Lanisal gets dropped into a bad time on Cloudbank
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"I don't know! This was Rachel's idea and now she's been shot!"

"Stop, Cleo! Stop! We gotta see how bad it is."

They set Rachel down. The prognosis is: "Fuck. She's dying. The shot cut her jugular."

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That makes this alliance awfully precarious. Lanisal waits.

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"Is there anything we can do to save her?"

Tim shakes his head. "Maybe, maybe if we stuck her into some lost tech doctor thing she could survive... But we don't have that. All we can do is say goodbye. Maybe... Make it faster. Painless."

"Fuck... Fuck. She'd want a mercy kill, wouldn't she... Goodbye, Rachel." Rachel tries to say something, fails, shakes her head weakly instead and looks at Lanisal. Cleo says, "Lanisal, can you...?"

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"Make it faster? Yes."

She hesitates but not long.

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Rachel's three family members are going to mourn her for a while now. Nobody seems to be chasing or bothering them, at least.

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She looks around, in case someone takes this moment to jump out at them, but stays there and stays quiet.

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Nothing jumps out at them or attacks them.

 

 

"We should cremate her."

"...Well, the fires are still burning in the Garden District."

"We should focus on ourselves," the mostly-silent John says. "She'd want us to be safe, right?"

The others don't respond.

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"Who were the people blocking our way?"

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"Probably pirates."

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"Why were they doing that?"

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"Hell should I know? I guess everything's gone to hell enough that you shoot anyone who seems like they could disappear you in an instant! You're damn lucky Rachel was a prideful bitch, you know, or you'd be dead."

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"I am. Well, we can't make it to a ship without a fight we might lose. I might be more of a liability than an asset for you if people are going to be that afraid. I don't know what to do now."

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"...I'm not sure if we've got better odds of getting on a ship alive or riding this whole mess out alive now to be honest."

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"I want to try the second."

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"Well, good for you. I want to go back to our shop and mourn."

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"Is that an invitation or do we part ways here?"

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"I don't fucking care."

"Jeff. Don't provoke her."

"...I don't- Look, we'll give you a little advice. You're not - no bad faith here. But then we part ways."

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"Of course. I understand."

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"So. What do you want to know about this place?"

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"What are the major political factions?"

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"The Bonnies are the previous ruling class, rich salveowners. The revolting slaves are a faction, the loads of pirates wanting to loot the place probably fucking count, police and the militia and other rough types might be considered a faction and probably aligned with the Bonnies, then you've got the free but middle class or poor who probably mostly just want food and safety, uh... I think there was something about the Bonnies splitting into 'go easy on the slaves' and 'we can't afford that' groups..."

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"Yeah, well. Goodbye. Let's go find somewhere to burn Rachel, guys."

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She goes wandering and looks around.

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She's in a slightly nicer but still mostly abandoned part of the city. One of the shops is even still open, some kind of general store. There's a big sign that says 'STILL OPEN - SURRENDER WEAPONS AT DOOR'.

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