[IC]Streets of Rage: Baptism of Fire

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Serious Paul
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[IC]Streets of Rage: Baptism of Fire

Post by Serious Paul »

KSNBC Channel 301 Weather Update!
“Your local weather first!”

“Hello there I’m meteorologist Craig Claypool, your storm team 301 Chief Meteorologist, bringing you a Channel 301 summer weather Update!”

“As you can see from the satellite pictures there’s nary a cloud in site for miles. Rainfall is at a seasonal low as temperature soar past 100 degrees Fahrenheit! A summer heat advisory has been issued for the general Seattle Metroplex area by the UCAS National Weather Service.”

“And you folks know what that means! Stay cool by staying inside unless you need to be outside. Pay special attention to those over 60 and those under 2-make sure their getting plenty of water, using plenty of sunscreen and staying in the shade! Its gonna be a scorcher folks!”
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Post by Serious Paul »

Radio KOMA: Rick and Michael’s in the Morning!
Live feed? Y

“…And in other news the recent summer heat wave has claimed the lives of several hundred Seattle residents in the past few weeks. Authorities say that as the summer temperature soars so does the death tool. At least 300 are believed to have died from heat related injuries. Authorities with the Seattle Metroplex Social Services would like to remind residents to drink plenty of water, and stay out of the sun if at all possible.”

“In related news the recent rash of heat related deaths has also created a problem at local Morgues and Funeral homes as space to store the bodies runs out. Ghoul sightings have a number of residents worried…”
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Post by Serious Paul »

Brown outs make keeping cool a hot topic!
KSPS PBN Channel 9

Recent power outages have disrupted services for hundreds of residents and local businesses alike, much to the distress of many. During one of the hottest summers on record these waves of brown outs has sparked public unrest and anticorporate sentiment against Geatronics, one of the largest local providers of power to the Seattle Power Grid. (SPG)
Representatives from Geatronics have been tight lipped, offering little in the way of official commentary, but insiders have speculated that recent conflict between Renaraku and Geatronics is possibly responsible for the blackouts. Angry local businesses have lodged several complaints with the Seattle Better Business Bureau, but so far have met with little success.
“It makes me wonder why we pay these damn Indians!” says Harry Plane, who runs a local Stuffer Shack™ that has been with out power for the past week…
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Post by Serious Paul »

Tsimshian-Salish border conflict sparks protests!
Associated Press

Thousands filled the streets of Downtown’s University District to protest the UCAS involvement in the Tsimshian-Salish border conflict. UCAS forces have been providing logistical support for the Salish Rangers, allowing them to ship various goods through the Port of Seattle.

“The people are speaking, and we’re saying no to war!” Angry protestors clashed with LSSS riot police, injuring dozens…
Last edited by Serious Paul on Mon Jun 14, 2004 3:47 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Post by Serious Paul »

The Voice of Man!
Speaking for real humans first!

Seattle, UCAS. Nonviolent protestors from the local Seattle branch of the Humanis Policlub and Real Humans First! Were assailed by the goblin forces of Satan, today in Seattle in an act of racial hatred! These creatures that fear the supremacy of real humans lobbed Molotov cocktails and rocks, injuring five and killing one today!

Human forces were finally pushed into responding when the lackeys of Satan at LSSS failed to respond, and protect real humans first! In a blatant display of bias against real humans…
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Post by Serious Paul »

Race riots, water shortages; Scorching heat makes for a deadly summer in Seattle!
By Susan Smallmouth

If it seems hotter than usual this summer to you, you’re certainly not alone. Record temperatures, compounded by power outages and water shortages have made this one of the deadliest summers in living memory.

Perhaps the heat explains why tempers are flaring, or maybe it’s the shortage of water that makes peoples fuses so short? Whatever the reason this has been one of the most violent summers in history. Race riots, antiwar protest's, a low intensity war between Policlub’s and gang violence at an all time high! Seattle is a city on edge!

You may be saying, well no drek Sue, what’s new? Well wonder no more! I’ve spent the weekend consulting the most powerful spirits I could summon (No small task kiddies!) and I am here to tell you that a cool front is in our future…
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Post by Serious Paul »

POLICE BEAT BOY TO DEATH!
Seattle Times

Earlier this afternoon officers from Lone Star Security Service’s Downtown Street Patrol Division were recorded live as they beat a twelve year old Ork boy to death with their batons, shocking bystanders and the city alike!

Officials from LSSS have issued the following statement:

“We believe that as the facts come to light our officers will justified in the level of force they used in this situation. We ask that all citizens remain calm, and let the justice system work.”

Witnesses described a horrifying scene in which eight human officers beat a malnourished Ork boy, while smiling and joking. LSSS has pulled its normal street patrols reinforcing key corporate enclaves and roadways with police clad in riot gear…
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Post by Serious Paul »

Citywide Riots!
By the Associated Press

Shortly after a live beating of a young Ork boy by eight human officers of LSSS the Seattle Metroplex erupted in violence! Gang violence, fires and rioters have turned the Metroplex into a war zone!

Officials from Lone Star issued a press release urging citizens to remain inside their homes until further notice, insisting that they were in charge of the situation, and this was only a precautionary measure.

The Governors Office has not issued a statement at this time…
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Bolan's Run

Post by Serious Paul »

Seattle June 1st, 2063 0300 PST

The roar of the Tilt Rotor craft's engines whining made it hard for Mack to hear to the angry whirring buzz of the Yellowjacket attack helicopters that had been pursuing them since they'd left the Mitsuhama building. Everything that could have gone wrong had so far.

They'd lost the other half of his team as they'd hit the helopads for the extraction-his own rigger, DC, had barely managed to save their hides by cutting power and letting their craft drop like a rock towards the busy streets of Downtown. The power dive had been roughly cut short at the last minute, jarring Mack so hard he was sure he'd have cracked some ribs if he hadn't opted for the titanium lacing upgrade a few years back. As it was he was bleeding internally and reeling from the nights events.

They'd been hired to make an extraction. Mack and his people should have walked away-but his pride, their greed and the smooth talking snake with the fat credit account had appealed to their basest emotions and they'd taken the job.

They'd made it inside the building quick and clean. His people were pro's. Back in the day they'd been a Panamanian based SEAL unit. Lost in the shuffle of the political crisis that ensued after the first Wyrm bit it, his people had pulled the quick fade and taken their considerable talents to the market. Once they'd bagged the targte they'd hightailed it for the pads, hoping to pull the quick fade.

Thats when things had gone south. In a hurry.

They'd lost Bruce at the doors to the roof access, and Bravo team had eaten a fireball as they'd lifted off. Mack could still hear their screams. Grunting as their bird shifted suddenly, dropping twenty feet straight down and forward he stared at the Japanese man that MCT had apparently decided was better off dead than in the hands of Mack's present employeer.

The japanese man was in his fifties, maybe sixties, and damn near dead. He was bleeding from where he'd taken several high velocity rounds to the guts earlier. Unconscious he was strapped into one of the jump seats. Next to him was what was left of Shirley, their mage. This run was proving to be costly.

"Boss we got company coming up hard. Brace yourself." As Mack grabbed ahold of one of the "Oh Shit" handles in the cargo hold high velocity machinegun fire ripped theough the night-chewing up concrete and steel as it indiscrimnately destroyed whatever was in its path.

