Don't turn off the game!

un · Jackal Joined: 18 Apr 2008 Posts: 56

Name: Hell: A Cyberpunk Thriller
Author: Un
Started: May 10, 2008
Genre: Adventure
Description: An occasionally problematic but generally engaging point-and-click adventure game set in the Washington, DC of 2095, where an authoritarian theocratic party controls the government and literally sentences the disobedient to hell.

What the hell is Hell?
Well, see the short description above. Here's a summary of the story, paraphrased from the manual:

Hell occurs one hundred years in the future, and Washington DC is no longer just the nation's capital: it's also the place where hell meets earth. In the midnight hours, lurking amidst the bone-white monuments, hellspawn stalk the streets, looking for sinners to drag back to Hades.

The United States is ruled by a political party, the Hand of God, and its leader, the Imperator Solene Solux. Swept to power by a populace overwhelmed by violence, the seeping control of new technologies, and rampant immorality, the androgynous Solux has lived up to his/her awesome campaign promise: To sit in judgment of sinners and condemn the offenders to Hell. Solux's substitute Bible - the Sententia - has practically replaced the constitution, and the government has become a repressive regime.

New computer technologies, the exploration of cyberspace, artificial intelligence, robotics, medical health enhancers (such as body-morphing surgery and birthing assistance units) and even developments in cyber-entertainment have all been outlawed.

Some of these decisions were rooted in popular demand. The interactive Acti-Deck virtual reality home entertainment system, for example, horrified the populace when it was discovered that the device had gradually altered the users' genetic codes and led to a strain of humans with frightening psionic capabilities.

But the Hand also outlawed free speech, rival political parties, alcohol and drugs, gambling, and a host of other freedoms. This crackdown on liberties has bred widespread discontent. Hiding in the back alleys and the speakeasies of this urban dystopia, underground rebel cells have formed, including the Citizens' Freedom Front.

But opposition is fledgling since people live in constant fear of being condemned to hell's dark fires. The streets of DC are littered with the walking dead who've been there and back, and they can testify to the terrifying nature of the place - if they're able to talk at all, that is. Demons prowl the streets adding to the terror - monsters that resemble humans, horned beasts with pointed tails, and other creatures sprung from fallen angels.

You play the game as either Gideon Eshanti or Rachel Braque. Regardless of which character you choose, both will appear together throughout the game. For Rachel Braque and Gideon Eshanti, the brutal truth about the Hand of God comes in the form of a kicked-in door and singing bullets. Gideon and Rachel are field agents for Artificial Reality Containment (ARC), a division of the Hand's police apparatus. As ARC agents they were responsible for gathering information on illegal technologies. While they aren't armed police officers, they aren't exactly civil servants.

When the Hand of God betrays them, they begin their journey through the streets of Washington, a veering, bone-jarring scramble to learn why they've been targetted by the government they once served.

Your challenge is to learn why the Hand wants Gideon and Rachel dead. Can you solve the mystery before Gideon and Rachel feel the flames of hell?

So there you go. One other notable aspect of Hell is that it made a major selling point of its celebrity voices; it was released in the middle of the big "Siliwood" game/movie convergence hype embarrassment, and features voiceovers by Dennis Hopper, Grace Jones (!), and Geoffrey Holder, and Stephanie Seymour in a minor FMV role.

Why the hell are you playing Hell?
I like it! Hell is kind of an, um, polarizing game; it's widely considered awful for its text-heaviness and chunky mid-90s CG (it looked OK for a computer game in 1994, but the visuals haven't aged well, to say the least). It's certainly super-talky, even for an adventure game; the vast majority of a Hell playthrough will be spent in dialogue trees, some of which are kind of cornball and/or technobabbly. There are also a couple of broken puzzles QA apparently missed, though thankfully, they don't break the game. That said, I have a lot of affection for Hell, which tells a pretty fun story despite its flaws. That, and I appreciate its futurist and anti-Dominionist sympathies.

Anyway! Here's the intro: HASSAN CHOP!

...And now we'll have to select our main character. This has very little effect on 9/10 of the game; Rachel and Gideon work as a team, and have the same dialogue regardless of who's in charge. However, this choice does have a significant impact on the endgame sequence and ending, so it's not entirely without consequence.

"Hi! I'm Gideon Eshanti! I have a pretty good voice actor and a huge silver wristwatch. Reckonize."

"Hi! I'm Rachel Braque! I have nice hair and am a lady. Represent."

So, esteemed readership, who's it gonna be?

**Rainiac** · Posted: Sat May 10, 2008 5:52 pm Post subject:

Gideon's a cooler name than Rachel. I say Gideon
_________________
Insert witty signature here

**iastudent** · Jackal Joined: 29 Apr 2008 Posts: 30

I second Rainiac's nomination. After all, who's the guy who coined the phrase "cyberpunk" in the first place?

EDIT: A quick trip to Wiki finds that I was off by the 3rd & 4th letters. I still stand by vote.

Frye · Gridbug Joined: 19 Apr 2008 Posts: 5 Location: Wherever

I vote Gideon, and I can't wait to see how this turns out.

Kite RyI'M A WHINY BITCH! · Guest

It has to be Gideon. Dennis Hopper voices him, right?

un · Jackal Joined: 18 Apr 2008 Posts: 56

Nah, Dennis Hopper voices a demon of medium importance. Gideon is Buster Maxwell, who did voice work for this and one other computer game, and apparently nothing else.
_________________
HQ Versions
YouTube Profile

Kite RyI'M A WHINY BITCH! · Guest

Aw, dang. Dennis Hopper is awesome.

Either way, Gideon of course because he's male.

