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Animal Whip (IC)


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John tapped the button to end the call.


He swore.

 

Then he swore again.

 

He found the barrels, he assumed they were full of illegal substances. The weird gorilla formula.

 

He would have to find the people responsible for this, maybe shake them down for information on who they got the chemical from. So he snuck off looking for a boss's trailer or office, hoping to have a chat with them.

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GM

 

The EPA phone was one of those "yes... in the fullness of time..." feigned interest and concern overlaid across a tired and cynical night operator. Not cruel, not malicious, but someone drowning in paperwork. John had the feeling that his worried were on a waiting list. 

 

But the night was young. 

 

There was a clear trailer that had "ringmaster" written all over it. Not as drab or chipped as the others, painted gold, larger. It was surely the best candidate for the mastermind of the circus. 

 

From the outside, he couldn't determine if someone was in, or not. 

 

The door was locked - but a relatively cheap one. 

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GM

 

The Lock was there. Cheap, a bit rusty, but servicable. A half skilled lockpick could have it open in a few minutes, by John's estimation. The security in the circus, such as it was, seemed to be sufficient to keep out drunkards and petty thieves. Anyone else? Well, either the Circus had nothing valuable, or was relying on the sleeping tigers to raise the alarm. Probably both. 

 

Even the windows were only covered by tattered net curtains. Peering in - well, the inside was dark, but John could see a sleeping figure under patchwork blankets. A ringmasters hat on a hatstand. A whip, a red jacket. Everything inside cheap and second hand. 

 

If this was the Ringmaster's trailer, then the rest of the troupe would be living in borderline squalor. Had the circus fallen on hard times, or had they spent all their money?

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John pulled a lockpick out of his pocket and worked at it for a second. It took less than a minute for him to simply unlock it and open it. After that, he opened the door as quietly as he could, and snuck inside to have a 'conversation' with the ringmaster.

 

He glared at the sleeping man, and stalked towards him as quietly as he could.

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GM

 

The Tattered Man was as quiet as a mouse. A dead mouse, wearing slippers. 

 

Was it bad luck? Or just some sixth sense. 

 

The figure in bed woke up with a start, bolt upright, eyes wide like billiard balls. 

 

A Ringmaster? No, a Ringmistress!

 

A woman!

 

She had long, messy hair. A beautiful face, once, marked by a livid scar which made her mysterious, ugly, and attractive all at once. She was dressed in undergarments; patchwork, like her bed quilt. 

 

"Who are you!" she blazed, one finger stretched out to John. She had a smallish frame, but the Tattered Man could see calloused palms and wiry strength forged into strong bones. 

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John was on top of her in seconds.

 

"I found your chemicals. It's making people sick. I don't think you want to hurt people, do you?" He was growling in a low voice. He needed to talk to this woman. 

 

He loomed over her, staring down at her. If she moved in the wrong way, he could snatch her up and run away, talking to her away from the circus.

 

He was cautious by default, and cursed his luck that this woman woke up so suddenly.

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GM
 

"Wait... who are you?" asked the Ringmistress. 

 

She studied him carefully in the dim light of the moon. 

 

"You... you are the Tattered Man, aren't you?" she asked. "I've heard of you. I learn all I can about a town, a city. All the myths, all the legends. And Bedlam has more than its fair share. The Tattered Man, stalker of the night. Hero of Bedlam, whatever that means. But none of that really answers the question. Who is the Tattered Man? Who are you, really?"

 

She curled up the bedclothes over her body, leaving a provocative show of thigh. The Ringmistress was no beauty, not with that scar running over her face, but nonetheless she had some charismatic allure. And she was trying to seduce John Smith!

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  • 2 weeks later...

"I am who I am." He said. "And you've caused a lot of chaos in the city tonight." 

 

He narrowed his eyes and growled. "Where did you get that chemical."

 

In the dark, he looked bigger than he actually was. If anyone actually got a good look at him, he was a relatively short man in good shape instead of a towering menace.

 

The coat certainly helped, with the way the ragged bottom of it fluttered in the wind. 

 

Half of doing what he did was theatrics. The rest was brute force.

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GM

 

The Ringmistress drew her bedsheets closer to her skin, curling up like a baby. 

 

"The chemical? You saw it? We bought it. From some smugglers down south... I didn't ask where it came from, I just heard it had this particular quality."

 

She peered at the Tattered Man carefully. 

 

"You know Bedlam, right? Everyone here is an animal already. We just made it honest. At least animals dont pretend to be civilised. This whole place should return to the jungle. Pffft!" she spat. "I've seen more brutality here than in ten life times. Where do you think I got this scar?" she asked, pointing to her face. 

 

"And that's just the scar on the inside. The ones in my heart... they...." she grew a tear. "Well, you dont look like the man who would care about a woman's heart. But you do seek vengeance, dont you? Vengeance on who? I can help...."

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  • 3 weeks later...

"I'm not interested in what you have to offer. And, yes, Bedlam is a brutal place. I do what I can, but random gorilla people does not help with that."

 

He turned to leave. The right people knew, an agency that might actually help. Maybe, he thought, he should find the chemical and dispose of some of it somehow. Or not. He wasn't exactly trained for that. He headed out of the trailer.

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GM

 

The Tattered Man heard some rapid scuffling activity as he left the trailer - the Ringmistress, propelled into action. 

 

He had gone maybe two dozen yards from the trailer, nearly by the barrels of Ape-Juice, when he heard the trailer door spring open. 

 

The Ringmistress, half dressed in Ringmaster clothes, whip in hand. One boot on, one barefoot. A patchwork red jacket and bare legs. A magnificent top hat - the only item of clothing that looked new and quality - sat lopsided on her messy brown hair. 

 

She cracked the whip. 

 

"Tattered Man! The Circus is in town! And we will be performing whether you like it or not! Bedlam is in for some monkey business, and you aren't going to stop us!"

 

The whip cracked again. 

 

"One more step and I will set the animals upon you!"

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  • 2 weeks later...

John paused for just a moment, but didn't turn around.


Whatever she had wasn't as fast as he was. If things got rough, he could always just flee. However, his pride overreached his intelligence. He should have just taken off, but he didn't want to. He didn't want to just run off. He was willing to fight if he needed to. He shouldn't, and he knew it, but he wasn't going to just run.

 

Plus, he rationalized. He had no idea when the EPA might show up, if they showed up. he needed to be able to slow them down before they skipped town. Even if all that meant was that they were a bit too bruised to leave yet.

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Posted (edited)

GM

 

The Ringmistress smiled... a nuanced, cunning smile. But at the same time, her eyes were damp. Her make up was old, already smudged and cracked. It was running. Just a little. 

 

"You interest me, Tattered man..." she started. 

 

A little shuffle forward. 

 

"You are something between a devil and an angel. A bit of both. A rag, tossed in the winds of fortune. Broken? I know broken..."

 

She tentatively reached out a hand. 

 

"Come with me. Together we can tear down this filthy city. Maybe build something good on its broken remains? What say you?"

 

The whip flickered, just a little. 

 

"Are you not... tempted?"

 

A half smile. 

 

"You want to destroy, don't you? Come let us destroy. Whatever you wish. I could be a hero, a demon, and both. By your side. Or I can set my beasts on you. And tear you apart, like the tattered rag you are. That would be... sad...."

 

in the cages to the side - the Tattered Man could see a panther, a bear, and even an elephant. Maybe more elsewhere... probably some horses. 

 

And two dark green barrels, sealed, filled to the brim with that ape-making fluid!

Edited by Supercape
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