"Jesus H Christ. DC they're fraggin' nuts. Those are civilians!" He watched as the Yellowjackets in their pursuit of him mowed through traffic and buildings alike. He'd heard they didn't care what happened in the Barrens up here, but Goddess! This was some serious drek. "DC where the hell are we?"

"Some pissant dump called the Devils Playground..." His words were cut short by the sound of metal shearing and then the explosive force of a missile sending a fireball spiraling outwards.

As their bird headed for the ground like a falling stone, Mack screamed...
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Post by Serious Paul »

Seattle June 1st 2063 0305 PST

Billy. Thats what they called him. They treated him as one of their own.They honoured him. As Billy moved through the streets of their home he mused on the name.

The Devil's Playground.

He certainly wasn't a devil, let alone the Devil, but this was his playground. He knew these streets better than even they knew. Only Deke suspected what Billy really knew, but he wasn't one to talk about things like that...

Billy's thoughts were interrupted as the flaming wreckage of some sort of craft screeched out of the night like a falling star, slamming into the Helopad just down the road from him. Scrambling over rocks, ash and wreckage Billy sped down the narrow streets and alleys until he was just outside the old heloport.

Once this had been a busy transportation hub. The streets had been filled with bustling crowds. The Great Ghost Dance had changed all that. It was now a desolate wasteland, urban blight and ash that conspired to claim the few hardy souls left here.

As Billy scrambled over the wall seperating the old heloport from the street he could smell the burning steel, and charred flesh from within. He could hear the faint crackle of fire, and the occasional pop of something electrical exploding. Billy weaved his way under the collapsed building that had once been a terminal, through spaces only his diminuitive frame could squeeze through. As Billy shimmied out onto the other side he could see the wreckage of the tiltrotor craft.

He didn't know what it was exactly, but it was big, and broke. The cockpit windows were shattered, scattering armored glass in every direction. Twisted steel was bent in every direction making it look like a broken childerns toy.

Billy cautiously stole up to the craft, taking care not to step in ay of the flameable liquids that were seeping onto the concrete pad, or on any of the razor sharp shards of glass or steel. The temperature next to the craft was even warmer than the tar and gravel on the roof of his home.

Peering inside the craft he could see two men. One was obviously Japanese, his stylish suit tattered and torn, in spots soaked through with blood-from the looks of him, his own. He appeared unconscious, and more importantly to Billy, he was bound to his seat by plasteel restraints. He hadn't been in the craft of his onw volition.

The second man was huge. the biggets human Billy had ever seen. he was nearly as big as Deke, and looked at least as well muscled as Eugene. (Billy never thought of him as UG.) He was dressed in black fatigues with heavy armored plates on the vest. He was lying on his side, and billy could see portions of his flesh had been peeled or flayed away by the crash. Where there should have been white bones jutting out was cold dark blue steel. The man-machine was groaning and slowly pulling himself into a sitting position. Billy was amazed as the man found the drive to sit upright.

"Hey kid." The mans voice was raspy and thick with blood. Billy had forgotten he was just standing there. The man was armed, Billy started to whirl backwards, but the man was blindingly fast, clamping a hand on Billy's shoulder he chuckled. It was a thick wet sound. "Soka kid. I ain't gonna hurt you."

Something in his voice made Billy relax and turn around. The man loosened his hand which thumped alomost lifelessly to his side. "I'm fragged pretty good kid. Don't think there'll be any docs waiting for me at the end of this road."

Billy stared at him, his large eyes taking in everything. This man was dying.

"Don't talk much eh kid? Soka, we don't have time anyways. Listen carefully kid, because they're coming, and you can't be here when they get here. In my pocket..." his hand thumped deadly against his right thigh, there was a cargo pocket that appeared stuff full of something."...hey kid listen to me!"

"In my pocket is the paydata. Take it kid and run. Get it to my Johnson, a man named Lynch. You remember that? Lynch at the Royer building. Tell him Bolan sent you." The man rasped wetly. "He'll...he'll make it worth your while kid. Richer...." The man slumped lifelessly to the side, his eyes staring at something Billy would never see.

Tears stung Billy's eyes, and he wept softly, quietly. Gingerly he crawled into the craft and started to open the pouch at the mans thigh. Distantly he was aware of some sort of buzzing noise, like a bee, or maybe a wasp...

Billy pulled the pouch open, his fingers already slicked with blood and pulled the package out. Staring at the small package he wondered just what it was. His curiousity was curtailed by the thumping of helicopters on autorotation. Someone was above him.

Search lights kicked on scanning the wreckage. Billy pressed himself against the wall of the craft, avoiding the lights. There were three maybe four choppers out there. He had to avoid them if he wanted to live. Patiently Billy waited until he saw a gap in the lights and he sprinted towards the terminal as fast as he could.

The chatter of machinegun fire meant they'd seen him. Panting noiselessly he jammed his body into the terminal. Bullets rippeed through concrete and rotten wood like butter. Billy crammed himslef through the gaps, scratching and scraping his exposed flesh, but avoiding the gunfire.

He only needed to make it a few more feet, then he'd be safe. He'd be underground. They couldn't see him there. He hoped. There in front of him was a grate, slamming himself down he set the package off to the side. Gritting his teeth he dug his fingers into the grate and pulled as hard as he could. His muscles burned as heaved the wrought iron to the side. Snatching the package breathless he dropped into the dark hole as the rest of the roof collapsed.
Last edited by Serious Paul on Tue Jun 15, 2004 4:50 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Post by Serious Paul »

Seattle June 1st 2063 0410 PST

Linda Kadan wasn't used to failure. She's rose up the corportae ladder like a rocket. Her first supervisory position straight out of business school, her first executive level promotion only a year after that. Since then she'd been a rising star at Mitsuhama North America.

That these runners had been able to infiltrate corporate headquarters was bad enough. That they had done it with her full knowledge was even worse. She had been given all the information she should have needed to stop them. When they were coming, how. Why. She'd beefed up security almost two hundred percent that night. The overtime costs alone were nightmarish. That these runners had cut through her security scheme like a hot knife through butter was a testamnet to their ingenuity and deadly accurate use of force. It was also a testimonial of her failure.

"You're sure the boy lived?"

"Yes Ma'am."

"Find him. Find anyone he's come in contact with. Eliminate them. Recover the package at all costs. Do it quietly. Use the silent connection."
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Post by Serious Paul »

Seattle June 1st 2063 0510 PST

Officially he was businessman. He owned two massage parlors, three Stuffer Shack liscenses, and a auto body shop. In reality he was a member of one of the streets most feared predators, the Yakuza. Both of the massage parlors did a thriving flesh trade, and his auto body shop was one of the busiest chop shops on the Southside. The Stuffer Shacks provided him with a small front to launder money easily.

A far cry from his days as a small street kid in the slums of Nagasaki. Those memories still guided a lot of his decisions to this day. Honor dictated he perform as the woman from Mitsuhama had asked, but it didn't mean he had to like it. With a nod of his head an aide handed him a cell phone, and he dialed the numbers.

"Find them. Kill them all. Get the boy."
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Post by Serious Paul »

The word spread fast. The Clan was offering anyone who brought the boy back alive, and the rest dead a blank check. Like cancer it spread through the rotted underside of Seattle.
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Post by Serious Paul »

Seattle June 1st 2063 1200 PST

How did it all start? We were on the roof, the heat radiating from the gravel and tar on the roof. We were kids, but we'd never be the same....