**ZwobotHood** · Posted: Sun May 11, 2008 3:03 pm Post subject:

I vote Gideon, but you shall call him by his voice actor's name. Buster sounds funny. Also, yeah, iastudent, it was Gibson.
_________________
I'm here to rob the stupidity of those on the forum who have it and give it to those that are poor in imbecility! Wait, what?

un · Jackal Joined: 18 Apr 2008 Posts: 56

With all precincts reporting, the vote added up to Gideon 15, Rachel 9. A very respectable showing for Ms. Braque, but it appears Mr. Eshanti gets the nod. I'll start banging on the first proper installment of the playthrough shortly, and will have it up ASAP.
_________________
HQ Versions
YouTube Profile

un · Jackal Joined: 18 Apr 2008 Posts: 56

OK, let's do this thing. Though I've certainly read my share, I'm new to actually composing these screenshot dealies, so do let me know if there are any formatting changes I should make in my next update, for readability purposes.

Gideon it is!

So here's a basic game screen. As Hell begins, we're hiding out in the apartment of Dante, a downscale friend of Gideon and Rachel.

If you move the cursor over an object you can collect or use in some way, the cursor turns into a skeletal hand, like so.

A human-head cursor indicates someone or something you can engage in conversation.

Clicking on Gideon or Rachel accesses your inventory. You start the game completely empty-handed, so we can't do this yet.

Alternately, you can access the same functions by moving the cursor to the top of the screen, revealing a menu bar.

The "examine" command gives you a full list of every unique object or person in the room. Handy if you think you might've missed something, though I don't recall pixel-hunting being too much of an issue in this game.

Left-clicking the regular cursor anywhere reachable makes your main character walk to that location; control-left-click makes your partner walk there. There's usually no good reason to do this, though it's useful your partner gets in your way or obscures your view of something important. Finally, right-clicking on a room, object, or person is a shortcut to the examine command. Let's look at some stuff!

Examine
Dante's Apartment: The pad of a cyber-tech artist. You get the idea that the occupant is apt to strum the guitar while working on the computer. The art from around the world gives the impression that he's well-travelled, too...and in more ways than one.

Key: The electronic key to Dante's apartment.

Dante: At last, a friendly face. Dante Scrivner, underground hacker and amateur philosopher, grants you safe haven in his apartment. You never turned him in, although he is guilty of minor uses of technology, because he has kept you informed on tech innovations in the underworld. You have become friends over the years.

Sounds like a nice guy. Maybe he's heard something about our situation on his secret internets!

At least you're out of your underwear. You're lucky the Hand didn't pick you up on indecency charges.

We'll be fine as long as we don't cross the people at the laundromat who owned these clothes.

So, what's the flowchart?

Let's start with what we know. A scrub team tries to nuke us in the middle of the night, only we got lucky and stuffed them. Question, of course, is: what have we done to earn midnight execution?

Damn it, we're ARC employees. We enforce the laws! We believe in what the Hand's doing, even though they step over the line sometimes.

Maybe they nailed you for being soft on rogue techs like me. Any other ARC agents would have pulled my plug by now.

That wouldn't get us cleaned. Maybe a rebuke, but we could've told 'em you were a singer with data on other hackers. Few months ago we tagged some would-be deck jocks that were programming an illegal c-space. Let a couple of kids skip, maybe gave them a second chance. But, again, they wouldn't scrub us over something like that.

I know the two of you are straight lines, but even you can't believe that Transgressions only punishes the wicked. This is a tyranny, man, a government with supreme power!

Clearly, the first move is to learn what the Hand has, or thinks it has, on us.

If it were me, my first move would be to a 787 headin' to Africa. The Coastal African Republics have become a high-tech free zone of sorts. A little rough, but the Hand don't reach that far yet.

I have to say, Dante's making a lot of sense here.

No way. We aren't running.

She's right, Dante. We've spent our lives enforcing this government's laws. I won't end it all as a fugitive. We're getting some answers even if we have to go to Solene Solux to get them.

Whereas our protagonists are very brave, very naive, or very dim. Maybe all of the above.

Where do we start? Do you think we can trust Frank Jersey?

Of course we can!

Who's Jersey?

He's an ARC captain, our superior. I've never known him to act on political motives...just the opposite. He's taken great risks defending people from corrupt busts. Lives in Georgetown. He would have the official e-mail on our scrub.

Nick Cannon. He's jacked into the Voice of God news nets almost constantly. He's one of the few people who get the news before it's run through the Decency Council's censors. Fortunately, he owes us for overlooking some information theft.

Don't you two arrest anybody?

We figured he was a good person to have our hooks into. Looks like we were right.

You two'd have to stroll right into Voice of God headquarters on the Mall. It's too risky.

Voice is usually low security, and we don't plan on using the front door. So, that's it...Cannon and Jersey. Not much. I wouldn't trust anyone else not to turn us in.

I might be able to fill your need. I know someone with links to the Front. I don't know how desperate you are, or whether you have any faith left in the system, but you may want to see what the other side has to offer.

S'funny, almost. A week ago, we'd have busted you for telling us that.

I won't mention him again, but if you're looking for new friends, his name's Aldous Xenon. You can find him in a bodega in Chinatown near Gallery Place. I'll pass your names to him. He's a little rough...not your usual type...but you can trust him.

Man, Dante's kind of jumping the gun here, huh? Considering Gideon and Rachel just refused to skip town for WE ARE GOOD LIFELONG COMPUTER-NARCS AND MUST CLEAR OUR NAMES! reasons, you'd think slipping them your contacts in the resistance movement would be kind of a bad idea.

We'll keep it in mind. We certainly need all the help we can get.

Don't deal me out! I owe you two for not feeding me to Transgressions. You always have a hiding place here. Take that extra key over there; it's yours. I'll surf the underground networks, see if anything's being rapped out about your case.

That's all we can do here for now, aside from yoinking Dante's spare key, which we do. To travel, we go to the menu bar and select "dcmap"...

