Chương 402: Book Eight, Chapter 69: Antoine Stone and the Sunken Cradle Part II

I didn't sleep well that night, even after using Out Like a Light. I had nightmares. That wasn't supposed to happen. I'd expected a dreamless sleep, but instead I saw darkness, endless, timeless darkness. Whatever else happened in the dream, I didn't remember when I woke up, but I had never been so thankful for morning than I was when I realized I wasn't dreaming anymore. I wasn't the only one. The others feared what lay ahead for us.

It was going to be difficult, there was no doubt, but we headed into it with the same mindset we always had. We never gave in to our fear. We never allowed ourselves to meditate on it, to focus on it, or to give it any weight at all, because if we did, we knew it would win, and that was no way to enter a storyline. It was a pragmatic approach. It didn't mean the fears were wrong. We hunted around to find the supplies Antoine would use for his costume. It wasn't so difficult.

The Speakeasy was full of rough-and-tumble adventurers, so to speak. In the end, we found him a proper Indiana Jones-style hat, with a shirt and pants to match. He also used the grappling hook with the trope So Anyway attached, which would allow him great feats of Hustle while using the grappling hook as long as he was acting casual and talking while using it. He had a gun that he had pulled off of one bad guy or another. I thought it might be someone from KRSL. It didn't have any bullets, but that was no problem.

Even with the weapons depot blown up, there were no fewer than three arms dealers drinking at the Speakeasy who were willing to barter. That was all we could find. No proper satchel, but he did have the camera bag with the Lucky Bulletproof Souvenir trope. He had no adventuring shoes, but he would just have to find those in the storyline. The rest of us made do. It was a quiet morning, so many things unsaid. When it came time to trigger the storyline, even Antoine wasn't able to muster a pep talk.

We all walked down to the water while NPCs and paragons watched us. Antoine carried the letter from his rival carefully, and as soon as we all stepped on the boat and unhooked from the dock... The storyline had begun. The needle on the plot cycle switched from choice to party, and everything around me changed. - Riley Lawrence is The Film Buff His aspect is Filmmaker.

The Filmmaker understands how movies are made and uses meta-Insight and meta-Rule tropes to subtly manipulate the environment, relying on high Hustle to stay unseen while shaping the story behind the scenes. Riley has a Plot Armor score of 48, Mettle of 4, Moxie of 13, Hustle of 8, Savvy of 16, and Grit of 7. Free Background Trope:"My Grandmother Had the Gift…" A background trope that gives Riley's character some ambiguous connection to "The Gift" through his heritage.

Current Trope Limit: 10"Trope Master" grants him the ability to perceive enemy tropes, but at the cost of sacrificing half of his Plot Armor. As an"Oblivious Bystander," Riley remains untargeted by enemies as he convincingly acts oblivious to their presence.

"Escape Artist" buffs his Hustle to help enact plausible escape plans.

"The Insert Shot" makes allies aware of an object the player chooses. The object will be shown to the audience and its use will be buffed in the Finale." Cutaway Death" sends him Off-Screen before the moment of his character's implied demise and allows him to exist behind the scenes, as if Written Off if he survives the encounter." Call Sheet" gives him a timer for when he will be On-Screen next.

"Raised by Television" buffs the user to do one big meaningful action if they establish their inspiration from film and television to establish it.

"Intermission" Grants Deathwatch at his demise and allows them to pause their viewing of the film for a break and start back a few moments earlier." It's Just a Puppet" reduces fear when confronting something perceptibly terrifying.

"No Stab In The Dark" reduces the narrative impact of anything that happens in low visibility, where the audience cannot see it. ~ Camden Tran is The Scholar No aspect has been chosen. Camden has a Plot Armor score of 39, Mettle of 5, Moxie of 3, Hustle of 9, Savvy of 17, and Grit of 5. Current Trope Limit: 10" Eureka!" helps him find important information within text." Right Tool for the Job" buffs Savvy and Mettle when fighting an enemy with their weakness."

Zippos are Cheap" boosts Savvy for plans that expend a Zippo lighter." Hide and Seek" allows him to use Savvy for Hustle in a chase with lots of hiding involved." Photographic Memory" allows him to display visual information committed to memory on the red wallpaper and recall information he has seen, even if he didn't focus on it." Battlefield Intuition" allows him to use Savvy to perceive enemy combat tactics."