"Folow the bitch. Queens and anything that follows." Hock grinned. He'd had a lot of luck with this game lately. They were under a makeshift tarp on the roof. Heat radiated up from the gravel and tar on the roof. For a second he glanced at the others.

In one UG was snoozing off and on, his cue ball sized eyes half open. A solar powered fan was mounted to his helemt,and his shirt hung haphazardly over the low wall that ran around the roof. Hock carefully assensed the Troll, taking care to not let on what he was doing, and smiled as he realized the Troll wasn't nearly as sleepy as he looked.

"Deal them." Amber was opppositte him at the makeshift table. Once it had been spool that some telecommunications company had run some sort of line with. Now it was etched with initials and drawings from the various members of the gang who came up here.

As Hock dealt the cards he looked over at Speed through the corners of his eyes. She didn't look real happy. He'd refused to let her sit in on this hand because she'd taken him for cred twice already this week. Although she was looking over at the game, he wasn't really sure where her attention was focused.

Chopper chomped down on a soy bar noislily as he sorted through his cards. His fingers were sticky from the food and for a second Hoc wondered if he somehow was able to mark the cards that way? He brushed that thought aside and turned his thoughts to the heat.

It'd been so damned hot lately. oday seemed like it'd be no different. He wasn't used to this sort of heat in Seattle. Of course some of them seemed less affected than others.

Ares didn't seem to notice that it was ninety plus degrees out. He was staring out across the neighborhood, facing to the North. Every once in a while he'd look back at the others, but he seemed to be isolated, alone. Hock wondered sometimes what made that kid so damn angry.

Toyman was angry but in an entirely different way. Glancing over at the diminuitive boy as he was jacked in made Hock smile. Something about Toyman made him smile.

If UG was big, and Ares was scary Deke was both. Hock didn't have to glance backwards to know that Deke was back there, sitting there, his face hidden in his thick arms. Sometimes Hock wondered why he stayed?

Sticks was the fourth in their little hand of cards. He always seemed at ease, no matter what was happening. He always had a smile, he always looked like he belonged, no matter where he was. Even here on the roof he seemed at ease, he wasn't even sweating. Hock wondered how he pulled it off? How was he always so damn calm and cool?

Hock dealt the cards, flicking them down on the table one by one. Two face down, one face up. As the landed he called them out.

"Ace for Amber."

"Big Queen for Chopper." Chopper grinned, and Hock flipped the next card.

"Looks like fours and bitches are wild." Hock resisted the urge to look at his own cards and flipped another for Sticks.

"Five for the Stick man." Hock set the deck down as they decided on what they'd bet. As he looked up he saw Nash step out of the door leading to the roof, Tiger following just behind her.

Tiger was almost as hard for him to read as Deke. Hock had grown up in a corporate enclave, but that didn't seem to help him understand Tiger's near Zaibatsu code of Honor. Tiger seemed to be following Nash.

As he locked eyes for a brief second with Nash he flushed. Hock quickly lowered his stare and dropped a coin on the pile. As he dealt the next round of cards Hock heard Nash ask quitely "Has anyone seen Billy?"

For a second there was pause as everyone seemed to be looking at Nash. if there was a glue that bound them it was that boy. Something about him was peculiar to Hock, but he'd never quite placed it. Hock knew in his heart of hearts that Billy was good. Better than good, something about him was pure.

Before any of them could answer Billy slammed through the door and ran towards the edge of the roof. As Hock and the others stood to see what he was pointing mutely at, he could hear the rumble of thunder?

Rain? There wasn't a cloud in the sky......
Last edited by Serious Paul on Wed Jun 16, 2004 2:14 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Post by Cain »

Hock and Amber were sitting on the roof, playing cards. Hock was losing, but didn't seem to mind so much, as he pushed Amber yet another half soy-bar. Speed had been trying to get into the game for a bit now, but Hock flatly refused to play cards with Speed when anything was in the pot. He had learned that lesson painfully.

As Billy popped up, Hock turned his head to greet the boy, but then the sound of motors reached his ears. "What the...." He leaned over to take a look, then suddenly sprang to his feet, scattering cards everywhere. "Holy fuck! Guys, take a look!"
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Post by Chopper »

Chopper was busy eating a few soy bars that he stole when Hock was concentrating on his hand.

"I don't need to look. I know that sound well."

Chopper instinctively placed his half eaten soy bar into one of his leather vest pockets, then thought twice and took the bar back out and handed it to Billy.

"Here kid. Compliments of Hock."

Then he headed to the roof door.

"I'm going down stairs to grab a warm beer and watch the front door."

As Chopper went through the doorway into the darkness of the stairway, the usual sound of the chains on his hips scraped each side of the door frame, causing some more of the weathered old cracked green paint to chip off.
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Post by Ares »

It was a hot day. As if the planes had been turned on their ear, and the skies now held the fires of hell. Suitable, perhaps, for the name of the place. No birds called out, and the air was still. Every now and then a passing car from the highway would kick up enough speed to send a 'breeze'. The must smell of exhaust fumes drifting down and filling the senses, intermingling with sweat and the stench of asphalt baked under a hot sun.

And then there was Ares. On the roof of the library, the young man was leaning over the edge somewhat as he was oft to do. Sure it was dangerous, but only to others. At least, that's what he thought.

He was staring across towards the river, towards the powerplant, when it happened. One moment, silence was thick. The only sounds being made were from those down below, hooting at one another or arguing about this and that. The next, Billy appeared, heralding the sudden clamor of motorcycles from seemingly everywhere at once.

A gun leapt to one hand, and a pair of binoculars to the other. He scanned the area to find the source of this disruption. His opposing hand already had a finger on the trigger, itching to squeeze. Not a soul was in sight, and already that roar of engine had spurred him to action.

Even though he wasn't sure why, he spoke a request to no one in particular, "Gonna need some rope up here."

There would be blood spilled the second a rider came into view. No one touches Billy.

Ares brushed a stray lock of hair from his dirty face with the barrel of his gun, while staring down the streets through those binocular lenses.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
What are you looking at?
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Post by Sticks »

Sticks looks grim, staring over the roof, analyzing the situation, then speaks.

"Go-gang coming in, more than one, all in colors. Nothin' in the Playground worth tumblin' over 'cept little ol' us, so looks like we need to bunker down.

Hock, Toyman: man the roof. You're are eyes and ears. We need to know where these guys are at all times. Toy: get some of your little surprises and get ready to do some bombing runs. Hock: keep an eye out in the astral. If you see a chance to take out a bunch of 'em, do it, but don't wear yourself out.

Ares, UG, Deke, Tiger: you're with me. We're going to board up the main doors and all the side entrances. This place is like a fortress, but we have to plug the holes, especially when they start to come through. We'll start by bracing my pool table against the front door.

Chopper, Nash: You guys take Billy and watch him, okay? Chopper, I want you to get your bike ready and pointed at the rear entrance. If this starts looking bad, you make a break-out with Billy while we rush 'em.

Speed, Amber: Check the basement, see if the sewer access is clear, check if anybody else is down around there. If not, head up to the roof and cover Toy and Hock.