...and get a DC map, appropriately enough. Right now, there are only two locations available: Dante's Apartment and Captain Jersey's Kitchen. We can't follow up on Xenon or the Nick Cannon/Voice of God lead yet. Off to Georgetown, then!

As usual, I'll start by examining everything, except for that memo on the kitchen table. We'll be looking at that shortly.

Examine
Captain Jersey's Kitchen: Where better to go when you're on the run: the kitchen of a cop. A safe, warm, middle-class place to discuss the fact that someone is trying to hunt you down and kill you.

Captain Frank Jersey: Your trusted ARC superor, Captain Frank Jersey, is alone in his kitchen. He seems to have been waiting for you. You've always found his calm authority reassuring.

Talk to Jersey

Cappuccino, anyone? Maybe some tea with a hit of bourbon in it? You must be freezing after your jog about town in your underwear.

We figured you'd have heard by now.

I saw it on the scrub team's playback footage. You two kicked some ass! I didn't know you had that in you.

Neither did we! Amazing what surprise and fear can do for your combat reflexes.

We know it's probably stupid to come here, Frank, but we need to talk to someone on the inside who we can trust. We know the Hand might be watching this place.

Screw the Hand, I'm an ARC Captain. This is the last place they'd look for you. My standing orders are to scrub rogues like you. You know me...heh...I always follow orders!

I like Cap'n Frank. He's got the kind of cynicism that, one would imagine, comes of a long career in law enforcement; he comes off as the kind of guy who still tries to maintain a reasonable standard of law and order, but learned long ago that the system is neither infallible nor incorruptible.

Why was a scrub team trying to burn us in our bed? Who gave the order, and what the hell for? We've done our duty for Hand and country! Is this our payback? We haven't done anything!

That's probably what most of the people you feed to the scrubs said.

Those people were sinners, Captain. They deserve what they got.

I forgot. You two are believers in the Guiding Hand. You thought being narcs for Reality Containment was doing God's work. Still feel that way now?

There's got to be an explanation. There was some kind of mistake!

Don't play games with me, girl. The Hand has something on you. What have you done?

Is this Interrogation 101, Frank? If our scrub went over the net, then you know what they're charging us with. That's why we're here. You tell us what we've done.

You want to keep me in the dark, fine. Maybe you don't know why they want you, maybe you do. Here's what I know: the official charges are crap. C'mon, you mean this kind of stuff doesn't trickle down to grunts like you?

Educate us, Captain. Obviously we need it.

The Hand's rule isn't exactly the rule of law. It's not what they charge you with, but the fact that they charge you at all. Officially, you're in violation of the Artificial Realities and Extranoumenal Environments Design, Programming, and Transportation act. You've been accused of dealing in pornographic virtuals involving human/demon coupling!

Dude, hot. I'd totally watch some raw girl-on-Zuul action.

They said we're skin dealers? That's ludicrous! Look at my case history; I've burned whole libraries of pornographic books and virtuals. It's a frame job, Captain!

Of course it's a frame job! You two are either guilty of something else, in which case I'll take you in myself, or you've become politically unpalatable for some reason, and they want to whack you for it.

So somebody in ARC wants us dead?

Someone in ARC or Transgressions or the Pentagon. Somebody with some connections, because they've linked you with Mr. Beautiful, and they only do that when they're desperate to whack somebody.

We now get a list of topics we can ask about. Since I'll be aiming to transcribe all of the dialogue options, I'll indicate each choice in parentheses.

(Who's this Mr. Beautiful?)

Beautiful is one of Transgressions' dirtiest little secrets. Association with him is as good as a guilty verdict. They accuse someone of running a narcotics or porn or illegal realities scheme, fabricate a link to Beautiful, haul his ass in, he signs a confession implicating the accused. Beautiful's freed on some technicality, and the accused gets scrubbed, or worse.

Let me guess. Beautiful's fingered us as accomplices in a virtual skin ring?

That's a good guess.

Where do we find this Assyrian scumbag?

Assyrian? I have no idea what that's supposed to mean in this context.

He's got a hangout in the back room of a speakeasy called the Interface, out in Foggy Bottom. Watch your step. Everybody in the place fancies themselves a badass, and most of them actually are.

(You suspect Transgressions' involvement?)

Then we're finished! The two of us can't fight Transgressions.

Best you can try to do is avoid them. They'll try for you again, that's for sure. Still, there might be a way to make Transgressions work for you, if you've got the guts to try it.

I don't know about guts...will desperation do?

Not everyone in Transgressions is a despot hiding behind holy robes. There are some men and women of integrity trying to make the system work. One of them's an acquaintance of mine, name's Jean Saint Mouchoir. He's a compulsive diarist, makes entries in a voice journal every day. He's a straight-arrow, by-the-book guy, so you can't risk confronting him. You'll have to break into his office, and he has passwords on everything in his system, but if you can break those, you might tap into what he knows about your case. I know that's not much, but it's a start. His office is in Sin Central, the Transgressor's complex right smack in the Federal Triangle.

(Anybody else scrubbed that night?)

Scrubs were out in force that night, which suggests a sweep, which means one of two things. You're either really involved in something dirty...in which case, I'll haul your asses in myself...or Transgressions is using one fabricated crime to wipe up a whole lot of undesirables. Question is, why are you two loyal ARC agents suddenly dirt?

Who were the other germs? Any pattern to the hits?

Only name that meant anything ot me was Swivel O'Leary. He ran a speak called Interface over in Foggy Bottom. Wild place...Mr. Beautiful hangs there. Transgressions had been tolerant to this point, but they finally got around to O'Leary.

(What's our alleged involvement with smut?)