Red Thread Theory" gives the user a visual summary of known information and helps them know what threads to follow next.

"Chain Reaction" buffs an attack for each link in the cause-and-effect chain leading to the ultimate damage of the attack.

"Trap Montage" allows the player to initiate a montage wherein they and allies rig traps in the finale without disturbance from enemies.

"Sweat, Blood, and Chalk" buffs his Savvy and Grit when he is Scathed, Hobbled, or Mutilated. ~ Antoine Stone is the Adventurer. The Adventurer Advanced Archetype transforms the story into an expedition, emphasizing physical feats and academic intrigue. His base Archetype is Athlete. His aspect is Health Nut. Antoine has a Plot Armor score of 44, Mettle of 13, Moxie of 4, Hustle of 9, Savvy of 8, and Grit of 10.

Free Background Trope: -- Current Trope Limit: 10"Gym Rat" buffs Mettle and Hustle by revealing an athletic backstory. Brandishing a weapon is"Like a Security Blanket," buffing his Grit and soothing his and his allies' fear." Fight or Flight" buffs Mettle if escape is not possible or Hustle if victory is not possible. Buffs Mettle if neither is possible." The Mountain as a Metaphor" boosts allies' uses of Grit and Savvy and allows the user to conquer maladies through metaphor by tackling physical challenges."

Calm in the Chaos" allows the user to channel Savvy into their next physical feat through a slowed-down shot of them planning things out On-Screen. Time will appear to slow down while planning.

"Gut Instinct" gives him a heads up about nearby danger both in and out of storylines, though he may have to investigate to find the source.

"Willpower is Magic" ensures all applicable enemy technology or magic is now resistible through sheer effort. Results vary. Effects vary. This will hurt.

"Museum Detour" provides the user with character-appropriate knowledge as they make discoveries and findings in proportion to the difficulty in getting there.

"Sentimental Outfitting" allows him to carry anything an explorer might use into a storyline and slowly increases the narrative weight of each item as his bond with the item is established.

"The Intrepid Guide Who Knows The Way" allows him to hire an NPC companion as a guide. ~ Cassie Hughes is the Psychic Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. No aspect has been chosen. Cassie has a Plot Armor score of 35, Mettle of 3, Moxie of 15, Hustle of 9, Savvy of 6, and Grit of 2. Current Trope Limit: 10"We are not abandoned…" can keep her allies' spirits high by weaving a narrative of some higher power in control.

When done well, this trope can heal Incapacitation, certain forms of spiritual Infection, and even buff Grit.

"Clarity of Purpose" lets the user substitute Moxie for Grit when enduring tasks that cause constant pain, like handling dangerous objects.

"The Anguish" lets her see her allies' health stats from anywhere and lets her take some of their pain by feeling it herself. This can reduce their overall injuries.

"It's Speaking to Me…" lets the user detect vibes and weak visions from evil or supernatural objects, which become important if attention is drawn to them." Empathic Shield" buffs an imperiled ally's Grit by expressing genuine concern for them On-Screen.

"Wards of Affection" allows her to gift allies totems of spiritual protection.

"It is Written" codifies all spiritual or similar information in some kind of text that the user will have access to and gives them information accurate to their character.

"Undying Words" allows her to declare a prophecy at death, which will become true in some form later in the movie.

"Get Up!" makes it so that the user or allies will receive messages from the dead when near death, providing a range of effects from insight, to buffs, to healing.

"Soul Read" provides the user with unearned information, continuing until they fail to utilize it in the narrative. ~ Anna Reed is the Final Girl Her aspect is Girl Next Door. The Girl Next Door is a genuine, relatable emotional anchor whose high Moxie and Grit fuel connection, resilience, and quiet strength that protects others and uncovers unexpected solutions. Anna has a Plot Armor score of 38, Mettle of 10, Moxie of 12, Hustle of 6, Savvy of 3, and Grit of 7.

Free Background Trope: -- Current Trope Limit: 10"Last One Alive" prevents death until the rest of the party is killed.

"Who's With Me?!" buffs allies' efforts during the finale.

"Let's Not Fight" buffs allies Savvy when she defuses infighting.

"The Heart" allows her to end the game when she is the last one alive and to participate in her own rescue. Buffs those who protect her." Not Hers to Bleed" temporarily debuffs the Moxie and Grit of an enemy that injures her." Lead-In Line" gives the user narrative momentum when they actively facilitate exposition by high-Savvy characters. Buffs the use of that information.

