Down in the Gutter: IC, Surviving to See Tomorrow is Goal #1 Options

[rob]

00:21:04 Saturday, November 1, 2070 - At the intersection of 126th Ave NE and NE 142nd Ln
Bockscar

Jesus, these guys are quick. How the fuck did they get this fucking close to me?

Roll left and grab the grenade from my pocket as I hop to my feet and slam against the wall. Half-shout, so the kids nearby can hear over the muzzle reports and the sound of spall, "Wait for the smoke and run for it!"

Press up against the wall and bellow "FRAG OUT!!!" at the top of my lungs. Hopefully the mother fuckers will think this is a real boom. Slam my arm against the wall in a backhand throw and hope the grenade flies somewhere near them. Inshallah. Grab the foregrip and crouch to follow it with some suppressive fire.

[adamu]

00:22:57 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Plastic Sushi and the intersection of NE 141st Way and NE 124th Place

Grack

As he applied himself to his hard-earned repast, the Hero of our story began to reflect upon the sorts of possibilities that might be available to him, having been taken under the wing of a decidedly superior class of entity.

He had a very vivid imagination, and in the course of chewing one Hot 'n' Spicy Hotate Surprise© he saw huge underground chambers, walls shaking under the onslaught of several thousand decibels of goblin rock, bits of rubble occasionally being shaken from the ceiling. In the Great Hall were dozens of tables groaning under the weight of all manner of victuals and viands - steaks of beef and boy, sweetmeats from creatures great and small, and of course Sushi Shack© cuisine delivered fresh every day. There would be fountains flowing with only the finest synthahol, and nude elven beauties would kneel at his feet, hoping and praying that Queen Nevada would grant them one moment of affection from Lord Grack - should he even deign to stir himself from his opulently cushioned throne.

All this and more was within his reach. Indeed, so great was his vision that the unsteady fluorscent lighting of the automated shop grew in luminescence, and indeed the whole of the street outside became noticeably brighter. And there, approaching the restaurant's doors, was his future Minister of Drink, Duke Thumper - regaled in all his splendor. Indeed, he seemed to glow with a dazzling variety of hues and shades - bright and fiery, but run through with lines of gray and black. It was a brilliant manifestation, but Our Visionary Hero suddenly noticed that it caused his Broken Tusk symphony to recede far from his ears, to become an ever more faint itch in the back of his auditory nerve.

That would not do, and he closed his eyes - and to his wondrous and marvelous consternation found that he could still see! Indeed, as his boon companion drew ever closer, this new Color World defined itself further - not as you or I would define "define," but rather it became clearer in ways that those of us less blessed would find impossible to comprehend. And though he could not yet discern the significance of this dazzling array of light and texture, he knew, deep in his heart, that there were volumes to be learned from it, if only he could unlock the Color World's mystery.

As bits of soyrice tumbled from his cheekholes, he leaned back in his hard-plastic chair and watched his friend come through the door in a way he had never before imagined.

[pragma]

00:23:00 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Plastic Sushi and the intersection of NE 141st Way and NE 124th Place
Thumper

"On it," was all that Thumper grunted at Legion before starting to root through the dwarf's corpse. The gun was easy to find as was the ammunition the dwarf had. A few paltry bullets. He turned it over in his hands.

The gun, even in its dingy, dented and overused state was awe inspiring. Guns, like martial artists, were things of the utmost beauty. This was one of the world's pieces of art. Not it's best by any stretch of the imagination, but something to be respected and treasured.

A crash from the Sushi Shack brought Thumper back to the present. He placed the gun in his jacket's pocket after trying his hardest to turn the safety on and then checked the dwarf's other important posessions: pocket change (a little was there), shoes (too old to be worth the trouble) and any knives or other little trophies that were floating around.

Picking up his new barbed wire bat he stood up and walked into the sushi shack. Forgetting who he was talking to he shouted at a normal person's volume: "Legion wants to roll out." Coming to his senses he started walking towards this story's noble hero to tap him on the shoulder.