Well, who knows? Transgressions is shadowy in its accusations 'cause it answers to nobody. Virtual porn's a popular setup; they get you for the sexy stuff and for the VR. Not much I can tell you because I haven't worked that turf in decades. Heh...pain in the ass, more than anything. Spend half your time busting horny kids and couples looking for a few new thrills.

But Beautiful deals in the stuff?

That's not his usual game. Plenty of other demons for that.

(End conversation)

Stay in touch. I'll do what I can to watch your backs, but be careful. The Hand's not finished with you two.

Now let's have a look at that memo.

"Night of Re-Entombment", eh? Must be the codename of the Hand sweep operation that led to our attempted execution. There we are on the hit list, along with Swivel O'Leary and a pile of others, all of which may be worth checking out. We'll take the memo with us, and with that, we're done with Cap'n Jersey's place for now.

We've got plenty of new leads to investigate...Nick Cannon at the Voice of God, several targets of the Night of Re-Entombment sweep, Aldous Xenon of the Citizens' Freedom Front...but only one new location available for the moment: The Interface, that speakeasy run by the late Swivel O'Leary. I guess Mr. Beautiful is our top priority. That's fair enough, and we can ask around for information on O'Leary while we're there.

As we travel to the Interface entrance in Foggy Bottom: A cutscene!

Next time on IPAT: Hell...The Interface!
_________________
HQ Versions
YouTube Profile

**ZwobotHood** · Posted: Mon May 12, 2008 10:01 am Post subject:

Sure love me some Cyberpunk talkage. Can you use Dante for hacking purposes later on or is his place just a safe haven?
_________________
I'm here to rob the stupidity of those on the forum who have it and give it to those that are poor in imbecility! Wait, what?

un · Jackal Joined: 18 Apr 2008 Posts: 56

Mainly the latter. I think he may dig up some information for you later in the game, but I haven't played all the way through for a few years, so my memory may not be reliable on that.
_________________
HQ Versions
YouTube Profile

**Gtf234** · Jackal Joined: 02 May 2008 Posts: 98

**ZwobotHood** · Posted: Mon May 12, 2008 6:41 pm Post subject:

Heh, yeah, and that makes the protagonists fall into a rage in which they set out on their quest for vengeance. But we all got used to this kind of plot development over the years and began to like it, I guess. Rolling Eyes

_________________
I'm here to rob the stupidity of those on the forum who have it and give it to those that are poor in imbecility! Wait, what?

un · Jackal Joined: 18 Apr 2008 Posts: 56

Phew. I'm probably only going to be able to bang out an update every few days for this one, as opposed to my typical one-a-dayish pace for video IPATs; there's just so damn much transcription involved, it takes forever to get everything typed up and formatted. Only one room of any consequence in this episode, but it's got a mighty load of people and dialogue crammed into it...

Examine
Entrance to Interface: While many people have seen demons in the bottom of a bottle, there's no telling from the front of this nondescript building that it contains a speakeasy, which itself is a front for the backroom headquarters of the demon Pazuzu, aka Mr. Beautiful. About the only clue to what's inside is the sign on the door.

Door: A pair of big, dark, bloodshot eyes peers suspiciously out from a slot that slides open in the door. The swarthy lids blink slowly...

Talk to Karl (doorman)

What is it?

I'll give you three guesses and a chance for the washer/decking unit.

Don't try to be clever, Gideon. You might hurt someone.

The password, numskulls. You want in, you gotta gimme it.

There's a password? You're kidding me.

Nah. You gotta be a member. Read the sign.

That ain't the password! Youse guys will have to do better than that.

Oh, fine. Do what the man says and take a close look at the sign, and the password should be pretty obvious. Let's try that again.

Can't youse read? Like the sign says, "members exclusively". No password, no entry. Now beat it!

And the not-at-all-conspicuous GIANT manhole cover slides away to allow us entry.

The Interface! Man, could I go for a cold...Shnyd's. Anyway, upon entering, we automatically enter conversation with the skunk-haired lady perched on the bartop.

Cynna Stone is portrayed by Stephanie Seymour of modeling, SI Swimsuit Edition, and Playboy fame. She's one of only two characters in Hell depicted in photographic stills and FMV; outside of that first shot of the Interface, you never see her in CG form. Kind of odd, but I guess it would've defeated the point of hiring a supermodel for the game just to represent her as a primitive render.

: Well, well, well. And who's the next victim?

I beg your pardon?

So this is what you look like now... Wow, they did a nice job. You look great!

Why, Mr. Eshanti! My little heart would be all aflutter...if I had one.

A-hem!

Uh, Rachel, honey, allow me to introduce Cynna Stone. She's, uh, an old friend of mine.

Oh, really?

No, I just mean we go way back...

Yeah, we used to go way back behind the barn, didn't we, Gideon? Hey, Gid, remember the days when I used to see through you? "I love you, baby, I'll always love you..."

Cut it out, Cynna. This is Rachel.

Not the Rachel? Well, what do you know! Walks on two legs and everything!

Wait a minute. Gideon, you never mentioned that you two were...

Involved? Friendly? Acquainted? Pals? Buddies? Amigos? Familiar with the beast with two backs? Just good friends? Scream in the night, rock around the clock, what-do-you-know-here-comes-the-daylight kind of friends?

...Right. He never mentioned that.

...So Cynna, how's things by you?

Oh, just fine, thank you for asking. I've found that after you, electronics is the next best thing. Of course, it's not like I have any choice in the matter now.

I was really sorry when I heard, Cynna.

I know, I know. I got your cards, the flowers...or rather, the flower. What, is that supposed to be dashing or something, a man sends you a single rose?

That wasn't a white rose, by any chance?

White as snow. You on the mailing list?

One of many, apparently.

Rachel, the woman was dead! I mean, not dead, exactly...uh...

It's all right, Gideon. I was dead. Still am, as a matter of fact...in the quaint, traditional sense of the word. I'm not much more than a picture in a scrapbook.

