It's been a "ruff" three weeks. Just a little dog boy humor from ol' Jack. Lemme tell ya, there ain't much to laugh at these days, except maybe Vic's antics, but ol' Jack is gettin' ahead of himself.
As I said, it's been three weeks since the walls came down around Firetown. Firetown... meh, might as well call it Firetown Prison. Things are starting to get bad. People are getting sick, and there isn't a damn thing Doc or any other sawbones can do.
Ol' Jack did his best to rouse the feral dog boys and other rogue animals in Firetown, but his efforts amounted to nuthin'. When the Deadheads dropped the walls around us, they all went into the kennel and now don't wanna come back out. Fine. They don't want to be part of the solution, that's okay with ol' Jack, but he ain't showin' 'em the hole under the fence when we find it either.
We aren't starving in this prison yet, but that ain't gonna hold much longer. The Deadheads make food and water drops every few days, but now the gangs are starting to turn on each other, and it's every burbie for themselves. Fer earned the ire of Vic after the last drop because she didn't pick up the crate he special ordered containing bananas and cream. Don't ask me why he requested those two items specifically, but I don't blame her a bit for not grabbing it. Who knows what else was inside it. I'd rather face a squad of Deadheads than open one of Vic's boxes. On top of all that the D-Bee Brain-Eaters and the Chrome Jackals are working together now. They've carved themselves out a small patch of turf. Rumor has it they are looking out for the people in the turf they claimed, so I guess that's something. I would not want to be those people though when the check comes due.
Oh boy...is he a mixed bag of nuts. Apparently one of his squirrel bots exploded a bit premature, allegedly due to Lizzy, messing around with them and stink bombs in Vic's lab. Lets just say Vic's willy is a bit chafed at the moment, and all of us are paying the price because the only thing he's comfortable wearing at the moment is that damn leopard print thong. Talk about things you never wanted to see. Ol' Jack needs some bleach for his eyes after seeing that, and maybe a scrub brush to use on his brain.
Like ol' Jack said even though we get regular supply drops, things are running low. We long since exhausted what we took from the other floors of the hotel. We heard rumors the market was still open and decided to go do a bit of shopping. Ol' Jack wasn't sure what we'd find, but a Grackletooth and an orge duking it out was not at the top of the list.
A crowd had gathered round to watch the two go at it. Apparently they were fighting because the proprietor of one of the stalls was selling rotten food. A few guys near the gladiators shouted at them blaming the other for the rotten food. Ol' Jack caught a good strong wiff of magic. I don't know what they were doing, but they were messing with the two lugs punching each other to death. Ol' Jack relayed what he had discovered and we decided to cancel the fight. Doc gave some tranquilizers to Vic and Fer, enough to take down the two slabs of meat tenderizing each other. Of course, they didn't use the tranquilizers on the ogre or grackletooth, they used them on the chaps standing guard over a terrified d'norr.
Ol' Jack got into position and tossed a confusion whammy on the combatants. It only worked on the ogre. I guess the grackle was too stupid for it to effect him. Fat lot of good it did the ogre. He blinked his eyes, wondered what the hell was going on, then received a shot between those same eyes from the grackle. It might not have been what ol' Jack planned, but it was enough to mess with the mages calling the shots.
Doc dropped a smoke grenade between them, but the mages were on the edge of it and they just stepped out. Roots erupted out of the ground and wrapped me up like one of those burritos I get from Juan's Taco Truk. Doc got wrapped up too, but he looked more like a puppet dangling from strings.
Fer stepped close to one of the mages who'd trussed me up, and proceeded to make a snack of his magical energy. I almost felt sorry for the guy when he suddenly realized he was out of gas. Doc tried to shake himself loose of the roots holding him and ended up dislocating his arm (1st crit fail of the night). Vic blinded himself when his pistol exploded in his face and doused him with mace (2nd crit fail of the night). The mages decided that they needed to flee, and after grabbing their buddy vanished from sight and appeared a few blocks away.