[Unarmed]

00:23:00 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Plastic Sushi and the intersection of NE 141st Way and NE 124th Place
Doc

Doc was able to swiftly locate a lighter in the Elf's pockets, as well as a nearly-empty packet of cigarettes. He studied the chain that the deceased metahuman in front of him had once used as a weapon, but left it lying on the pavement. Don't need dead weight. Shakily, he raised the lighter to his face and lit the cigarette, taking a long drag but staying weary of the flame that flickered several inches away from his face. He looked over at Legion.

"Hey, you want the rest of these?" Without waiting for a response, he tossed the skinny human the three remaining cigarettes. Satisfied with his search of the elf's body, he stood up, walking over to Legion. "Where are you headed, anyways?" He asked, in a gravelly voice. Doc watched Grack eating through the window. Disgusting.

[grendel]

00:25:18 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Plastic Sushi and the intersection of NE 141st Way and NE 124th Place
Legion

Another pack of Red Apples and twenty three nuyen was the bounty from the ork's body. Legion tapped out a cigarette and lit up, letting the harsh smoke draw the tension from his body. He pocketed the pack that the troll flipped to him, planning on saving those for later. Standing, he glanced around one more time before gesturing south along the street.

"Let's move, people. Day's not over yet."

[Fresno Bob]

01:50:16 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – 1035 116th Avenue NE - Overlake Medical Research Center
Aziz

Wake up

Aziz's eyes snapped open, and he took in a gasping deep breath, arching his back, and then falling heavily down onto the bed. He breathed hard and looked around the room. It was quite empty besides himself and a few softly humming and beeping machines. He looked down and saw that his arms, legs, and most of his torso were almost completely bandaged, the clean white cloth standing out against his dark skin.

Where's my clothes... Where's Shade and Felix... ?

[adamu]

00:25:18 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Plastic Sushi and the intersection of NE 141st Way and NE 124th Place

Grack

Just as Duke Thumper was about to touch is shoulder, Our Hero snapped his eyes open. How positively delightful, he thought. What a delicious way to deceive one's enemies, to be able to see with one's eyes closed.

He could tell his friend wanted to leave, so he picked up his plate of soyshi, got up, and promptly tripped over a table, nearly falling headlong and definitely spilling his food all over the establishment's unconscionably filthy floor. Apparently, while some things in the Color World showed up much better, things like tables did not. And neither did soyshi, as he found out when he tried to pick his up off the floor. With a moment's thought, however, he shifted to his usual way of seeing and managed to retrieve his precious cargo.

In case The Duke wished to converse, he lowered the volume of his music as he walked out the door, just in time to hear Master Legion, the victorious leader of the dreaded Hammerpack - Overlords of Kingsgate - utter his commands: "Let's move, people. Day's not over yet."

Grack obediently headed down the lane in his general's wake, happily munching his only-slightly-soiled repast. The celebration must be somewhere else. At least The Obstacle was coming along quietly. Turning to The Duke, he inquired about the location of the now long-overdue festivities with his usual eloquence. "VUT - where the fuck's the fucking party? Need a drink. Need eunabo to break, to hear scream, to seed."

[Unarmed]

00:25:21 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Plastic Sushi and the intersection of NE 141st Way and NE 124th Place
Doc

Doc felt a wave of revulsion wash over him as Grack stepped out of the tiny, dilapidated building. He took a long drag on his cigarette, and, before the flame on the end got too close to his burn-scarred face, tossed the butt to the ground and stamped it out with a massive booted heel. Given the events of the day, when Grack spoke, Doc was unable to supress his usual sarcasm and bitterness. His head pounded, and he was nearing the end of his rope. Doc spoke, his voice a mixture of anger and impatience.

"Was that even a fucking sentence? Your fucking gang is dead and the first thing you want to do is go party? You've got some fucked up priorities, man. How about we work on staying alive?"

Without even waiting for a response, Doc began trudging southward. However, Doc's muscles tensed. If Grack wanted to respond with violence, he would be ready for it. He hoped it wouldn't come to that, though. Doc didn't really want to offend any of them, even Grack. He was just tired of trying to pretend to be someone he clearly was not.

[pragma]

00:25:21 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Plastic Sushi and the intersection of NE 141st Way and NE 124th Place
Thumper

Thumper needed a drink, Grack needed a party and the big guy needed to calm down. Peacekeeper wasn't a role he was wellsuited for, but he'd hate to have to kick the ass of someone who'd helped him out so recently.