If anybody's got better ideas, let's hear 'em. Otherwise, let's get to it. This is our turf."
Last edited by Sticks on Wed Jun 16, 2004 3:41 am, edited 3 times in total.
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Post by crone »

Amber looks up from the card game in surprise. She peers over the edge to see if she can spot the oncoming bikes. She says to Sticks:

"That sounds like a lot of bikes. A couple of go-gangs worth. I doubt we can hold them off for long."

She looks over at Billy, noticing the blood on his hands. "Are you OK, Billy? What happened?" She looks around for Nash, who usually looks after Billy when he's hurt.
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Post by Toyman »

UCAS, New Seattle, Puyallup Barrens, Hell's Kitchen, Devil's Playground, Library Roof
2063-06-01-1200 Local Time

Toyman was on the roof, physically, but his mind was far away. He'd finally scraped enough wire together to put in a Matrix jackpoint on the roof, and he was enjoying it. Some real deckers might call what he did turtle mode, but for him it was an escape from a world of pain and dark reality. It was also his link to intelligent conversation, not that he had anything against his friends in the gang. It was just... sometimes they had trouble keeping up with him.

Today, however, he wasn't talking. He'd decided if the world was going to scorch him, he'd fight back... He was slaying digital dragons along side people he'd never met and probably never would meet. People he didn't know in any way other than in the game. He couldn't really do any work up here anyways. His PC was too big to carry up just for this, but his slim sim-deck and gaming system was a snap to hook up.

Parking his in-game icon in a safe spot, he opened his meat eyes for a moment and glanced around. Hock and Amber were still flipping cards while Speed looked on, obviously unhappy about not being able to play, but evidently unwilling to get too far from the game. Chopper was there, too, eating as usual. Toyman reached out and grabbed his drink and took a sip while he swapped jacks. It was hot enough that even the simdeck's sensor overrides weren't blocking it all out. Something needed to be done, and Toyman knew just what it was...

A minute later he had finished assembling Haze. He ordered Haze to hover just above his head and maintain relative altitude, providing him with a bit of a breeze. Just as he swapped plugs to get back to his game, he saw Billy come up. As the sensations of the real world faded out, dampened by the simdeck's sensory overrides, he thought he could hear a buzzing in the distance. Well, probably not his problem... If the gang needed him, they'd let him know, and there were dragons to slay...

The real world had almost faded out when Sticks said, "Hock, Toyman: man the roof. You're are eyes and ears. We need to know where these guys are at all times. Toy: get some of your little surprises and get ready to do some bombing runs." Toyman snapped out and logged off. Evidently he wasn't getting any more killing done today. Plugging back into his RCD, he sent Haze soaring to get a better view of things. Disconnecting again while Haze moved off, he started assembling Mist, including snapping a few cans of smoke in. It sounded like he might need them. Jacking back in, he got Mist flying as well and jumped into Haze to find out what was going on around them.
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Post by Sticks »

Sticks turned to Amber: "You're probably right, but there's no way we can outrun 'em. Not on foot, not on the streets at least. If we can get into the sewers, we've got a shot at getting out of here in one piece. If not, we need to put 'em on the defensive, hold 'em off long enough for Chopper to get Billy out, then try to break through the bikes and scatter. Meet up somewhere else."
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Post by Ares »

Sharp eyes hidden behind shades surveyed the situation. The binoculars had since left his hand and were resting on the ground of the roof. Two guns were pointed in a direction down the street where he thought he heard the roar coming from most strongly. Two fingers were ready to pull hair triggers. The firing had not even begun, and already Ares could hear the waltz in the back of his mind. One, two, three, one, two, three. The burst impacts in each hand, thundering out loudly as bullets ripped into people.

Something shook his reverie. He heard his name. It was Sticks. And he was to... board up doors?

He spit over the roof onto the streets below. His guns were holstered and he headed downstairs, abandoning the binoculars on the roof where they might be more help to the watchers. Uncaring shades stared at Sticks with a certain intensity, clearly displeased with being forced to play interior decorator. But after several seconds, he resigned himself to his fate and began helping to shove the pool table against the door. Other furniture was soon to follow, blocking off windows and doors.

Off-handedly, he commented, "We'd better win, else we're trapped like rats. If it comes to that, I'mma go out and meet these scumbags on open ground. I'd rather be pickin' 'em off as they came."

He continued to growl his discontentment of the situation, but didn't object or stop working.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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Cain
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Post by Cain »

Hock nodded at Stick's order, and his eyes went slightly unfocused. "Uh... I can't tell much from here, but they're mad at sumthin. Pretty damn mad. Oh, and the zombies are with 'em."

Hock turned to look at Sticks. "Not much chance they're going to miss us, is there?"
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Post by Sticks »

Sticks sets down the medkit and survival kit he was carrying, then removes his extendable staff from the pool cue case and brings it to full length.

"Nope. Watch the ghouls in particular. They can see on the astral too. Might be you could use that, but they can see you too. Keep a low profile, no need to get sniped this early in the game."
Last edited by Sticks on Wed Jun 16, 2004 3:43 am, edited 1 time in total.
Deke
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Post by Deke »

Deke lay half-asleep on the asphalt, sprawled in a patch of shade behind one of the vents which poked up, here and there, from the roof top. His head rested on his arms, crossed over his armored jacket, face-down. His clothes had started out a number of different colors - mostly browns and greens - but like everything here, it was coated in a thick layer of ash. The others' clothes were always dusty, too, but not like Deke's; they didn't crawl around and through the wrecked skeletons of the buildings here. Except Billy, and he never seemed to get as dirty as Deke.

On each thigh was strapped a sawed-off shotgun, like a pair of oversized pistols. They were mismatched; one was older than the other, and didn't have the near-ubiquitous status readout above the grip; the other had a small screen, but it was cracked and only glowed a smear of faint red. On his back was his weapon of choice, a giant crescent of steel with a long silver handle. It was massive, but strapped across his broad back on a makeshift sling, it looked merely large.

His hair was a streaked gray, as well, volcanic ash and pollution clinging to his unwashed dreadlocks. He never washed his hair, only sometimes let one or another of the girls cut it for him. It made him nervous, having sharp steel so close; often, he pulled away with half the job undone, making his hair a mess of different-length dreads. Two comparatively straight tusks jutted from his lower jaw to rest outside his mouth, above his upper lip. His sleeveless t-shirt exposed enormously muscled arms completely covered in tattoos, scars, and burns. He wasn't wearing his boots; in summer, he was just as likely to leave them off, unless he was riding.

His eyes snapped half-open as he heard Billy's quiet footfall on the roof. The boy put him off, set him on edge, and so he kept his eyes half-open, staring, watching the child. Billy had blood on his hands; Deke's nostrils flared reflexively, seeking a scent like a dog. Hock turned to greet the boy, and Deke's eyes leaped to him; those featureless white eyes never stopped moving, always seeking the location of the most recent movement or sound.

As motors rumbled in the distance, Hock muttered and then exclaimed, "Holy fuck!" That brought Deke's eyes completely open, and set him moving. In one smooth motion, he brought his hands to his sides, and pressed off the ground, bringing his legs, coiled, beneath him. He sprung the five meters to the north edge of the roof, to land, crouching, next to Ares, like a dirty living gargoyle. His eyes widened further still as he saw the hundreds of choppers approaching them over the Southside bridge. He craned his head around, taking in the neighborhood all around him, from the nearing bikers to the bulk of the murmuring volcano behind him.