Ol' Jack was still trussed up. I couldn't move a muscle. Thankfully, ol' Jack don't need muscles. I summoned up my energy and launched a trio of psychic knives at the fleeing baddies. It didn't even scratch em. I knew I should have pumped them up. Fer cut Doc loose and Vic looked for something to rub on his face. Lemme tell you the sight of a grown man in a leopard print thong rubbing dried meat on his face and moaning "oh god, oh god" is not something ol' Jack will ever scrub from his memory. Ol' Jack took one last shot and managed to wing one of the fleeing mages, but that was it. I hate magic.
We had a few hours until sundown so ol' Jack put his nose to use and found where the mages had holed up. It was a cozy little cottage in the middle of a bunch of ramshackle huts. Doc and Fer came with me, while Vic went to recover the shreds of his dignity. I crept up near the house but was spotted by the mages. We high tailed it, not wanting to get caught up in a battle with them at the moment. They stopped chasing us after a bit and returned to the house. The house then vanished. Son-of-a-bitch!.... Have I mentioned I hate magic?
If all that wasn't bad enough some yutz named Overwatch hacked the P.A. system and proceeded to threaten the Deadheads. He told them that they had until midnight to lift the quarantine or he'd launch his countermeasures directly against Chi-Town. I knew right then and there that among his kind, Vic must be completely normal, but to us normal folks, all these hacker types are fucked in the head.
So what does Vic do? He hacks the system, stealing it away from Overwatch, and goes off on a rant of his own. It was clearly a scripted speech because there is no way the infamous DJ Squirrelmaster came up with it on his own. Vic did the same thing, but in a more long-winded fashion. And people say ol' Jack talks too much. This is one time they should have both shut up, because it did exactly what ol' Jack thought it would. It drew the attention of the Deadheads.
The Deadheads regained control of the system and instituted a nightly curfew. Anyone outside after sundown would be summarily shot. Thanks jackasses! You couldn't leave well enough alone. This is gonna put a serious crimper on our escape plans.
A new problem reared it's head as we were heading back to the hotel. Magpie contacted us asking if we'd been to the Top Hat. We said Charlotte had cut us off because she'd gotten caught up in our bullshit again. Magpie asked what happened and we told her about the woman we ran into and showed her the footage. Magpie recognized the woman but told us to forget that for the moment and that we needed to get over to the Top Hat because the Deadheads were on their way.
Fer and Doc turned back toward the Top Hat. Knowing we needed a vehicle fit for carrying more people Ol' Jack scrounged for one. He found a nice pick-up the other gangers must have missed. I hotwired the sucker and peeled away from the shack it was parked next too. It was curious no one came out to stop ol' Jack.
The door of the Top Hat was locked when Doc and Fer arrived. Velya answered and told them to go away. Good thing Fer and Doc were in no mood to take no for an answer. They pushed their way inside. Ol' Jack showed up just after and announced the Top Hat was closed and everyone should get the fuck out. Fer and Doc found Charlotte. She looked bad and sounded even worse. She was showing all the same symptoms as everyone else who'd gotten sick. We loaded everyone up in the truck. Velya insisted on coming along too. As we pulled away we saw another one of those damn Dysgenix trucks. If it hadn't been so close to curfew ol' Jack would have followed it and maybe gotten some answers.
We made it back to the garage and into the hotel just as the last rays of the sun disappeared behind the concrete walls. If we don't find a way out of Firetown soon, or at least find out what the Deadheads are poisoning us with, Fer really is going to lose her sister. None of us have started showing symptoms yet, but Ol' Jack suspects its only a matter of time.
Forget Vic's little revolution party. I say we sneak out after lights out and find where those trucks are goin'. Maybe then we can get some answers as to what's going on. Clearly whatever is going on in here, the Deadheads don't want it getting out. It behooves us to find out what and fast.