Adventures Through the Breach (Private)

[Sophos]

The Southern Slums are a haven for the lost and forgotten of Malifaux City, those people who have fallen upon hard times and aren't likely to get back up anytime soon. The wretched people who call the slums their home – people such as yourselves – primarily live in whatever decaying buildings they can lay claim to and keep. It's not an easy life, and the mortality rate is high, but it's still a step above living in the Quarantine Zone with the monsters and undead that lurk beyond the Guild's high walls. There's not much hope in the Southern Slums, but sometimes, the faintest candle shines brightest in the darkest shadows. There have been rumors of a Miners and Steamfitters Union boss who has been making the rounds through the slums, offering honest pay for an honest day's work. There aren't many opportunities to make scrip when you're at the bottom, but this man might just might be your ticket out of the slums for good.

The arrival of the Union boss draws a crowd of would-be workers from the slums, all of them in torn or worn clothing that has been patched up one too many times. The crowd's mood seems to be somewhere between eager and wary as the Union boss raises his arms and bids everyone to be quiet. He's dressed in a business suit that looks a bit too tight for him, complete with suspenders and a vest. Two men in long dusters flank him, neither of them making any effort to hide the pistols on their gun belts.
“Some of you know me,” the Union boss shouts, his voice carrying across the crowd. “For those of you who don't, my name is Yelp, Theodore Yelp. I'm with the Union, and the Union needs good workers. And you folks sure look like you could use a paying job.”
A man in a checkered cap speaks up. “Yeah? What's the work?”
Yelp turns to face the man, but when he speaks, he addresses the entire crowd. “We've got a building in the Quarantine Zone that needs some clearing out and fixing up.” When murmurs begin to pass through the crowd, he raises his voice to drown them out. “Yes, the Quarantine Zone is a dangerous place, but we're offering a good rate to make up for it. One scrip per able body for a day of honest work.”
A woman in a dirty gray dress steps forward, her brow creased in a scowl. “I've heard your offer before, Mr. Yelp! My husband done took you up on it, and he never returned. That was two weeks ago, and you're still back every few days looking for more workers.”
Yelp gives her a sympathetic look. “As I said, my dear lady, it's dangerous work. We're not pretending otherwise.” His smile returns as he looks back to the crowd. “But it is paying work. Now, who wants to prove their worth to the Union and earn some scrip while doing so?”
The crowd breaks apart amidst grumblings about “nothing being worth going into the Quarantine Zone” and “can't spend the money if you're dead.” While these sorts of grumblings may be ominous, it's clear that the people making them are still giving the offer a bit of consideration.

 

[Graystone713]

Things changed. But not everything. Lloyd might've been a dead man walking, but he knew how to recognize easy Scrip. He could go and 'clean up' a building undoubtedly loaded with undead more horrifying than he, or... He could wait until the man left his high platform and rob him blind. Killing two (admittedly nicely armed) guards was easier than killing a swarm of undead, plague rats, or worse. Besides, at least one man died over on that side of the wall trying his hand at this, and much as he wasn't scared to die, he still remembered it being an awful experience. If his neck snapped up there, maybe it wouldn't have been so bad. He ended up strangled by that noose. Never again, he'd sworn. But that didn't mean hiding or laying low. It just meant waiting for his chance... What he wouldn't give for something to smoke while he waited for Mr. Yelp to finish up on that damnable stage. But Mr. Yelp would finish soon, and his entourage would walk back to the alleys, and Powder Keg would start back where he began: Mugging honest folk. At least this time, he was more likely to end up with the guild's envelope of Scrip, rather than an honest man's paycheck. So he stayed at the crowd's edge, a wide-brimmed hat hiding his eyes, while his bandanna covered his ropeburned neck. A rawhide duster concealed his carbine, and gloves cut from the same hid his hands.
"Eventually... He'll move on."
he said, half-whispering to himself. He was trying to get used to talking again. His throat didn't feel right, and he was partly convinced that the gearworks in his chest were responsible. Heck, maybe his voice was mechanized now. Couldn't be more surprising than waking up belted to a table in a shed.

