can party, mmm-hmm! And look for what you need to make home right... Come talk to me if you find it! Bop-Bop!"** You might have that much party on you. [[(PASS MODERATE CHECK) "I think I have just enough supplies."->TraderDeal-Success]]](else:)[She looks a little guarded, but curious. She presses her palms together and drums her fingers. **"Supplies? No johnny? Sssssss-tsk! You're new, so straight-shootin': you can't get in the party unless you have a LOT of party to bring! Tsk! Kiddos want the goodtimes more than the money, so only feel-good traders get in. Feel-goods bring us up with at least two dozen booze, two dozen suds, and two dozen chems to sell. And then PARRRRRTAAAAY! YEAH?"** You definitely don't have that much party on you. [["I'll level with you..."->TellYourStory]] [[(PASS HARD CHECK) "Of course, you may inspect my inventory!"->TraderDeal-Success]]] [["Someone is expecting me in there, though!"->KnowSomeone-Check]]

**"Someone?"** She rapidly swivels her head around a couple times in a mock search. **"Hmm-hmmmmmm, no 'someone's' here, someone doesn't come to party! Hmm-hmm? This party isn't for everyone! Who are they, I know all the ones! Go-go-go!"** She turns an ear to you and taps it impatiently. [["Um, Jane... Doe..."->KnowSomeone-Fail]] [[(PASS VERY HARD LIE) "Ricky Sbartenizegolen, though he goes by different names."->KnowSomeone-Success]]

You try honesty and speak to her quietly: **"My home is in trouble; it might tear itself apart from the inside. I've traveled a long way because somewhere in this old place is information that will save us. I need to get inside."** (set:$toldStory to 1) She actually appears to stop moving for a second while scrutinizing your face, then switches her pursed lips from side to side. **"That I feel. Yup, I know that, mmm. But a lot of stories stand here juuuuust looking to get in the party - can't let you in for stories! Tsk-tsk! Would just be a storyteller party! HAH!"** She crosses her arms and tilts her head from side to side. **"I can't be a downer if it's not just a story, nope-nope, don't want to..."** She speaks quietly, as if cursing near children, **"hurt your home."** She peps up and rocks on her boot heels, elbows akimbo, flicking her fingertips against the tutu. **"Still gotta help my party to help your home, but you don't have to be a big time feel-good trader to party. Hmmmm-hmm-hmm. I'll let you get in with less. If you're just johnny-in' we still get some supplies? Straight square? Zip?"** [["Ah, thanks. What do I need to get in?"->TraderDeal-Check]]

She peers into your duffel and her eyes light up. She claps and bounces in a circle, then opens the duffel further to inspect it. **"All party-goodness! Didn't think there was room, but it's all in there! To the brim with ZIP! Payday for you, feel-good!" Her hand casually closes on an especially good bottle of liquor. "And payday for the guards! Yup-yup! We're happy, you're safe."** She tosses the bottle to the big man, who catches and places it on the table with minimal movement. **"You have one day of party-time. Be out by this time tomorrow, so sell your feel-good bag fast! See Tico, he can help. Before payday, lemme be straight - no downers! We don't like the 'law' word, but we got one super-straight thing: you do wrong, you make it right. Yessss-yes. The other super-straight thing is PARTY! Don't bring anyone down! Keep yourself up! Zip-zip-ZIP!"** [["Hey, can I ask about this place?"->WhyParty-Check]] [["One day, talk to Tico, no downers, party. Got it."->EnterBase]]

**"HAH! Think I'd be pooped on that one, but HAH! ZIP! Still funny. I'm zippy, but lying miiiiiight bring the others down."** You realize that behind you the guards have fallen silent, not even the rustle of pages or sweep of blade on stone. [["I'll level with you..."->TellYourStory]]

Her eyes flick back and forth. She's probably thinking, though she could be having some kind of seizure. **"Rrrricky... Sssssyeah! Ricky! Then you're probably goodtimes, too, but lemme be straight - no downers! We don't like the 'law' word, but we got one super-straight thing: you do wrong, you make it right. Yessss-yes. The other super-straight thing is PARTY! Don't bring anyone down! Keep yourself up! Zip-zip-ZIP!"** [["Yeah, PARTY!"->EnterBase]] [["Before I go, I had a question about this place..."->WhyParty-Check]]