"Are you okay in there?" allows her to sense all allies' emotional states on the red wallpaper.

"Final Callout" gives great narrative weight to the use of names in the finale.

"A Tight Squeeze" allows the user to improvise the existence of an exit, though whoever is last to get through it will be left behind.

"Friends to the End" allows her to get buffs for all fallen allies if she is the Last One Alive in the Finale. ~ ~ ~ I found myself sitting at a very nice wooden desk. I was in an office, my office, in fact. It was styled the way private detectives' offices often were, with frosted glass and wooden trim walls separating the office from the room outside. I could tell right away from all the ephemera on the walls that I was not a detective, though. I had degrees. I had accolades.

I had my face on the cover of multiple magazines, framed all around the room. I didn't even know what I was, but I knew I was very good at it, or at least very proud. I stood up from the desk and started searching the room. I was Off-Screen, and like most storylines in Carousel, my first job was to figure out who I was, a strange task given the fact that I had already used Casting Director and it had told me I was a videographer working for Antoine or something like that.

It took me thirty seconds to realize that something had changed. I didn't work for anyone. I was world famous, a documentarian, a historian, an archaeologist. I had been all over the globe and taken the pictures to prove it. There was a display case showing the evolution of camcorders over the past decades, from Super eight on up. As I surveyed the walls, I came across a corkboard that displayed a massive amount of information.

Most of it was just decoration, I could tell, but there was something that caught my eye. There was a wanted poster for Antoine Stone, PhD. The reward was ten thousand dollars. I read it closely.

"Wanted for questioning in the disappearance of one or more individuals" was all the information the poster gave me. Given what I knew about the storyline, that made sense. All of Antoine's friends started getting kidnapped. It made sense that the police would want to talk to him. That might end up inconvenient. The picture they had chosen was like something out of National Geographic: Antoine standing over some sort of dig site, his hat in his hand, his brow just recently wiped of sweat.

Something strange was going on. I looked through my desk, gathered everything I could, including a revolver with a few bullets, because my character didn't only shoot things with cameras, apparently. I made my way out of the room, only to find that the level of success I had estimated for myself was somehow still inadequate. I had a team, a receptionist, plus half a dozen other people at desks writing on old '90s computers. They clicked away at their keyboards and ignored me, probably because I was Off-Screen.

Up on the wall were the words The Lawrence Company. Under that, it said "Captivate the world." I really was a very successful documentarian. These were clearly my support staff. I could see cameramen adjusting equipment. I wasn't going to complain. Being a little more high-profile couldn't hurt. After all, in the last storyline, my character had no rank at all. I turned to my secretary, who sat at her desk typing away.

"What's on the schedule for the day?" I asked.

"You have an appointment with the Hughes widow," she said without looking up. Hughes. That must have been Cassie. The question was, who was her dead spouse?

"Right," I said.

"Can you get me the file on that? I'd like to brush up before she arrives." Even as I said it, my heart started to race. A fear took over me that I couldn't explain. Ever since I had last used the Props Department Requisition trope, I had been on edge, and the very thought of improvising research into existence had a physical effect on me. I hadn't even equipped that trope. I was using raw improvisation to get those files, and yet somehow I was still jumpy. I was going to have to figure that out sooner or later.

Without missing a beat, my secretary, whose name was just "Secretary" on the red wallpaper, opened up the file behind her, pulled out a folder, and handed it to me. There wasn't much to it.

"Thank you," I said.

"Don't mention it," she responded. With a glance around the room, I retreated back to my office to figure out what my upcoming appointment was about. I found myself staring outside. I was in a big city, something like Chicago, but of course it was actually just Carousel playing its part, as usual. I opened the file and found research on someone I was familiar with. Doctor Andrew Hughes. A pang of guilt struck my chest just looking at his face. I read through the file.

It didn't give me everything, but it did provide some basic background on Andrew's character. He was a reclusive billionaire, a Howard Hughes-type, a fact I was sure was a coincidence. He was a medical doctor and an inventor, having pioneered a bunch of sci-fi nonsense that was described in such thick technobabble that I couldn't even understand what it did. He had gone missing six months prior, but there was very little information on what had happened, and even his disappearance was only speculation.