 

[wickedlittlecritta]

Humans were baffling creatures, and even after a month or so in the city, Rooster mostly had no idea what they were about. The man in the vest and the crowd around him today were no different. Mostly talk. The man in the vest--Yelp--seemed to be somebody important, but he wasn't even wearing a hat, so Rooster figured he couldn't be that important. Rooster even had a hat, and nobody listened to him! His opinion was solidified the second the crowd started back sassing him, which never would have happened to a real big hat.
But he was offering Scrip, and getting that was hard and important. They didn't barter here like they did back home, and even if they did, Rooster didn't have much to barter with. He wasn't completely sure exactly what the job was--"cleaning" and "fixing" were words that seemed to have a lot of meanings--but Rooster did know what it being in the Quarantine Zone meant. It didn't trouble him the way it did the folks who'd lived in Malifaux all their lives. They talked about the Bayou in more or less the same way, so he figured they were just all a little pathetic.
Still, he'd been taken for a sucker more than he'd like to admit, since coming to Malifaux City, so Rooster decided to stay put and watch a moment longer, on his very good perch on somebody's roof. He was hard to miss, being both high up and wearing a jacket made out of clashing scraps of different shades of purple cloth inexpertly sewn together. Parts of the jacket were older than he was, and Rooster was very proud of it.

 

[Goblin Society]

Li was returning to their room in a tenement with their dinner - mostly eggs, why were eggs so cheap here? - when they passed through the square, Yelp's speech catching their attention. Li hadn't seen this man around the union offices before, and that's where they'd been spending all their time since he showed up. Which could mean he had just come from out of town, but, it was more likely to mean that he was an infiltrator. A counterrevolutionary, working for the Guild? Resurrectionists looking for a fresh supply of corpses? Fairy abductors? Li dropped their bag of groceries - after all, eggs were so cheap - but kept their bow in its wooden case and started winding their way through the crowd, pulling their M&SU membership card from inside their coat.

"Mr. Yelp! Good to see you here. Li Faicheng, Malifaux City M&SU Local One, membership number 514. Certified organizer and worksite safety inspector." Their English was London-accented, and with the precision of someone who was making a deliberate effort to speak. "I'm sure you wouldn't mind if I came along? Put some minds at ease. Ensure everyone comes home with fair pay for fair work."

Li's posture and voice radiated excitement, and they seemed positively pleased about the idea of going into the Quarantine Zone. And, if this was a legitimate job with actual pay from out of town, they'd be excited. If not, well. They grew up in the Ten Thunders, and Yelp wouldn't be the first impostor they'd put an arrow through.

 

[Sophos]

Yelp looks you up and down apprehensively, before nodding. “Oh, yes, that should be just fine.” He takes a moment to wait for any further volunteers, and flips open a notebook and scribbles a few words on the first open page. Noticing a new union worker apparently vetting Yelp's work, a few of the people in the crowd who seemed uncertain at first now approach Yelp to sign on to help.
"Good, good. Plenty of work to go around, ladies and gentlemen! Don't be shy, we'll take all sorts!" Yelp shouts to the remaining crowd as he notes down names of people signing on to work.

 

[Graystone713]

Well, this was a bit of a development. Just when it seemed like Yelp would leave here almost empty-handed, someone pushed through the crowd. Another Union-type. Even though her signing on got people to start signing up, he didn't want her there... It wasn't whatever was in that case (almost certainly some kind of longarm, or perhaps a set of dueling pistols) because he didn't seem to fear for his life... He was afraid of getting caught. Now that was telling. Yelp probably wasn't on the level, then. So, whatever he was up to, this 'Li' was bound to expose him. And when she did, something told Lloyd that Mr. Yelp wouldn't be long for this world. The wooden case, and the way she carried herself... She seemed like a killer. For some reason Lloyd had yet to pinpoint, she seemed more dangerous than the guards with the fancy sixguns. Why?... Well, he'd have to work fast. Li would find out fairly quickly, and Lloyd was sure that Yelp had some serious scrip tied into whatever this operation really was. Meaning that if he wanted to get in, get the cash, and bail before Li dismantled the operation, He'd have to get involved fast. So, Lloyd joined the surge of people moving up to sign in. And once his turn came up, he moved fast, grabbing Yelp's hand in one hand, tilting his hat back, and grabbing the pen with the other.