She taps her fingers on the sides of her decorated dreadlock beehive. **"Ding-ding-ding, you found the answerer! Yesss-yup-yup! I'm Hoondoon, the one for chit-chat. Some call me 'Honcho', but no one's the boss - hah-HAA except the GOODTIME! AAAOW! Bop-bop! Sooo, I like to chit-chat with the new and help keep the party happy - and now some of 'em think I'm mommy!"** She leaps across the room and drums her hands on the guards' helments. **"Buuuuut I'm NOT your fuckin' mommy! No mommies here, fuckers! You make it right!"** The guards laugh and push her away, and she hops back to stand in front of you, bouncing on the balls of her feet. [["So, what are you all doing here?"->WhyParty-Fail]] [[(PASS HARD PERSUASION) "Why are you trying to keep people out so much if this is just a big partaaay?"->WhyParty-Success]]

**"Felling GREAT! Huuuuh? ZIP!"** [["Oh... I'll be heading in, then."->EnterBase]] [[(PASS HARD PERSUASION) "Err, I mean, why are you trying to keep people out so much if this is just a big partaaay?"->WhyParty-Success]]

Hoondoon hums a quick tune and drums her fingers together indecisively. The big man glances in your direction. She speaks more cautiously. **"Ahhh, um, well, you've been nice and I'm the answerer. I'll give you straight-shootin'... Sooooo, we really love to get hopping-happy. Feelgood! But, uh, we didn't always feel good... We were all, uh, not good. We brought others down. Straight down."** She shivers once and twists her hands to her chest as if suddenly cold. The guards have quieted down and are listening to her. **"Buuuut then we came here! Chow! Guns! Walls! All ours! Yup-yup! We were still, uh, downers... Did bad things when we weren't having fun - just trouuuuuu-ble! Pfft!"** The big man stops shuffling, and just seems to be picking random cards from the deck. **"When we got a bunch of drink and chems we partied! GOODTIME! We didn't hurt anyone! Didn't hurt each other! Yip-yip! When we didn't party we were down. Bah! So... PARTY! ALWAYS! ZIP-ZIP-ZIP!"** She bounces, returning to her prior energy. The younger guard chimes in with a quick **"AAAOW!"** while the older stamps a boot on the ground. The big man is still slowly pawing through the deck of cards. **"Only a few traders out here, but the feel-goods make the big trip to make big money off all our army stuff. Gearrrrr and gunnnnnnns for their parrrrrty supliiiiiiies! Mmmm-hmmm! We make 'em safe, show 'em the party, and they always come back!"** **"They gotta be big-time feel-good traders, though, because everyone wants in! Tsk-tsk! Freeloaders - feh! Goodtime friends only! But... But-but-buuuut... We can't let troublemakers in to mess up our goodtimes. It might make us, uh, downers again."** Her eyes shift around, looking at the people in the room. She leans in and speaks in exaggerated seriousness, like letting a child in on a secret. The big man looks away. **"Some of us good-timers know everything is better when the goodtimes are going - even for people outside the party. We want to be sweet! Zip-zip means no trouble! Can't be downers forever - short life like that, feel? We keep the bad times out AND the bad times in."** [["You're doing the right thing for your home. I know what it's like to struggle for stability."->SympathizeParty]] [["You party to avoid hurting people? How cowardly."->InsultParty]]

Hoondoon giggles and the guards snort in amusement. The big man inspects the cards. She rolls her eyes. **"Gee, I think I've heard that from... Everyone here! Mmmm-hmm, even me! That's just being a downer for nothing - a dumb downer. Tsk-tsk. We have so much here, dumb to be anything but sweet! Duuuuh."** She swings her arms towards the inner door. ** "You'll see! MmmmmmmYUP! Do what you gotta do, enjoy the party, and you'll see - GOODTIMES!"** [["Uh... Sure."->EnterBase]]