I just don't get this stuff. It's you; you're thinking, talking, still seem to have a little feeling...

It's not her feeling I was wondering about.

Relax, Rachel. Gideon always preferred his women to have some substance. Didn't you, lambchop? He liked 'em live, too.

So how did they do this?

Did most of this myself, actually. You work with the kind of ordnance I work with, you always figure on slipping someday, especially when the tech updates itself every five minutes. So, I developed this droid I'd been tinkering with for years, and every now and then I downloaded as much of my own playful sweet self as I could into data...my personality, memories, you name it, everything that's me...onto a couple of compact disks. Didn't bother to keep up the holographic file, though. You'll notice I'm a bit younger than the last time you saw me. The last picture of me was from a cousin's wedding. I remember wishing I'd brought some plastic explosives with me. The band played "Satisfaction" one too often.

It wouldn't seem to say anything good about Cynna that she was able to fit her entire braindump on a few CD-Rs.

Do you...do you remember what happened? I'm sorry, you probably would rather not...

Nah, it's all right. I don't remember a thing. I only remember up to my last downloading, which was about a week before what my doctors liked to call "the unfortunate incident". I remember taking the assignment, though. It was with an old friend from the Georgetown Revo days. You know, an old friends I was seeing in kind of a new light. He was a pretty damn good B&E man, but as far as demolitions go, he didn't know shit from shinola, so I thought I'd help out, see what it would be like to work together. The job called for us to use protoglycerine caps...nitro in gel form. Highly unstable stuff, not for use at home. Next thing I know, I'm coming out of surgery and there's no there there.

You think your partner screwed up?

Couldn't say. He didn't make it. He always was kind of fumble-fingered when it counted, though. I guess it just goes to show you: never mix love and explosives.

Sorry about your friend.

Don't be. I'm a holograph. Go ahead, pinch me.

Who was in on the operation? What was your target?

Oh, no you don't, ARC-head. You know I would never give up names.

Well, I'm not exactly with "the firm" any longer. We, uh...

I heard, I heard. They finally wised up to the fact that you weren't really a fascist at heart, and put out a hit on you. I figure, knowing you, that it hasn't sunk in yet; you probably figure it's some bureaucratic snafu you can still clear up. And, to be honest, it's an old habit that's gonna die even harder than I did...knowing better than to talk about the Revo side of things. I mean, remember how much trouble you had kissing in public? Even after we'd been going out for ages, it made you uncomfortable.

Was he like that with you, too? I thought it was me!

Nah, he's got his prudish side. And does he still leave wet towels all over the place?

Uh, wait a minute. I think we're getting off the subject.

How'd you like to see him take a walk on the Revo side?

Well, that came right the hell out of nowhere, Miss Kill-The-Sinners Porn-Burner.

Gideon? That's something I'd like to see.

Great! Why don't you come with us? We could certainly use you. Of course, with my expertise with explosives, I'm likely to blow you up again.

No problem. That's the great thing about being dead: you don't sweat the little things.

Great. I have a feeling that with you along, we'll really be able to give the Hand a run for their money.

This is certainly an abrupt change for the adversarial in Rachel's attitude toward the government, though I suppose she could just be telling Cynna what she wants to hear.

Yeah, well, you know my motto: If you can't figure it out, blow it up. Uh, by the way, Rachel, I was just kidding earlier. I mean, I knew it was over between Gid and me the first time I heard him mention your name.

Really? The first time? Why, Gideon...

Judas Priest, is it me or did the road just get longer? OK, ladies. Beautiful must be behind that door at the rear of the bar. First thing we should do is confront that demon. Once we've done that, we can consider these other leads we've collected. Let's see. Dante told us about Aldous Xenon of the CFF. We should go there soon. There's Nick Cannon at Voice of God near the Mall and Dr. Clean at McPherson Square. Jersey tipped us to Mouchoir's computer in the Transgressions office near Federal Triangle, and he also mentioned a demon hunter named Dean Sterling. Maybe Mouchoir's got something on Sterling. Of course, if we get really desperate we can drop in on our old friends Pap-Pap and Anna Mae at their comics shop near Gallery Place. Hmm, not far from that Xenon fellow. A long road, indeed. On to Beautiful, ladies!

There's a pretty serious gaffe in the script here. Captain Jersey didn't say a damn thing about Dean Sterling. Clearly someone screwed up in editing. Gideon also pulled Pap-Pap's comic shop and Dr. Clean out of his ass, but those turn out to be existing contacts from his ARC work with Rachel, so it does make some sense for him to bring them up during a time of trouble. Pretty wicked boner on the Dean Sterling thing, though.

And there we go: Cynna is automatically added to the group. You can have up to 3 allies travelling with you at any time; there are 5 in the game, and 4 of them have items and/or skills that will be needed at one point or another (the fifth is useless aside from a bit of comic relief).

Being a Demolitions Expert, Cynna comes equipped with an EMP grenade, explosive charge, gas bomb, and a pack of mini-bombs. Let's have a look at those...

Examine
EMP Grenade: This electromagnetic pulse grenade can have a particularly devastating effect on machines.

Explosive Charge: These plastique charges are set for detonation when the pin is pulled.

Gas Bomb: A bomb that emits an incapacitating nerve gas; it does not harm victims, but so deadens their nervous system that they are rendered into a virtual coma for several hours. It will take out a roomful of people almost instantaneously, and it's small enough to fit in a pneumatic tube.

I'm sure that oddly specific reference to a pneumatic tube couldn't possibly have any relevance to a later puzzle.

Mini Bombs: A small charge, the size of a bullet. Also known as "poppers".

Anyway, recruiting Cynna sets a flag that allows us to start investigating other leads, and opens up a bunch of new destinations on the map. There's plenty more to be done in the Interface, though, so let's take a look around.

