Mage: The Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition - Absurd Encounter with Fear Episode 2.3.2
Mage: The Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition Chronicle:
Absurd Encounter with Fear
CAST
Chuck Carver: He's trapped with his old friend Vinnie and trying to get back to LA.
“You picked a helluva time for a reunion, Chuck” Vinnie was pacing the small space inside the submersible, “Those Syndicate assholes think I still owe them money...which I probably do, but I can’t keep track of all this stuff. Those spooks out there are with the Technocracy. We gotta be careful with them. They don’t fuck around when it comes to stopping mystics.”
Chuck began to take it all in, peering out the front viewport to see a far cleaner ocean than he expected to see. This sub must not be located in the marina with Vinnie’s boat; otherwise the normal polution in the marina would make visibility impossible.
“We gotta find a way outa here,” Vinnie said exasperated and pacing.
“We could try sneaking off the boat or trying to distract them long enough to slip into the water without them noticing,” Chuck offered.
“Well...what other choice do we have,” Vinnie opened the hatch slowly, but the moment the locking mechanism was disengaged the hatch flew open, pouring the ocean into the small submersible.
The pair of them teamed up to force the door closed, but couldn’t push back against the oncoming water. Once the sub was filled most of the way close the hatch was easy. Once sealed, Vinnie putted off his tie and began to make very exaggerated and elaborate motions to tie the tie into a knot. Once he pulled the knot tie all of the water from within the submersible began to absorb into the knott. When the last of the water drifted up from the floor to the knot, Vinnie threw open the small bathroom door and threw the knot into the toilet before flushing it out into the sea.
“They sank my fucking boat, man. Fuck man, it wasn’t even mine. I’m only staying on it for a friend of mine who owed me some money from our last poker game,” Vinnie was back to pacing the small space again.
Chuck said nothing and proceeded to search the cockpit of the submersible to looking for anything he could use to learn about starting this thing up and get it moving. He spent hours tracing electrical lines from their buttons to whatever they powered, but eventually he had picked up enough to get the craft started and moving.
Before taking off, Chuck reached out to sense where he had left his sanctum to try to navigate back to it. Staying below the surface for as long as possible, when land approached and he was forced to surface he was greeted with a distant view of the Los Angeles port.
“It looks like we’re out someplace past Catalina, we should be fine to get out here,” Chuck opened the hatch only to have an ocean of water start pouring in again.
With the submersible powered closing the door and draining the water was a matter of a few buttons to press.
“Fuck! That sonuvabitch never told me he had this thing colocated. What the fuck are we gonna do?” Vinnie was starting to sound panicked.
“We’ll need to swim for it,” Chuck said resolutely, “Head up and out and try to make it to the next dock over. Maybe we can make it to the surface without being seen.” He didn’t wait for Vinnie to respond affirmatively and instead threw the switch to open the hatch.
Chuck and Vinnie scrambled out of the sub, through the boat’s wrecked hull, and surfaced slowly a dozen yards away. On Vinnie’s dock they could see that 2 of the 3 Technocratic operatives were gone. Only the muscle bound guy was still there, smashing away at the dock and what little of the boat was still above the water. Chuck and Vinnie climbed onto the dock and hid for a moment. The Technocratic thug was between them and the exit of the dock.
Before Vinnie could stop him, Chuck had hurled one of his chef’s knives at the operative. The knife was deflected off the operative’s skin without so much as leaving a scuff. The operative looked toward them, giving Chuck a glimpse of his eyes for the first time. Their piercing red light was unmistakably not human.
“Don’t stand there gawping at it like a slack jawed yokel. Let’s get the fuck outa here,” Vinnie said pushing and shoving Chuck towards the exit.
Chuck ran, dragging Vinnie behind him, through every shortcut and back alley way there was between the Marina and the metro station. He had one repeating train of thought on his mind get back to LA, get Vinnie to safety, don’t look back. He was finally able to relax when he slipped the key to his truck in the door lock and let the two of them in.
Inside Vinnie surveyed the space, then pulled an ornate silver flask out of his inside vest pocket. Taking a gulp from it, Vinnie closes his eyes and starts running a poker chip over the back of his fingers. A moment or two later, he opens his eyes makes a quick phone call on a nearby payphone where he says something along the lines of: "It's me, long time, I know. I know. I'm sorry. Yeah I need a ride. I'd love to make it up to you. I'll be at this intersection."
He thanked Chuck for helping him get out of the jam and offers him a poker chip, "Take this, I don't have a cellphone. I don't like leaving trails, but that's been mine for years. If you reach out with your mind you can all out to me. I've got people I can stay with, but I'm around if you need me. I still think you would have made an amazing grifter given the chance."
Shortly after that a perfectly maintained 1966 deep blue Lincoln Continental shows up and Vinnie hops in the back seat with someone and it drives off. The windows were tinted and too difficult to see through to recognize the driver or the other passenger. Chuck didn’t let it linger in his mind and proceeded to begin his prep for the evening rush. He hadn’t been working for more than a few minutes when there was a knock at the closed ordering window in the side of the truck.
Chuck opened the window, “Sorry, not open for another 30 minutes. You can come back then if you want.”
The person standing in front of him had dark pants, a black turtleneck, thick framed glasses, and his hair was slicked back, “Hello, The Grand Director Reid Wind has stated that your presence is required at his theater this evening. I am to bring you there immediately.”
From the look on his face, Chuck could tell this pretentious film student was not prepared to take no for an answer. Chuck sighed, put his prep in the fridge and locked up the truck.