Deke didn't know it, but this was these were the worst blocks in the worst neighborhood of the worst district in Seattle; for sheer environmental devestation, only Glow City could compare. Their little piece of town was pressed between the lava flows and the river, where the dust and pollution, caught in the lee of the mountain, were worst. None of them, unless they left, would live past 30, if only from the toxins, carcinogens, and mutagens in the air. None of them really knew it; the few that could have understood refused to admit it to themselves. Mud pools bubbled and gas steamed from the ground, covering the entire Playground in a shroud of dirt, ash, and haze, like a filthy modern urban Hell.

Sticks started talking, barking out orders. Neither Deke nor Ares turned from their vigil until their names were called out, and then they exchanged a dubious look. They were to board up? And then <i>run</i> if things got bad? Ares rolled his eyes behind his flat shades and spit into the street below. Deke stood smoothly from his crouch and they both turned, reluctantly, toward the stairs.

Deke didn't understand. It didn't make any sense, all these bikes, all these different gangs together. It was like cats and rats and dogs all hunting together. Something had to be very wrong. He didn't understand, and not understanding made him want to hurt things. He quickly muscled the pool table against the north door with the aid of his comrades, then turned to grab one of the skateboard ramps. He trotted over to the east entrance and slid the ramp against the doors, leaving just enough room for him to slide outside if he needed to. The main entrance, which led south onto Main street, he ignored; someone would man it.

As Speed and Amber dashed down the stairs, Deke called in a voice just loud enough to be heard over the din, "Down two, on the north side. Where the big steam pipes go into the wall." There was a utility tunnel there, a maintenance access for city workers, which ran all the way from the pumphouse under Southside bridge to the boiler room in the basement. From the pumphouse, you could exit underneath the bridge and, from there, go almost anywhere.

Deke listened to the roar of the approaching motorcycles and thought maybe the tunnel wasn't the worst idea. Still, he wasn't leaving until he had to; each of them only had to kill ten or so of the older gang members, and Deke figured he could kill twice that many himself. The concept of injury didn't occur to him. He reached down to his sides and removed the shotguns from their breakaway holsters. The pads under the skin of his hands got close enough to the grips of his guns to communicate with them, and a pair of bright red crosshairs, twin horizontal and vertical lines, each one meeting where one of his guns was aimed, stitched across his view. They rose up from the bottom of his vision, and as he pointed the saw-offs through the crack he'd left in the door, he aligned both sets up on the lead rider, waiting for the riders to get close enough for a double-blast from his shotguns to tear the maximum amount of them into tiny pieces. He loved shotguns. You didn't have to think about a shotgun. You just pointed it near what you wanted destroyed, and pulled the trigger until it was. The only thing more fun was when they got close enough he could use his axe. Deke flexed his shoulders, feeling the weight of the steel crescent on his back. Hopefully, Sticks wouldn't make him run away too soon.
<hr>I don't do jack but fighting, lighting up the streets at night, playing hide-and-seek with a machete, sets of Freddie's spikes. Some say I'm rolling on, nothing but a dog now: I answer that with a "Fuck you," and a bow-wow. <font color="#5c7898">Treach</font>
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Chopper
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Post by Chopper »

As Chopper made his clammoring decent, he could hear Sticks. Sounds like he was giving orders. Chopper made a b-line to the cases of beer stacked in the corner of the Kitchen and then continued down the stairs. As he reached the main floor, he could see waves of dust lightly falling through the sun rays coming through the windows. It was dropping from the various wood and stone patterns in the cealing.

"Must be quite the gathering. It takes more then a few bikes to shake buildings like this.", Chopper shouted out, half expecting someone to hear him.

Chopper double timed it to the doorway on the other side of the littered room. Kicking the dented metal door with his boot, he decended down the next set of stairs that led to the basement. He ignored the sounds of books flopping onto the floor behind him as he sloppily made his way around the various book shelves.

There was his baby, a yellow and crome Harley Scorpion. Holstered in the right of the leather saddle bag was a crude street sweeper with a Harley-Davidson logo sticker stuck to the wooden handle. Chopper opened the bag to check the contents. Two boxes of black powder cubes.

"Frag, Where did I put those things?", Chopper mumbled.

Looking around franticly, Chopper spotted the crinkled red plastic bag next to his bed, "Ahh, there they are."

He grabbed a Jaw Breaker out of the bag and popped it into his mouth. The rest of the Jaw Breakers got stuffed into the saddle bag next to the powder cubes. Chopper briefly picked up the chainsaw holstered on the left side of the saddle bag and shook it to measure fuel. Almost full.
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Nash
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Post by Nash »

Nash was pissed off. She loved Billy to death, but why the hell couldn't she be part of the action?

She glowered a little while holding Billy's arm, following after Chopper a little before skirting Billy down into her own room.

He sat down with his legs crossed and she set to re-arranging his hair.

"Billy, why are you so dirty and...what's this? Blood? Are you hurt?"

She searched him gently, but found no apparent source. Worried, she tried to question him some more, but he wouldn't budge. Only continuing to stare at the floor and flicking his eyes uncomfortably back and forth. She could see something was wrong, so she took out her brush and started brushing his hair. The movement was soothing to him and felt him calm beneath her familiar and repeated action. When he leaned back on her, she gently picked up his hands, wiping some of the dirty off with the nearest rag. The noise outside became suddenly unbearably loud. She felt him clench, suddenly; his entire body stiffening into a bridge-like pose, pressing against her breastbone painfully.

"What is it, sweetheart? What's wrong?"

Timidly, Billy pointed to his right pants pocket.

"Billy...what is this?"
"I just don't want to die without a few scars, I say. It's nothing any more to have a beautiful stock body. You see those cars that are completely stock cherry, right out of a dealer's showroom in 1955, I always think, what a waste."-Palahniuk
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Post by UG »

UG is dozing with his back up against the low wall that runs around the perimeter of the roof. The whirring solar-powered fan in his oversized pith helmet keeps his head cool, and his shirtless torso and ragged cutoff shorts expose the most skin possible to the infrequent breezes felt up on the rooftops.

The rumbling engines cause him to open his eyes excitedly. He barely keeps himself from blurting, "Is there gonna be a parade?" Of course there's no parade; today's not a holiday, but that doesn't keep a troll from hoping.

It isn't until Sticks starts barking out quick orders that he realizes something might not be right. It does sound like a lot of engines, but there's too many to be any of the bordering gangs, so what's got Sticks so bugged? Now that he's a bit more awake, he sees pretty much everyone's on edge.

Still, he gets up and hunches his way downstairs to help everyone else without complaint. With him and Deke working the furniture, it doesn't take long to get everything arranged. Once the doors are all blocked up, he looks around in the silence, unsure of what to do, or even why they set the barricades.

He turns to Sticks, "Uh Boss, what're we doin?"
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Speed
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Post by Speed »

It's not like I wouldn't give it back. Shit. Take their cash one time and no more fun.

Speed turned, now with her back to Hock and Amber, staring off the edge of the roof at a window pane on the far side of the street. She knew it was just severely chipped paint, but she could almost see it melting. She figured that if she watched the slab of wood for long enough, she may see it drip onto some poor chap's head, giving him the false hope of potential sparatic rainfall.