Hoondoon twists up a confused smile and furrowed brow. If that was a compliment, she doesn't know how to take it. **"I, uh, tsk-tsk... Home. Hummumm... Been in the walls for a couple years, but never thought of it like that. Not REALLY like that. Really straight..."** You chime in after a moment, **"Oh, you talk about it like it's home..."** She steps pensively towards the windows, clapping her hands together in alternating angles like she was flattening dough. **"Mmmmm-hmm... Not just the place to crash, place for chow, place to party, zip-zip... The place with sweet people. Do anything to keep the place..."** She stops in front of a window at the opposite end of the room, but it's too bright to make out what's beyond. She stands with her back to you, hands in front of her, swaying her head from side to side at half-tempo of the music. The big man is watching you out of the corner of his eye. You decide to stay quiet. After a minute she suddenly jumps and spins around, clapping her hands and smiling warmly. She hops towards you. **"I thought you were gettin' me down, but you know what? I'm UP! YESSS-ESS! Sometimes you need to get down to get up higher! Suhhhh-weeeeet!"** (if:$toldStory is 1)[**"The thing you need for home? Army stuff? Computer? Paper?"** You nod. **"Ah-ha-haaa, I can bring you up, I bet suds I know where it is! Bop-bop! It's... Locked up tiiiight, that's where!"** She laughs and butts her fists together. **"In all the old gear and chow there's a door that stayed tight-tight, never got it open! Papers said it was just computers and more papers. Nothing good to sell, no reason to get down trying to open it - feh! Buuuut if it's for your home then you'll open it! Go talk to Tico, he'll show you - tell him for Hoondoon!"** You start to respond, **"Wow, thank-"** before she interrupts in a strikingly adult tone. **"You get in, you take what you can carry, you take what you need to make it right at home. The rest. Is ours."** Her hands are on her hips, her right fingers slowly drumming on the handle of her knife. She smiles. **"Yup-yup?"** (link: "(What if you didn't tell your story?)")[(set:$toldStory to false)(go-to: "SympathizeParty")]](else:)[**"Maybe you can help us? Be sweet? Zip-zip! In all the old gear and chow there's a door that stayed tight-tight, never got it open! No one here good with old stuff. Tsk-tsk, probably just boring computers, but we could always use more old stuff to sell for goodtime supplies. Mmm! Maybe some new eyes will do it? Get it open and we'll party AND pay! Bing-bing!"** It could be the location of the information you need. You start to respond, **"Sure, I'll check-"** before she interrupts. She suddenly sounds serious. **"But it's ours. Don't touch any supplies - our home, our stuff. Just help us and we'll make it right for you."** Her hands are on her hips, her right fingers slowly drumming on the handle of her knife. She smiles. **"Find Tico, he'll show you. Yup-yup?"** (link: "(What if you told your story?)")[(set:$toldStory to true)(go-to: "SympathizeParty")]] [["Yes, of course. Thank you."->EnterBase]]

You step towards the inner door and push it open into blinding sunlight, laughter, and loud rockabilly. Behind you, Hoondoon cackles, **"Ba-haaa, you bear-bastard! Now is my comeback!"** The younger guard starts, **"Listen to this, people paid other people just to clean their shoes?"** --- *<a href="mailto:emilio@neurostyle.net">Contact Emilio</a>*

You thought the guard house sounded full of people, but inside are just the two guards, someone sleeping in a corner with a bored dog nearby, and two people playing cards over a desk. The rockabilly bops in louder through the open windows. The place smells of fresh booze and ancient cigarettes. The guards sit on chairs by the door, where the older one sets about sharpening a knife while the younger flips through an old magazine. They occasionally talk to each other energetically, or at least at each other, about local gossip or pre-war curiosities. You notice a rope tied between the outer door's handle and the younger guard's chair, probably so she can snap the door shut in a moment. Everyone seems to have a gun nearby. You feel a tug of doubt about walking in here. [["Hello..."->MeetLeader]]

Emilio González emilio@neurostyle.net