“Let’s go see what that guy wanted,” Chuck said as he indicated with his hand that the Reidwinder should lead the way.
“You picked a helluva time for a reunion, Chuck” Vinnie was pacing the small space inside the submersible, “Those Syndicate assholes think I still owe them money...which I probably do, but I can’t keep track of all this stuff. Those spooks out there are with the Technocracy. We gotta be careful with them. They don’t fuck around when it comes to stopping mystics.”
Chuck began to take it all in, peering out the front viewport to see a far cleaner ocean than he expected to see. This sub must not be located in the marina with Vinnie’s boat; otherwise the normal polution in the marina would make visibility impossible.
“We gotta find a way outa here,” Vinnie said exasperated and pacing.
“We could try sneaking off the boat or trying to distract them long enough to slip into the water without them noticing,” Chuck offered.
“Well...what other choice do we have,” Vinnie opened the hatch slowly, but the moment the locking mechanism was disengaged the hatch flew open, pouring the ocean into the small submersible.
The pair of them teamed up to force the door closed, but couldn’t push back against the oncoming water. Once the sub was filled most of the way close the hatch was easy. Once sealed, Vinnie putted off his tie and began to make very exaggerated and elaborate motions to tie the tie into a knot. Once he pulled the knot tie all of the water from within the submersible began to absorb into the knott. When the last of the water drifted up from the floor to the knot, Vinnie threw open the small bathroom door and threw the knot into the toilet before flushing it out into the sea.
“They sank my fucking boat, man. Fuck man, it wasn’t even mine. I’m only staying on it for a friend of mine who owed me some money from our last poker game,” Vinnie was back to pacing the small space again.
Chuck said nothing and proceeded to search the cockpit of the submersible to looking for anything he could use to learn about starting this thing up and get it moving. He spent hours tracing electrical lines from their buttons to whatever they powered, but eventually he had picked up enough to get the craft started and moving.
Before taking off, Chuck reached out to sense where he had left his sanctum to try to navigate back to it. Staying below the surface for as long as possible, when land approached and he was forced to surface he was greeted with a distant view of the Los Angeles port.
“It looks like we’re out someplace past Catalina, we should be fine to get out here,” Chuck opened the hatch only to have an ocean of water start pouring in again.
With the submersible powered closing the door and draining the water was a matter of a few buttons to press.
“Fuck! That sonuvabitch never told me he had this thing colocated. What the fuck are we gonna do?” Vinnie was starting to sound panicked.
“We’ll need to swim for it,” Chuck said resolutely, “Head up and out and try to make it to the next dock over. Maybe we can make it to the surface without being seen.” He didn’t wait for Vinnie to respond affirmatively and instead threw the switch to open the hatch.
Chuck and Vinnie scrambled out of the sub, through the boat’s wrecked hull, and surfaced slowly a dozen yards away. On Vinnie’s dock they could see that 2 of the 3 Technocratic operatives were gone. Only the muscle bound guy was still there, smashing away at the dock and what little of the boat was still above the water. Chuck and Vinnie climbed onto the dock and hid for a moment. The Technocratic thug was between them and the exit of the dock.
Before Vinnie could stop him, Chuck had hurled one of his chef’s knives at the operative. The knife was deflected off the operative’s skin without so much as leaving a scuff. The operative looked toward them, giving Chuck a glimpse of his eyes for the first time. Their piercing red light was unmistakably not human.
“Don’t stand there gawping at it like a slack jawed yokel. Let’s get the fuck outa here,” Vinnie said pushing and shoving Chuck towards the exit.
Chuck ran, dragging Vinnie behind him, through every shortcut and back alley way there was between the Marina and the metro station. He had one repeating train of thought on his mind get back to LA, get Vinnie to safety, don’t look back. He was finally able to relax when he slipped the key to his truck in the door lock and let the two of them in.
Inside Vinnie surveyed the space, then pulled an ornate silver flask out of his inside vest pocket. Taking a gulp from it, Vinnie closes his eyes and starts running a poker chip over the back of his fingers. A moment or two later, he opens his eyes makes a quick phone call on a nearby payphone where he says something along the lines of: "It's me, long time, I know. I know. I'm sorry. Yeah I need a ride. I'd love to make it up to you. I'll be at this intersection."
He thanked Chuck for helping him get out of the jam and offers him a poker chip, "Take this, I don't have a cellphone. I don't like leaving trails, but that's been mine for years. If you reach out with your mind you can all out to me. I've got people I can stay with, but I'm around if you need me. I still think you would have made an amazing grifter given the chance."
Shortly after that a perfectly maintained 1966 deep blue Lincoln Continental shows up and Vinnie hops in the back seat with someone and it drives off. The windows were tinted and too difficult to see through to recognize the driver or the other passenger. Chuck didn’t let it linger in his mind and proceeded to begin his prep for the evening rush. He hadn’t been working for more than a few minutes when there was a knock at the closed ordering window in the side of the truck.
Chuck opened the window, “Sorry, not open for another 30 minutes. You can come back then if you want.”
The person standing in front of him had dark pants, a black turtleneck, thick framed glasses, and his hair was slicked back, “Hello, The Grand Director Reid Wind has stated that your presence is required at his theater this evening. I am to bring you there immediately.”
From the look on his face, Chuck could tell this pretentious film student was not prepared to take no for an answer. Chuck sighed, put his prep in the fridge and locked up the truck.
“Let’s go see what that guy wanted,” Chuck said as he indicated with his hand that the Reidwinder should lead the way.
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