His wires came on almost instinctively as the big guy tensed up. They didn't need another fight.

He spoke to the air.

"Not all dead. Hammerpack's a bunch of hard motherfuckers, we'll pull through. Then we'll party like it's no one's fucking business."

[adamu]

00:25:21 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Plastic Sushi and the intersection of NE 141st Way and NE 124th Place

Grack

Given twenty-twenty hindsight, it might certainly be held that Our Hero had chosen a most inopportune time to lower the volume of his earbuds. Indeed, no sooner had he expressed the urgency he felt regarding a well-earned celebration than The Prisoner cast a vicious aspersion on his elocution. That affront to young Grack's honor alone would have been more than sufficient to earn The Obstacle a quicker death than he deserved, but what he said next proved unsettling shut up indeed. 'Your *ahem* gang is dead...'? That was cheeky, and certainly not to be taken at face value! Yet Duke Thumper's rebuttal was more vut! shut the FUCK up......ah, yes, his rebuttal was more perplexing than comforting. Not all dead. Well, of course they were not all dead, or could he have meant Buunda!!! Shut it or die!...erm, as I was saying, it could have meant that there were in fact very few survivors ENOUGH!!! Silence. Must think!

Head spinning. Looking side to side. Thumper still talking. 8-Ball scum still spewing quaalz. Back and forth. Can't hear. Won't hear. I have the power now. Axe hits ground. Food hits ground. Legs moving. Hands up. Filthy troll looming closer, closer, so close now. Fingers reaching....

[Abbandon]

00:30:38 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Intersection of NE 124th Ave and NE 132nd St
Fool

Fool stood up and peeked around the corner of the building Child had been sitting against and looked down the main drag of Kingsgate. Even with his enhanced vision he couldnt see very far thanks to it being night time and also because of the smog. He saw shadows but as he tried to focus in on them or just follow them they would disappear. With everything that had happened tonight it was all to creepy.

Turning back to Child he tried to search through his gang life knowledge and his extensive movie plot knowledge to try and find a solution to his question. "I can't think of to many things to do. Its not everyday your entire family gets wiped out in only a few hours.....You know I remember this gang called the hammerpack..I think its lead by some dude named Legion or something? Have you heard of him? People say he is pretty bad ass and even when his old gang was crushed he survived and even rebuilt his old gang into the current one. Maybe we should try to link up with his gang. Him and some of his boys probably know exactly how we feel and at the very least we would have something in common....

You got any idea's or know of a reason not to try and join up with the hammerpack?? I think we should hop on your bike and rocket towards hammerpack turf and try to find this Legion guy...."

[adamu]

00:25:23 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Plastic Sushi and the intersection of NE 141st Way and NE 124th Place

Grack

Gromog!!! someone yelled.

Must have been me, when flying.

Jumped high. Very high. Weight came down on its head. One hand on ear, one on throat, twisted. Brought it down like a steer.

Me on top.

FilthyvuttingpigfuckerinthewayofloveHammerpacknotdead.

Both thumbs on throat. Bits of chewed rice fall on its face. Waste.

Cheek looks soft. Its trollpig face is big. I open wide...

[Unarmed]

00:25:25 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Plastic Sushi and the intersection of NE 141st Way and NE 124th Place
Doc

Doc was lucky. Despite being somewhat prepared for Grack's assault, he was still caught mostly off-guard by it. If Grack had been wielding his axe at the time, it was quite likely that, in his state of rage, he could have easily killed Doc outright. But this was not the case.

The ork quickly and efficiently wrestled Doc to the ground, performing a maneuver that obviously just came naturally to him. As young Grack's thumbs tightened around Doc's throat, the troll smiled. Fangs moved in towards Doc's face, but before they could tear through his flesh, he managed to flip Grack over his body and away from him, back towards Legion and Thumper. He quickly scrambled to his feet, not making a move to attack the Ex-Hammerpacker, but remaining wary in case he attacked again. His eyes moved to fall on Legion.

[Meriss]

00:35:08 Saturday, November 1, 2070 - North on 124th Ave, NE

Ink

Ink moved up 124th with a singular stealth, focusing on his immediate suroundings. His stomach growled. Madre de dios, it's not even one am, homes. I hope the Bank is open. Ese, I'm hungry.