Commotion suddenly arose behind her; Hock spouting off about something. Speed casually looked over her shoulder in curiousity, though with her brow crunced down. She did not like it when Hock - or any of them - left her out of the game. As she peered back, she saw Billy. Hock was standing - pointing. What was going on?

The sound filled the still, hot air and the inevitable danger loomed closer, fast. No one really knew what it was, but Sticks stepped up to the plate. And yet, Speed was struck with confusion, evidently the same confusion regarding his orders that plagued Deke and Ares. She caught them exchanging puzzled glances. Speed had been in the basement dozens of times. She knew where the sewer access was. She'd been in it. This was her home. She didn't understand why Sticks wanted her to go see if it was there, but she decided that questioning orders in a moment of urgency probably wasn't the best idea.

Speed waved Amber over, but took off light a bolt down the stairs before anyone. Maybe Sticks wanted the two of them to "check" the sewers to ensure no problems. Or to get them out of harms way. Yeah. That must have been it. Evacuate the ladies! Speed huffed. She knew she was no brute and had little for fighting skills beyond her grenades, but she hated always being stuffed to the back of the group, or into the corner, or wherever she was being protected. It frustrated her simply because without practice, how does one perfect?

As she neared the bottom of the first flight, Speed patted her pouch. In it, she held three grenades. As her hand felt the rough texture through the leather, she was reassured. Before jumping the final four stairs, she heard Deke's booming voice yell after them, reminding them, of where the utility tunnel was. Speed flew down the other flights of stairs with a ridiculously fast pace. Once down, she ran to the north wall. Amber, not far behind, helped and they pushed aside the boxes, revealing the grated door. Once opened, Speed hopped inside. It was dark, but the dark was no stranger and no fear to her. She whistled a few times...nothing but the echo could be heard. The tunnel was clear.
Last edited by Speed on Wed Jun 16, 2004 3:01 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Post by MissTeja »

X
To the entire world, you may be one single person, but to one person, you may be the entire world.
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Serious Paul
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Post by Serious Paul »

They’d rode on orders from on up high. Take everyone; kill them all. All except the boy. He was their ticket. They’d rode out as fast as they could, gathering as many people as they could find. A temporary alliance had been forged and promises made. It wasn’t often the Clan called in markers like this-a lot of people would try and claim this prize, but they were first, and he was in charge.

Octane wasn’t the smartest Troll on the planet, but he was cunning, like a feral wolf. He was also massive. Short by Troll standards he only stood nine feet tall, but his massive thick shoulders were nearly four feet thick and another six feet across. He was a squat powerfully built creature. Dermal deposits across his body made him look like an armored but misshapen tank. Two massive horns spiraled off his left shoulder, and a third grew off of his head, but he’d broken them all at one point or another. Now chrome attachments were part of his vanity.

Charging his hopped bike across the bridge, the second of the two, he was in the lead. For a second he wondered if the bridge would hold this much weight, but he wasn’t a man to show fear of any sort. Throttling up he sped down the street. A sudden movement across the roof caught his attention briefly making him grin. Good, they knew he was coming. Let them try and run. He’d ride them down like dogs.

Halting his bike in the middle of the intersection he stared straight ahead. Part of being in charge was looking like you were in charge. He knew how to look fearsome. As the others revved their engines and rode in they formed a loose circle around the building. Engines revved louder and louder. Metal clanged on metal.

With a roar he stood up on his bike, raising his hands skyward. Every engine cut as one, and a massive boom echoed through the streets. Lightning on a clear day?
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Serious Paul
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Post by Serious Paul »

They’d rode on orders from on up high. Take everyone; kill them all. All except the boy. He was their ticket. They’d rode out as fast as they could, gathering as many people as they could find. A temporary alliance had been forged and promises made. It wasn’t often the Clan called in markers like this-a lot of people would try and claim this prize, but they were first, and he was in charge.

Octane wasn’t the smartest Troll on the planet, but he was cunning, like a feral wolf. He was also massive. Short by Troll standards he only stood nine feet tall, but his massive thick shoulders were nearly four feet thick and another six feet across. He was a squat powerfully built creature. Dermal deposits across his body made him look like an armored but misshapen tank. Two massive horns spiraled off his left shoulder, and a third grew off of his head, but he’d broken them all at one point or another. Now chrome attachments were part of his vanity.

Charging his hopped bike across the bridge, the second of the two, he was in the lead. For a second he wondered if the bridge would hold this much weight, but he wasn’t a man to show fear of any sort. Throttling up he sped down the street. A sudden movement across the roof caught his attention briefly making him grin. Good, they knew he was coming. Let them try and run. He’d ride them down like dogs.

Halting his bike in the middle of the intersection he stared straight ahead. Part of being in charge was looking like you were in charge. He knew how to look fearsome. As the others revved their engines and rode in they formed a loose circle around the building. Engines revved louder and louder. Metal clanged on metal.

With a roar he stood up on his bike, raising his hands skyward. Every engine cut as one, and a massive boom echoed through the streets. Lightning on a clear day?
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Serious Paul
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Post by Serious Paul »

Billy stared silently over the edge of the Library. The others were behind him, saying things and moving, but the roar of powerful engines drowned them out, like a bad silent movie. He kept expecting some sort of orchestra to strike up at any moment. This was his fault. They were in danger because of him, because of what he had done.

Suddenly as if tugged by an unseen force he turned and stared at Hock. He watched as the words of power flowed from him, his nose elongating, and darkening. A dark band of black circles over each eye Hock chanted, moving his body rhythmically. He was summoning a spirit to help them.

Centering himself, Billy willed his energy, his life force into the sending. For a second his chest trembled, a ripple just barely visible beneath his skin, and then Hock threw up his arms and with an audible crash a lightning bolt struck the roof, blasting them backwards!

As Billy quickly regained his footing he grinned at the creature Hock had summoned. It stood at least ten feet tall, and was at least half that again thick and wide. Its body was made of broken red brick and scraps of rusted metal. Steam vented from the three openings on its back, and a large clock was embedded in its chest. It stood on four tree trunk thick legs that were barely three feet long each, and it had four arms-the upper two were as thick as barrels, while the lower two were like stumps. Jutting up from its horse like torso was the front end of some sort of car topped off with a toaster oven. Long wires hung from the spirit in every direction, some moving of their own free will, while others hung limply. A long tail that appeared to have once been a chain link fence of some sort with a massive plug attached to it whipped back and forth behind it.

The creature reared back on its hind legs, and swung its tail angrily. It was obviously ready to do its masters bidding.

Billy stared at the creature and concentrated his will. “Protect them, listen to what that one says.” He nodded towards Hock nearly imperceptibly.
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Serious Paul
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Post by Serious Paul »

“Angels” His voice was amplified by implanted speakers. “Angels we’re here to wreck everything and ruin your lives! Give up the boy and we’ll kill you quickly! Fight us and we’ll smash you!”

A roar went up from his warriors, and he grinned. This would be easy.
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Bishop
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Post by Bishop »

As Tiger stepped out onto the roof behind Nash, the air hit him. It was almost like stepping into water. Between the heat, the humidity, the ash and pollutants, the smell....it was almost sickening. But he gave a mental shrug. Just another day in the Playground.