Examine
The Interface Speakeasy: The place still resonates with the shock waves emanating from the mysterious and brutal murder of the owner, Swivel O'Leary, by a government scrub team. All the normal, talkative patrons keep coming, however. Maybe because now they have something to talk about.

Open Soar (bartender): Ever since the previous bartender...owner Swivel O'Leary...was brutally murdered by a scrub team, former Hell's Angel Soar has been nervous and tender as a, well, open sore.

Scub Stevens (seated at bar): He may look like an elf, but he's really a wizard when it comes to jury-rigging anything out of nothing. He's even got his appearance rigged to his liking; due to his size and quiet demeanor, he's easily overlooked, despite the fact that his name has near legendary status.

Mindrunner (in blue, behind Stevens): Some things never change: a big, badass biker.

Kween Chaos (on stairs): This disparate confabulation of decades of urban contrariness in fashion, attitude, and jargon appears to have dressed in the closet of some countercultural royal...in the dark. Carries it all off with the haughtiest, most regal bearing, though: the look of royalty, slightly deposed.

Sophia Bene (left, in shinypurple): A woman of striking warmth and grace is out of place in this seedy speakeasy.

Talk to Open Soar

Well, hello, sailor! Didn't realize it was that kind of bar.

What'll it be?

Answers to some questions we have.

OK. Beer.

I beg your pardon?

That's my answer.

You only sell beer?

We like to keep it simple.

We wanted to ask you about Swivel O'Leary.

Swivel's dead.

We know. You got any idea why the Hand would off him?

You don't get it. He's dead, as in smeared against the freakin' wall. As in, no way in hell I'm talking to you about him.

Cripes. Whatever happened to the friendly neighborhood barkeep you could tell your troubles to?

He's still dead.

So are we, if we keep wasting time on clowns like you. C'mon, Gid.

Talk to Mindrunner

"Some things never change", says the narrator, but in my day, most big badass bikers didn't have hair formed entirely from melted vinyl.

Hey, sweetheart. Ditch that loser and run with a real man! I got a full tank of gas in the hog, a six-inch wad of hundred-dollar bills, and enough adrenal stimulators to party a week straight.

Tempting offer, chief, but I'll pass. We've got work to do.

C'mon, babe. What can tall, dark, and depressed do for you that Mindrunner can't? Hangin' with me is more than just physical, if you get what I'm sayin'. They don't call me Mindrunner for nothing.

Can it, Casanova. We're digging for data on Swivel O'Leary.

O'Leary? Funny how a man gets more interesting once he's had his intestinal tract splattered all over a walk-in freezer! Swivel played it cool, kept his mouth shut. Mostly mumbled to himself; hell, half of that was in Latin.

Latin? He spoke Latin?

Just a few phrases. Hell only knows where he picked that up. Freakin' annoying is what it was. I almost busted his chops plenty of times. "Vocabulum est grallae, ominus venire ab genitor". He must have mumbled that a thousand times under his breath. What's with you two? That mean something to ya?

Not meaning to stereotype the motorcycle enthusiast community here, but I'm kind of surprised Mindrunner could recognize Latin, let alone rattle it off from memory.

Vocabulum est grallae, ominus venire ab genitor, eh? The word "grallae" could mean something.

Hint, hint. Also, you may recall Rachel blurting out a similar Latin phrase as she woke from her nightmare, back in the intro...

Glad I could help, sunshine. Guess you owe me now. I can think of dozens of ways to repay me, depending on how flexible you are. Heh, heh, heh.

Talk to Kween Chaos

I shudder to ask.

Actually, I thought we'd do the asking.

I should have known: investigators. You have that orderly, methodical look. Seekers of arrangement where there is none; it doesn't exist, and even if it did, I'm not interested!

Judas Priest, how do you order a drink with that kind of mumbo-jumbo?

Dammit, Gideon, leave Rob Halford out of this.

Kind of reminds me of the time I tried to get you to talk about commitment, Gideon.

Yeah, well, you blew your chance at that one, didn't you? In more ways than one, I'd say.

Blew my chance?! Did it ever occur to you that maybe some women don't feel like they have to beg a man to commit to comething. Maybe I was secure enough!

Are you saying I'm insecure, you tin-plated bimbo?

Will you two knock it off?

All right, all right. So anyway, lady, what you're saying is, you're a fan of disorder?

Queen of chaos, actually. Deck in, baby, c'est-ci moi: Kween Chaos.

Is it me, or is this conversation just a tad over my head?

It's shooting around you, my dear! Like subatomic particles ricocheting for no discernable reason...and yet I repeat, even disinformation includes information.

Do you know how we can get a hold of Mr. Beautiful?

Everyone knows that. You just have to say the magic word.

Good. There's nothing random about that; it takes a certain, particular word to summon him up.

And yet not without the possibility of chance occurrence, much like what happens in happenstance. A cyber-duality, the prosing occurrence of his appearance with you standing there. Much like if a drink were suddenly to appear at my elbow, for example.

Much like the fat within chance. You want a drink from us, you've got to give us some news we can use.

I'm sorry, you're like aliens to me. I see him all around me! It seems easy; you must merely look at the creature to see his essence.

But we can't look at him if we can't summon him up!

If you could, you would see no more than some petty hood, not unlike thousands of others. Fate has condemned him, so he is the essence of condemnation. In that lies his essence, and within his essence, you will find him.

My head hurts.

Mine, too. I give up. Thanks for your time, queenie.

Talk to Scub Stevens

I was wondering when you two would get to me.

What are you talking about, fella? We never saw you before.

I know, just my footprints...and that, only when I got sloppy a couple of times.

Who the hell are you?

Name's Scub Stevens.

Holy cow, Scub Stevens! The man's a legend!