The man hardly ever left his house, so it was difficult to know whether he was actually missing, but some distant relatives were sounding the alarm. I read through the documentation. He had a wife, but no children, and in his later years, he had become obsessed with the occult and history, having bought up entire museums just to satisfy his curiosity and desire to own the past. I closed the folder and thought about what was coming.

The Hughes widow was what my secretary had said, but she was Off-Screen, so that didn't necessarily mean it was canon. I knew that Andrew Hughes had died in The Sunken Cradle Part One. Antoine had told us. I didn't have any of the documentation that I had summoned, but I had no doubt I would get my hands on it soon. So this was a true sequel, picking up right where the last one left off, or at least six months later. Now, Andrew Hughes's widow was coming.

I wondered if she knew she was a widow or if she was just trying to find her husband. My character would know nothing about it. I found no evidence that he had any involvement with the sunken cradle at all. In fact, the only document that mentioned the phrase "sunken cradle" was in the folder the NPC had just handed me, where an article went into detail about Andrew Hughes's search for the mythological site. I knew I was going to be On-Screen soon, so there was nothing to do but wait and try to look busy.

Whenever Miss Hughes arrived, it could be an NPC. It could even be Anna. I had to hope it wasn't Cassie, but if it was, at least she wouldn't have to change her last name. I hoped she wouldn't take it too hard that Carousel was dragging Andrew into this. The way Carousel did sequels was a bit unpredictable. If a team ran one movie in a franchise and then went on to the next one, there would be continuity.

I wasn't sure if Andrew would get mentioned in The Sunken Cradle Part Two, but it looked like Carousel was leaning into it. I continued to search through my desk, but I didn't find anything substantial, just character info that may not have even been important. I knew just from looking at my hands that I had been aged up ten to fifteen years. I didn't need to look in the mirror. I had already felt my hair and knew I had a haircut. All that was left to do was wait, and then it was showtime. On-Screen.

A speaker on my desk buzzed.

"Miss Hughes is here to see you," my secretary said.

"Send her in, Barbara," I said, giving her a name. Something about being in the big city, far away from the jungle, soothed me enough to have fun like that. I was really missing Kimberly's loft. I was really missing Kimberly. The newly named Barbara opened my door, and a woman with dark auburn hair walked in, wearing sunglasses and a large dark overcoat that clung tightly to her body. On the red wallpaper, her name was Roxanne Hughes, but I knew her as Roxy.

I couldn't tell exactly what she was playing as, but I saw that her level was fifty and she had a lot of tropes equipped that I couldn't see, which meant that she had been brought into the story as a paragon. Was she acting as an Eye Candy, as she had in the Grotesque storyline, or was she a Femme Fatale? That would explain why my character's role had changed. Femme Fatale, like the adventurer, would make its own edits to the plot. This could spell trouble. I was too practiced to let my surprise show on my face.

I quickly stood and walked around my desk to shake Roxy's hand.

"Miss Hughes," I said.

"I was curious when I got your message. Please come in, take a seat." She did as I asked.

"Missus," she said.

"Missus Roxanne Hughes still."

"Of course," I said. I took my seat behind the desk. From what I could tell, my character mostly worked documenting wars and human trafficking, as well as huge archaeological finds. It was weird that this felt like the setup to a hardboiled detective story.

"You said you were curious," she said.

"How so?"

"I rarely have meetings with high society unless I'm looking to fund a documentary," I said.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Roxy took her sunglasses off and stared at me. Her eyes were red.

"There is no pleasure here, I assure you," she said.

"I'm here on behalf of my husband. You've no doubt heard what's happened to Andrew."

"I've heard that there's a rumor that something happened to him, but the rumor hasn't been particularly specific. Maybe you could enlighten me," I said. It was nice to have a back-and-forth with a committed actor. In some ways, Roxy reminded me of Kimberly. She took the job seriously, even when the job was dying for the team.

"My husband was led into the jungle and either abandoned or murdered by one of his men. That man emerged from the jungle carrying wounds from a fight and a large bag of gold and jewels. Unfortunately, he was such a high-profile name that the police refused to question him until perhaps now." She looked behind me. I followed her gaze. She was looking at Antoine's wanted poster. She must have been admiring her handiwork. There was no doubt that this change in events had been caused by her joining the story.

The vets used to always say never to use two advanced archetypes at once because there was something unpredictable about how the subplots could interact. Now we had to go on an Adventure to save our friends while dodging whatever political intrigue the Femme Fatale paragon had brought upon us.