He grinned inwardly at Hock's discomfort with Nash. The guy actually flushed when he looked at her. Damn bud, she ain't that bad, he thought to himself. As Nash asked about Billy, and the name seemed to be a summoning for the little boy, thing seemed to erupt.

Billy scampered over to the edge of the roof, pointing. Hock got up and sauntered over, then gave a little jump, exclaiming, which brought Ares over, Ug out of his apparent slumber, and Deke bounding over, belying his bulk. As Sticks started barking orders, Tiger glided over to the edge of the roof. He noted the look Ares and Deke exchanged, the same thoughts occuring to him as he identified at least 3 or 4 gangs, maybe even more. It was hard to tell through the ash and dirt they were kicking up.

"Hey Sticks, what the hell's going on here, bud? There's not just one gang down there. More like may be four or five. How and why the hell they gonna band together like..." The huge Troll's voice cut him off as it boomed out, shouting about the boy and destroying the Angels. "Well then. Guess that answers that question, huh."

He looked over to Sticks with a questioning look, who instinctively knew what Tiger was asking. Tiger grinned, liking the next part. He stepped up on the edge of the roof, looking down at the 100 or so assembled gang members, then looked to the big Troll. He recognized Octane, having seen him once or twice. Great. This wasn't going to be fun, but so be it. Billy was Billy..these monsters /weren't/ getting him. Even if Billy wasn't being quite honest with everybody. These thought raced through Tiger's head as he raised an arm and pointed at Octane. "You want him, you big ugly son of a bitch? Come and get him." Tiger grinned momentarily, then leaped down off the edge, expecting a hail of gunfire to follow him as rolled onto the roof, crouch walking over to the ladder access as Hock summoned his spirit.
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Cain
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Post by Cain »

Hock gasped at the huge thing that had appeared in front of him. His legs sagged under him, and he stumbled backwards into a half-crouch, half-sprawl. His eyes were glazed, unfocused, as he were dazed, possibly from the effort of such a huge summoning. Hock shook his head quickly, and began to speak.

"Spirit, we are all of the city, of the life and hope. Those who are coming want to destroy this hope. Will you help us?"
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Coasini
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Post by Coasini »

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Ares
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Post by Ares »

Damned one way or the other. The library was fortified. The sound of a hundred motorcycles idling and revving just to the north filled the neighborhood. Ares stood on the second floor, peering through some cracks in the wood where a window once was at all those who had gathered here. They gathered for some purpose, they wanted Billy. They stated they wanted Billy. And they said death would follow, one way or the other.

Ares wasted no time waiting for orders. He busted the board out with his elbow to give him a clear line of sight and a clear shot, then both hands went to his guns. They were out in a flash, dual ingrams. His eyes were clear and focused behind the dark shades, and the strangest of grins painted itself upon his features.

The crosshairs were aimed into the crowd, each gun at different targets. "If it's a fight you want..." The waltz in his head began. Left burst, one-two-three. Right burst, one-two-three. Re-aim at new targets. Left burst, one-two-three. Right burst, one-two-three. "...you came to the right place." Rinse, repeat.
In the back of his mind, he heard the din of the burstfiring of his guns. It played as a soundtrack, a waltz, timing his fingers and his aim at incredible speed. His eyes watched, unmoved, as bullets sprayed wildly into the crowd, sometimes ripping up flesh, sometimes tinging into 'cycles, sometimes hitting nothing but gravel.
He didn't care, he had four extra clips per gun, and a full sack of blood in his meat body.

Sticks' approval be damned, he wasn't going to let these outsiders draw first blood.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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Post by Toyman »

The cycles split at the bridge. Haze floated high overhead, watching them come in. As soon as Mist was up with the smoke cans attached, Toyman jacked back in. He jumped into Haze, reveling, just for a moment as he always did, in the sensation of flying, of being the machine, of seeing as it saw, of floating effortlessly in the hot, rising air.

Zooming in on the bikes as the lined up encircling the library, Toyman started picking out details: a Scorpion with custom detailing, a Kawasaki crotch rocket with such huge pipes it had to be packing Nitros or a completely custom engine, front-mounted gun ports on another... A sudden crack of thunder caused him to whip the view wildly.

For a moment he saw himself, lying on the roof. His body slack against the roof stairwell cover under the tarp. His rust-colored clothing, cutoff jeans and an old T-shirt, clung to him, soaked with sweat. His fingers played over the old RCD's controls. They weren't strictly necessary, but he often felt like he had a better connection when he used them. Besides, he usually needed to smack the wires back into place on his gear, it was always screwing up.

Sliding the view further, he spotted the City Spirit. It was huge and damn funky looking compared to the small spirits with which he'd played remote-tag before. Hock must be scared to call on something that big. He whipped the camera back down to spot the Troll giving the speech and zoomed in, blinded for a moment as the sunlight beating down was reflected by the metallic horns. Octane... what the hell are you doing, this isn't like you guys at all... What the frag is going on...

Jumping back to Captain's Chair, Toyman put Haze and Mist on stand-by and switched Black Ice and Baby Thunder to active, remotely activating them. A few moments later they burst out of his room and raced down the hall. A few beats later, staccato bursts of bullets started spraying. Switching back to his eyes in the sky, Toyman saw it was someone inside shooting out. Gotta be Ares...
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Post by Sticks »

Sticks stopped when the shooting started, then rolled his eyes. "Ares..."

Cupping his hands around his mouth and taking a deep breath, Sticks let off a shout through the old AC ducts:
"Open fire! Take the fuckers out!"

He took off downstairs to check on Amber and Speed. If the sewer was clear, then a couple extra guns and a well-placed grenade or two would be just the thing for those tightly-packed bikes out there.
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Post by Amber »

Amber was ashamed. Was she the only one who wanted to run? She headed downstairs after Nash and Billy. If they were going to be fighting, she would need more ammo. She stopped at the door of her room on the first floor. Hers because it was where she kept the overflow of magazines, posters and makeup not because she ever spent much time there. In the back corner were two crates, Eagle Security stencilled on the sides. From the first one she fished out an AK47, then a smartlink, and some ammo. She had never used it much but it seemed like today would be the day for it. Fitting the smartlink and loading the weapon calmed her nerves. “Quit yapping, just do it!” her brother had said to her often enough. Her pistol, fitted with a silencer as always, was strapped to her side. She filled her pockets with extra ammo for it. As a last thought, she grabbed her and Frankie’s twin transceivers. She didn’t want Billy going off without one.

On her way down to the basement, she checked in on Nash and Billy. Billy seemed upset but Nash was calming him. She caught Nash’s eye over Billy’s head Is he ok? She held up the transceiver so Nash could see it, then put it down near her.

She pelted down the last flight of stairs. Sticks had told her to check the tunnels, and she had been dallying. Speed was already pulling the last of the boxes away from the entrance. Amber ran to help.
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Tiger
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Post by Tiger »

Tiger slid down the ladder, loping over to the staircase, hopping up onto the railing and sliding down it, grinning to himself. The look on Octane's face had been priceless....he chuckled to himself as he hit the end of the banister, hopped onto the floor and darted into "his" room in the library, covering the ground with his namesake's speed.