"Mister Yelp, I imagine it's been some time since you've seen me about! We should talk about this new venture of yours, in private, before we get underway. After all, these opportunities don't last long, eh? But-but don't let me keep you, you've got a lotta signatures to take!"

He said, leaving Yelp no time to intelligently reply as he signed a false name onto the sheet and faded into the crowd. The sheet would say his name was Ned Kelly. The clear look at his face Yelp got would've readily identified him as Lloyd Hext, the Powderkeg. He'd hoped his message was clear, and he certainly hoped that Yelp wouldn't risk having his guards arrest him. Who knew? maybe Yelp would recognize that a criminal ally could help him... Not that Lloyd actually would.

 

[wickedlittlecritta]

Rooster watched everything, rolling the possibilities of action and inaction around in his mind like marbles in his hand. In the end, it was a small enough choice. Action meant something new an interesting, and inaction just meant more of what he'd been doing since coming to the city. He slid off of the rooftop and went to add his name to the list, though his signature was just a rough scrawl, as he'd never properly learned to write.

 

[Sophos]

Yelp doesn't seem to recognize Lloyd. Whether he just genuinely has never seen the wanted posters, or whether he's just good at masking surprise, Lloyd is unsure. Once he has enough names, he flips his notebook shut, and tucks it into his shirt pocket. “Good, good. I always appreciate efficiency when I see it.” He motions down the street. “I'll give you a few moments to change into any work clothes you might have. Meet me down the street when you're ready, but don't be tardy for your first day on the job.”

Yelp has no sooner left the crowd behind than the woman in the dirty gray dress approaches Li.
“You can't trust that man,” she whispers, her tone insistent. “Nobody ever comes back from his jobs. He says they get killed in accidents or get shipped north to work in some mining town for the Union, but ain't none of them ever seen again.” She casts a glance back at Yelp, only to find him glaring right at her. Her eyes widen and she quickly retreats into a nearby crumbling building.

 

[Graystone713]

Okay, Lloyd couldn’t ignore THAT. A man undead was no everyday occurrence, and even in the quarantine zone if one grabbed you like that, you wouldn’t just let it happen and scarcely react. Even the ballsiest man alive would show some emotion, even if said emotion was rage. Either Yelp was dead, inhuman, or a soulless shell of a man.

Lloyd juggled it in his head. If he followed Yelp and played along, he was a dead man. He couldn’t threaten Yelp with his carbine without alerting the crowd. Slipping away meant being hunted down later. If he shot Yelp, the guards would gun him down. If he shot the guards, Li would shoot him... But whatever gun was in that case would take time to draw and aim, even if it was loaded and cocked. He had one shot at this, one bullet loaded for each guard, and only seconds to reload and rush Yelp. Hopefully it would be enough time to get Yelp in a hold and use him as a shield until all of Lloyd’s questions were answered. He breathed, air moving in and out of his wrong-feeling lungs. He stopped.

Swift motion, the carbine being drawn, a shot crying out, and a body hitting the pavers. One guard down. People began screaming, running for cover and safety. A second shot rang out, but the only thing to hit the ground was a hat. Lloyd wouldn't be able to reload in time. The other man would draw, the other unionite would unbox her weapon, and he would be filled with lead. This was going to hurt.

 

[Sophos]

Yelp did exactly like his name implied, and let out a shrill yell.
"Cover me, you fool!" He shouted to his guard, covering his head as he started to flee through the alleys of the slums.
The burly guard looked from the prone body of his companion, to his fleeing boss, and drew a large gun before firing at Lloyd, uncaring whether or not he hit the rapidly dispersing crowd.