You're Scub Stevens? You're kidding me.

You expected somethin' taller?

Well, yes, frankly. A holograph can dream, can't she?

Cynna! A holograph can have some manners!

It's just that we never figured on meeting you. The sign of a good rigger is that he doesn't leave too many fingerprints. You don't leave any. In fact, that's how we know a job is yours: no fingerprints, no marks, virt afterimages...nothing.

But from what I seen, if anybody could have given me problems, it would've been you two! Heh, heh...too bad for ARC you're out of the business.

Wait a minute, I just remembered something. Didn't a scrub team come after you once?

Maybe? No maybe about it! Don't they teach you ARC boneheads about famous disasters amongst your peers? I mean, he took out an entire scrub team!

Let's just say you should never try to take a jury-rigger at home. I didn't have to lift a finger. All they had to do was...open the door. How'd you guys escape?

Pure luck. They were expecting to take us out one at a time.

It's never pure luck when you outdo a scrub team, lady.

I'm beginning to think our luck has run out.

Maybe not. You're off the Hand's map now. That's one good thing. They don't know where you are; they don't know what you know. There's a bunch of good people in your jurisdiction they never heard of, people you laid off of. Maybe some of them could help you.

People like you?

I could be persuaded. Plus, I sorta owe you two.

You'd be willing to work with us even though there's a scrub team after us?

Yeah, what the hell, it's a slow week. Whaddya think, you need me?

Legendary hardware-hacker who takes his beer straight from the pitcher? SOLD!

Great! ...But don't you have to get, like, your little black bag, or whatever it is riggers carry their tools around in?

Nah...I'm a rigger, for God's sake. If you can't make do with stuff on hand, what good are ya?

Right, let's have a look at ~~Spielberg's~~ Scub's stuff. He's got a glass cutter, some glue, "dream powder", and his jury-rigging skill, represented by the hammer icon.

Examine
Glass Cutter: A common household item: a glasscutter.
Yeah, I've got like a dozen of those just lying around the kitchen.

Glue: A bottle of standard household glue.

Dream Powder: This vial of so-called "dream powder" could knock out an elephant.

Jury Rig Skill: Scub Stevens' ability to jury-rig.

Pretty straightforward stuff, but like Cynna's gear, it's all important.

Talk to Sophia Bene

You don't look like the type who drinks in a place like this.

Not by choice. I'm desperate to earn some money. Know anybody who needs the services of a good forger?

Damn right you don't look the part. Why put yourself at risk?

That's my business, isn't it?

Not if you're pushing your services to us.

I told you, it's the money. I need cash to get my daughter out of the city. She lives with a gang of kids that call themselves the Clean Machine. They live near McPherson Square in a tenement across a narrow street from their opposite numbers, the Deadly Seven.

That's odd. What caused the division? Was it a result of their deck mutation?

Not much we can do about getting your girl out of the gangs, but we could have use for a forger.

I always carry my tools. If you want me to work with you, I'm ready, but my condition is this: you two help me convince Chastity to leave the Cleans. Do something to show her how empty of a life it is, and I'll serve as your forger. Agreed?

Dude! Fake IDs! Gideon's totally being "Miles Long" on his.

Remember our deal, now. You have to help me with Chastity while I forge for you. Time goes by, and I think you're welching on our deal, I'll leave you high and dry.

Sophia travels light, compared to the other two; other than her forging skill, represented by the pen, she's just got a pass template.

Examine
Forger Skill: Sophia Bene's ability to forge documents.

Pass Template: This template will allow you to make an official-quality Level 4 pass.

The "Get Chastity away from gang life" subquest is going to be an almighty pain in the nuts, seeing as it involves talking to upwards of 12 NPCs, sometimes more than once. D: My fingers ache already. Besides keeping Sophia happy, though, it'll also give us a chance to investigate Brian Avery, who was listed on the Night of Re-Entombment memo as an associate of the Clean Machine and Deadly Seven gangs.

Next time on IPAT: Hell...Mr. Beautiful!
_________________
HQ Versions
YouTube Profile

bossgoji · Posted: Wed May 14, 2008 3:19 am Post subject:

Man, George Lucas really let himself go.

**ZwobotHood** · Posted: Wed May 14, 2008 8:48 am Post subject:

The game's just swarming you with companions, ugh. I kinda hate whenever that happens in any game.
_________________
I'm here to rob the stupidity of those on the forum who have it and give it to those that are poor in imbecility! Wait, what?

un · Jackal Joined: 18 Apr 2008 Posts: 56

Last time, we text-bombed our way through the NPCs in the main room of the Interface. Now for the back room, the rumored hiding place of our accuser, Mr. Beautiful!

Examine
Mr. Beautiful's Office: Besides the fact that the room is papered with the kind of wallpaper you don't want to stray too close to, there's the pentagram on the floor, and all the other etceteras you'd expect in the office of a major-league demon. The jukebox, though, is a puzzling inclusion.

Abonides (short demon, right): A small demon in spats feigns servility. He is the demonic epitome of the plotting servant, carrying out his master's agenda whenever it coincides with his own agenda.

Mr. Beautiful's Cue Stick: A regulation, but souped-up, customized pool cue that has kind of a sticky feel to it. It belongs to Mr. Beautiful.

Jukebox: A blast from the past, a jukebox loaded with Mr. Beautiful's favorite hits.

Talk to Abonides

What's this? What trouble have I bought? Have I copped a fate naughty and full? Are you heat or scrubs who want me shot? I plead you see I'm only dutiful. I didn't make the game I play. The one you want is Mr. Beautiful!

Abonides got mad flow. Word life (this is basic thugonomics).

You've got that right, shorty. We need to see your master, now!

See him? Not everyone may. Those who do so are select; make your bones! You've dues to pay. I will summon him if I elect, but for me to chant and call him hence, from you the code I must detect.