Once he got into the little corner, he fastened the snapblades to his forearms, snicking them out and back in to make sure they were working. He pulled his Manhunter out, slammed a clip in and pulled the slide out, then let go, letting a round ratchet into the chamber. He sighed. Time to go kill. Just then Amber burst through the room, with a worried look on her face as she hurried down into the basement to help Speed, and gunfire erupted from up above. With the distinctive three round bursts, it had to be Ares. Tiger thought, "Well, you started it. Now go finish it." He loped out of the room, nodding to Chopper and Deke, who was just finishing checking his shotgun's load, and took up a post by a boarded up window, waiting for the rest of the guys to open fire, as well. They'd open up Hell on these bastards.
_
I wanted you to see what real courage is, instead of getting the idea that courage is a man with a gun in his hand. It's when you know you're licked before you begin but you begin anyway and you see it through no matter what.
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Serious Paul
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Post by Serious Paul »

Ares smashed the wood out of the second story window with a grin. It was time to show them what sort of Angel he really was. As the wood cracked, then broke he pushed it outward extending his arms. Firing these weapons with smart glasses didn't do them justice, he thought briefly, someday I'll need to get a real smart link. The rest of his thoughts were drowned out by the noise of engines and the smell of ash.

With both weapons aimed he smiled and opened fire. Near silent bolt on metal action that was almost hard to sense in the chaos. He watched as he sprayed down the gangers-they were too close to bother with aim. Screams went up as first one then two, then three of them went down-Ares wwas able to pick up the slight jerk of their bodies as they were hit, then their tumbling arcs as they crashed to the ground. Grinning madly he screamed in rage as he fired.

Suddenly the cement next to him sparked then fragmented-they were returning fire! He ducked back behind the window. Checking the display on his weapons he realized he'd fired about six rounds from each. This was going to be a long day...
Toyman
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Post by Toyman »

Haze and Mist just weren't going to help in this situation -- it wasn't like the gang didn't know where people were, the enemy was everywhere, all the way around them. Toyman swapped his drone set, and as soon as his cars were online he sent Baby Thunder to a spot under a table near the stairs on the ground floor down into the basement, the set closest to the access tunnel. He sent Black Ice to that tunnel, preparing them to act as rear guard and to cover the escape he feared would be necessary soon.
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Cain
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Post by Cain »

Hock finished talking to the spirit, then scrambled over to the edge of the building. He rubbed his eyes for a moment, leaving a mask of soot and ash around his eyes. His eyes narrowed, as he focused on Octane. A faint chant escaped his lips; it sounded impressive, but those close suspected that he was merely reciting: "ohshitohshitohsitoshit..."

Hock pointed a trembling finger at Octane, and his chant increased in speed. Suddenly, Hock jerked back, as /something/ left his fingers and went flying down into the crowd. The force knocked the novice shaman into an undignified pile, and he landed hard on his butt.

Down below, the bolt of force hit the ground at Octane's feet, then silently exploded outward, leaving a heat shimmer in the air. The gangers staggered and groaned, but right then it was impossible to tell how hard they had been hit.
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Serious Paul
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Post by Serious Paul »

Octane grinned. he wasn't the type to lead from the rear. Cordite and screams-it made his heart pump nitro. One of the Angels was firing out of a window on the second story of the building-some sort of SMG. Who ever it was, he was deadly, but he couldn't be every where. Leaving a cluster of his bikers to deal with the lone gun man he lead the biggest of his troops towards the main entrance. They were going to batter the doors, and force their way inside. Octane was sure once he was inside that this battle would be over.

Suddenly he heard the sound of crunching metal, and screeching tires. Octane whipped around in time to see several bikes collide on the street for no apparent reason, their riders looking confused and angry. As the pile up increased in size, a cold terror clutched Octane's stomach. Magic.

If there was one thing Octane didn't understand it was Magic. It frightened him in a way no physical opponent could. Several of the ghouls had already detached themselves from their contingent and were attacking something he couldn't see. Maybe bringing the Zombie Brain Eaters along hadn't been such a bad idea after all?

His thoughts were interrupted by a pounding sensation in his mind. At first it was like a headache but quickly it grew to the full force of sledgehammers beating his brain out. Retching Octane gripped his head.

"ARRRRRRRGHHHHHHHHHH" Several of the others around him were driven to their knees or unconscious. Octane's forehead broke out in a cold sweat as the sensation passed. His vision was blurred with black and brown spots that flashed before his eyes. The Angels had a mage!
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Chopper
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Post by Chopper »

Chopper watched Nash comforting Billy as he started up his Harley. The motor joined in the symphony of pops and gurgles heard just outside of the building, piercing the noise, magnified by it's echos inside, like an opera singer performing a soloette backed up by a orchistra of faint violins.

"Nash, I'm going to cover the ramp."

With a twist of his right wrist, the metal beast bucked forward. Two headlights guided the bike to the stairs at the rear of the basement. The front tire hit the bottom of the cart ramp with a matallic thud and stopped. Chopper hit the brights, another pair of larger headlights joined the first set, illuminating the double metal doors at the top.

Whoever comes through those doors will see a bright light at the end of the tunnel when they die.
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Post by UG »

UG ran back up the stairs, Thumper in hand. The gigantic "mace" was the first thing he reached for when he got down to his room. There wasn't time to kit himself out fully, but he also snagged his makeshift sandwichboard style breastplate, slinging it over his head while he ran back up the stairs, dancing out of Chopper's way as he went. It wasn't his full suit, but it would have to do.

Now back on ground level, he looked around quickly for a door to cover. The main entrance had the biggest doors. He was the biggest Angel, so he'd protect them. No one else was rushing out to meet the guys outside, so it must be a siege. He looked back to see if the stairs to the roof were clear in case they had to retreat further into the keep, but then Sticks' voice wafted up from some recess of his brain, like a radio heard from a passing car, "If we can get into the sewers, we've got a shot at getting out of here in one piece."

So we're takin' tha secret passage out da back, den.

He stood to the side of the main doorway, fiddling with the giant belt buckles under his arms that connected the thick sheet metal protecting his back to that on his chest. Everything in place, Thumper firmly in hand, he waited for the bad guys to try and come through that door.
Last edited by UG on Wed Jun 23, 2004 6:14 am, edited 1 time in total.
Sticks
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Post by Sticks »

For a second all he could do was stare. 'Look at them-they're so many of them...' but he quickly shook the shock off. He was the leader, it was his responsibilty to getthem moving. Even though he jsut wanted to run and hide, he stood up a little straighter.

He's got the others moving with a few brief barked orders. Ares was already laying down a covering fire to protect them, Hock looked a little a pale. he knew it wouldn't be long before Deke and UG were fighting. 'Damn its all happening so fast!' He needed more time to think.

By now he hoped Nash and the others had the Billy moving. 'What the hell do they want with him?He's just a kid...somethings wrong here.'

"Hock we've got to move. Deke and UG won't be able to hold this many for long. We need to get somewhere we can lat low and sort this out." Hock nodded distractedly and Sticks bolted towards the door on the roof.

They'd fight their way out of here, hopefully managing to throw their attackers off balance and escape. If not....he didn't want to think about that.
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Game Master
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Post by Game Master »

"Octane's people will have missed that."

"Undoubtedly. Greed and carelessness often go hand in hand."

"We're ready to ride."

"How many?"

"250 total. All ours."

"Good lets ride."
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