He started picking his way up towards the Pizza Bank, eyes and ears open.

[WinterRat1]

00:21:07 Saturday, November 1, 2070 - At the intersection of 126th Ave NE and NE 142nd Ln
Bockscar, Nevada, Badmarsh

Bockscar's plan was a good one. Use the pepper punch grenade to create a smokescreen and give the bad guys a little threat to make 'em think twice, then follow that up with some suppressive fire to keep their heads down and give the team an opening to bolt south.

Unfortunately, the Raiders never let up with their suppressive fire, alternately pouring lead down the alley and preventing him from even being able to stick his head out long enough to return the favor.

Sick of this seeming stalemate, he decided that it was time for Plan B. Pointing to Nevada, he yelled, "Come with me!" While to Badmarsh and his ladies, he ordered, "Hold here. Call Legion, get us some backup!"

Nevada nodded her pretty head in acknowledgement, and he immediately ran to the front door of the building they were hiding behind. The door was rotted and looked fairly weak. Raising his foot, he easily kicked the door in and entered the building, Nevada close behind. Grinning at the idea of flanking the Raiders, the smile disappeared as he heard the unmistakable crack of a hunting rifle or other large caliber weapon.

Turning quickly, both he and Nevada whirled just in time to look through the window and see Badmarsh fall to the ground, blood spurting from a nasty wound in his chest...

[rob]

00:21:07 Saturday, November 1, 2070 - At the intersection of 126th Ave NE and NE 142nd Ln
Bockscar

SON OF A BITCH! flashes across my mind as bits of brick getting chewed off the wall over my left shoulder flash across my face. This ain't gonna work.

Gotta get around them, before they start to move. Tell Badmarsh to stick here and take the lady and her shotgun towards the door of the house. It kicks in easily and I duck inside.

Just in time for another fucking rifle crack... Must be that dude who took out the kid earlier. Guess that's what they were trying to pin us here for... Can't stay pinned, where the hell is the sniper... Badmarsh is down.

Gotta get the fucking submachinegunners - sniper's no threat to me here. Turn back towards them and move out; listening for the stacatto of their guns.

[Vegas]

00:21:07 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – At the intersection of 126th Ave NE and NE 142nd Ln
Nevada

With the constant spray of gunfire coming from the alley it meant that she wasn’t running anywhere anytime soon. She might be ballsy, but she wasn’t stupid. It seemed Bockscar had the same thought only an instant before her and was demanding she go with him. Seeing the plan as it formed in the big guy’s head she nodded and followed him, assuming Badmarsh and the girls could cover themselves as they had about the same firepower as she could have provided if she stayed.

All of that confidence shattered as a rifle crack broke their otherwise silent approach. She whipped around, shotgun up and ready, as the sound came from behind. She turned fast enough to watch Badmarsh fall, the amount of blood he was loosing was a clear sign he took a direct hit.

“Shit!� she hissed quietly. She was torn. Go back and try to help Badmarsh which might be futile, and deadly. Or stay with Bockscar and take out the Raiders waiting in the alley blowing through their ammo stashes.

[grendel]

00:25:31 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Plastic Sushi and the intersection of NE 141st Way and NE 124th Place
Legion

Legion's instinctive reaction to Grack's shout was that they were under attack again, his sword whispering free of its sheath once more to seek blood. He grimaced in disgust, though, when he realized that the young ork was seeking blue on blue violence.

"Thumper," he gestured the ork towards the melee, although it wasn't really necessary. The ork was already moving to intercede between the 8-Baller and Grack. Legion was impressed by the strength displayed by the troll: he'd seen Grack in a killing mood before and the kid was tenacious. Thumper got his hands on Grack as the young ork was coming off the ground, grappling him long enough for Legion to get a hand on one of Grack's tusks and yank his head around. The ork's jaws closed on Legion's hand out of reflex, but adrenaline erased the pain for the time being.