Incorrect, you stupid slob! You have no hope. Go get a job.

Damn, these underworld types are secretive. Vows of silence, passwords, secret handshakes. Now, we need a code word to summon this demon. Maybe there was something in that gibberish Kween Chaos was spouting. It seemed like she was trying to tell us something. If we can just remember what she said...

Fuck a bunch of that. Let's screw around with the other stuff in here.

Use jukebox

Now is not the time to dance! You've business in this city dark? On my cue you get your chance.

Get cue

The cue is not yours to take! While my master lives, he'll use your head to break!

God, Abonides is such a cockblock. Fine, we'll give him his stupid code.

Your brow is twisted. You look tense. You desire still to see my master. You must give the code to fetch him hence. You're impatient, you want him faster. To summon him you lack the stuff. Give the code or court disaster.

The trick here is, indeed, found in your conversation with Kween Chaos. Remember her going on and on about Beautiful's being the essence of condemnation, and finding him in his essence? Well, looking at the word "condemnation", its "essence" is the root condemn. And there you go.

The underworld will part and rend a fissure up, from hell to surface, and Beauty rise, at the word condemn!

Cutscene: Arise, Dennis Hopper, arise!

Wow. That wallpaper really is kind of fucked up, now that we get a good look at it.

Abonides, you cowering lickspittle, I told you to go light on the smoke and brimstone and shit when I'm in my human form! This stuff goes right into my friggin' throat, man!

You find it even harsher as of late. With human heart and human lung, perhaps you are not one so great! ...But I speak with too sharp a tongue. As your servant I stoop and crawl. Here are two with stories unsung.

Oh, listen to you. You're not fooling anyone with the false modesty. Fire up the espresso machine; I want a pot of the double stuff ready for me when I'm done with Gideon and Rachel here.

Now, I gotta tell you two I'm not happy. Not frickin' happy at all when two of my people are making this much noise. Kicking the crap out of scrub teams in your underwear? How do you think that's gonna play with the dagos and spics and those damn Indians downtown? I got every mob in this town handing me money 'cause I've got Mephisto's patronage and a sweetheart deal with the Hand. You two start blowing their people's brains out, and you know what I'll have? I'll have freakin' squat, man! Every scrub gun in the metro area will be after me.

What is this? We don't work for you! We've never even seen you before.

Don't play games with me, girlie! That's the problem with the rackets these days; nobody's got any loyalty left. Hey, I'm fightin' a war here! I got enemies on every front and two different planes of existence. I don't need mutiny by my own freakin' people.

We're not your people, Beautiful. We're wise to what your "sweetheart deal" with the Hand is all about. We know that you implicate people in crimes that they didn't commit so that the Hand has a cover story for arresting them. Well, it didn't work, pal. We slipped that noose, and we figure you know the real reason that the Hand wants us killed. We've come for answers, Beautiful.

Don't push it, Eshanti. Ask Abonides what happens, heh, when he pushes me too far! Heh, heh, heh. He pushes and pushes and pushes, man, and then I have to push back. It ain't pretty, man...it ain't pretty.

We know what your game is. We know that you helped set us up for the scrub hit. We're here to learn the reasons why, and don't try to intimidate us, because we're not afraid of demons.

You making demands on me? You've got rocks as big as church bells, boy, but I'm gonna make 'em ring if you don't watch your step! Couple of ham-and-egg grifters think they can walk into MY office in MY speakeasy and give me the business? ...And don't hand me this fearless rap. You've had the late-night kick on your door. The scrub teams showed you how vulnerable you are. This planet's brimming with fear, man. I sense it everywhere, in everything. It's in the sweat of anxious transglobe grunts, in lonely beds at 4 AM, and skinny chicks with ugly scars taking wicked backhands from husbands. Don't think you're special. You've got buckets of fear in you, boy, and I'd rip it out and show it to you if I didn't need both of you.

I kind of like the "fear" speech, personally.

This is useless. Let's get out of here, Gideon.

You're not going anywhere. You're still in shock from the scrub attack. Happens to everyone the first time someone tries to shoot them in their bedroom, heh heh! Trust me, you'll get over it. Best thing to do is plunge yourself into your work. ...Now, here's what you gotta do for me. You're gonna help me with Sanguinarius, that sonofabitch. He's been a stone in my shoe for centuries, and today we settle all accounts. Does he think I've got my head in the sand that I don't know what he's doing with all that ordnance he's stockpiling? That megalomaniac sees himself straddling the horse of death...man, and he's leading this army of demons armed with bazookas, machine guns, and cluster bombs. He's even invented his own weapons: guns that fire poisonous serpents and machine guns spraying hellfire. And, see, he's got this vision of himself on this horse, man, with my head impaled on his sword, and he's kicking ass all over hell in the name of his master Belial, who'll reward him with chests of gems, and chariots overflowing with food, and chambers full of plump naked boys or some shit like that. Oh, your tiny little minds can't conceive of the desperate grandeur of a demon's dreams. He wants it all, and that includes my head, but I'll be bum-buggered from Dis to Dorchester if that gun-crazy diablo's getting the drop on me.

(sotto voce) Let's play along a little, Rachel. Something wild's happening here, and we might be able to turn it to our advantage. (normal voice) I, uh, never quite understood the conflict between you and Sanguinarius.

What's to understand? There's nothing to it. It's a vendetta; it's hate! We're demons. Hate's our thing, our schtick, our raison d'etre. It's...what we do. Sanguinarius serves that ignorant, hulking Belial, see, and I do the job for Mephistopheles. We've been tearing it up over the same turf for thousands of years, and now I've got the upper hand. I had the vision, the brilliance, to get connected with humankind's most potent sinners. I had the genius to take human form and become a player in the rackets. I built what I got with class and negotiation. Every