"HEY! DREKHEAD! HEY! FOCUS! LOOK AT ME! THE PACK IS DEAD! OUR BROTHERS ARE DEAD! BUT WE ARE ALIVE! THE TIME FOR KILLING IS OVER! IT'S TIME TO LIVE!" Legion thundered at Grack, staring into the young ork's eyes, willing him to listen for once in his life. When he saw the homicidal mania begin to dim and reason once again begin to assert itself, he motioned Thumper to step back, glancing around at the pitifully small band of once proud warriors.

"This goes for all of us. We've got to go to ground for a little while. Get back to our roots. This war is over. Now it's time to rebuild." Legion stared around at his warriors, trying to impress upon them the effort that would be required to lay the groundwork for a new gang, a new empire. He turned back to Grack, grasping the ork's hand in a warrior's grip, wrist to wrist.

"Our time will come again, brother. I swear to you. Remember this day, remember this rage. Our time will come again. But not yet."

Stepping back, Legion motioned down 124th towards the south.

"Let's move."

[adamu]

00:25:40 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Plastic Sushi and the intersection of NE 141st Way and NE 124th Place

Grack

Filthpig8-BallerstandingtheregloatingwhilecerriholdME!!!!!!!!!!!!

Fire. Fire. Hot in chest. Ears ringing.

Cerri all dead? Yes. Not only cerri, eth gone now too. Killed by Legion.

Shrug Thumper off. One cerri left. He follows Legion, so I will stay with him.

"I will not turgma. Many years, I have not done turgma."

Pick up axe.

"Vut. Kill now, kill later, out-eth talk to me that way, out-eth die." Say it loud.

Walk south. Go back for things later.

Today is not a happy day.

Switch chip. Genghis Fang. "Vendetta Forever." All the way up.

Tear off sash, leave it lying in mud.

[Unarmed]

00:25:48 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Plastic Sushi and the intersection of NE 141st Way and NE 124th Place
Doc

Doc rubbed his neck, and brushed himself off as he straightened to his full height now that the situation had been defused. The barest hint of a smile crossed Doc's face as he watched the two ex-hammerpackers converge on their companion. He watched the scene with rapt interest, awaiting Legion's reply to the violence, and ready to deflect any criticisms leveled against him for his role in inciting it. Still, after Legion finished talking to the ork, none came. Thanks to the exchange before him, however, Doc realised two things: Firstly, that Legion intended to reform the gang and as one of the first people to join up with him after the gang war, he was in a unique position to become someone important in this new unit. Secondly, he realised that all the rumors about Legion's personal charisma and honor were true. He handled the situation perfectly, to Doc's eyes, although somehow Doc doubted that Grack saw things the same way. Grack spoke, as if to no one in particular, although it was obviously addressed to him.

"Vut. Kill now, kill later, out-eth talk to me that way, out-eth die."

Soon I won't be out-eth, Doc thought. He took off his armored jacket, tearing off the once proudly displayed 8-ball patch on the back, and dropped it in the mud near Grack's sash.

"Now I know why these guys follow you, why so many ended up face down in the mud here to defend the hammerpack. You don't try to change people, but you change them anyways."

Doc knew that those who most desperately wanted people to believe they were loyal were the ones that proclaimed it the loudest, but he spoke anyways.

"I'm your man."

He turned on his heel and followed Grack careful to keep his distance. Gotta let the boy be. Smoke from the ashes of a building rose in the distance, it's tendrils winding up slowly into the sky. The fires are out, for now.

[grendel]

00:37:24 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – southbound along NE 124th Place
Legion

Legion sighed, holding his left hand to the wound at his side. Every once in a while Grack showed a remarkable level of insight. With a weariness he felt more in the back of his mind than in his body, he pulled off the red sash with its dirty chevrons that marked him as leader of the Hammerpack. Now, soaked with his own and others' blood, it was an epitaph to war. Unwilling to part with it, he folded it sloppily in half twice before stuffing it in his back pocket. Glancing up, he met Thumper's eyes, the young ork holding his own red sash in his hands. Worldlessly he pitched it to the ground next to Grack's. Legion nodded.

"Keep up with him, keep him tracking straight. Grab what you can if we come across anything but otherwise push south. When we hit LoCoS turf, hold up."

Thumper nodded, heading off in Grack's wake. Legion followed, flanked by the troll 8-Baller. A wry smile graced his lips and he flicked ash from his cigarette.

"I guess I can't go calling you 8-Baller anymore. Got a name, brother?"

"Doc," replied the troll, holding out one massive, scarred hand.

"Legion." The pair shook, wrist to wrist. A snippet of troll thrash carried back from where Thumper and Grack walked.

"No one can change another person. That's something you have to do for yourself. All I do is show them the possibilities." The metaphor came easily to Legion, and he hated himself for it.

"Most of us out here are hyenas. We move in groups but there's no real organization. With organization comes power. You can turn an uncoordinated mob of dogs into a hunting pack of wolves. I'm going to raise a new wolfpack, like a phoenix from the ashes. I am going to coerce, ally, or subvert every other gang in the Kingsgate area. And then I am going to erase Raider Nation."

Legion took a last drag from his cigarette before flicking the butt into the gutter. He smiled again at Doc, although there was nothing but predatory fury in this expression.

"Welcome to the party."

[Meriss]

00:38:09 Saturday, November 1, 2070 - The Pizza Bank

Ink

Ink arrived at the Bank with no trouble. Waltzed in with his usual Cubano non-chalance. Ordered a slice and energy drink. Paid Luigi five nu for the lot, and waltzed out again.

Now he was sitting beside the steps of the Bank, munching the still warm pizza, drinking the high caffine energy drink and thinking.

Ese, what am I going to do? LoCoS 'r all muerte, half the Gate burned to hell. Don't know who's living or who's dead. Mano, what to do? Where to go?

[Unarmed]

00:38:35 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – southbound along NE 124th Place
Doc

Doc mostly just smiled to himself as Legion talked. A little long on rhetoric, perhaps but smart. And Driven. Almost scarily so. Doc hadn't really planned on being part of a gang that owned all of Kingsgate, but it was looking like his new boss was aiming high, and Doc liked that. He was a bit concerned with Legion's implications that the Ultraviolet Nights would be brought into the fold, but he figured that if Meltdown were to die, then the UV Nights would mostly forget about the vendetta they still had against him. Hopefully. But, there was hope ahead. It seemed as though there would be much of the things that Doc enjoyed in his future. Bashing in heads, making drugs, and consolidating his personal power.

"Glad to be here."

The time seemed to pass swiftly as the quartet walked down 124th Place, with Thumper leading Grack on ahead, and Doc and Legion walking mostly in silence, new allies deciding not to waste time on idle conversation. Doc still hauled along his duffel bag, full of nearly all his remaining important possessions.

Doc estimated that they were now less than a minute from the "official" line of LoCoS turf. The Pizza Bank should be up on the corner there. Is that someone sitting on the steps?

[grendel]

00:38:35 Saturday, November 1, 2070 - The Pizza Bank, NE 137th Pl and 124th Ave NE
Legion

The signs were becoming unmistakable, tags alternating along buildings and alleyways. Legion pursed his lips around another cigarette, curious as to how this might play out. All he wanted was passage through for his gang. Ahead was the Pizza Bank, a cheap restaurant that was a favored LoCoS hang-out. Doc gestured minutely towards it, although Legion already saw the young lookout sitting on the steps. He glanced towards Grack and Thumper, the two orks still moving purposefully south along the street. Somehow Grack had managed to get a hold of something to eat again, while Thumper looked morosely at things he wanted to bang with the crowbar they'd found two blocks back.

This might be a job which requires a finer level of diplomacy than either of them are capable of. Legion sighed, flicking his cigarette away into the gutter. Crossing the street, he dressed his face in as neutral an expression possible.

"Hey, LoCo," he called to the young ganger on the steps of The Pizza Bank. "Got a cigarette?"

[Meriss]

00:38:35 Saturday, November 1, 2070 - The Pizza Bank, NE 137th Pl and 124th Ave NE

Ink

Ink looked around the street and IDed the the speaker. A medium sized shadow, followed by two big ones and one huge, put the two large shadows together with the huge one and add the fourth medium sized one and you had the Black Plague.

Shit,shit,shit,shit! Mother fuckin' pendejo puntas!

He chomped the last of his pizza slice and chugged his energy drink. Ink slid his back up the wall and grabbed his pistol.

They come this way and they are going to get a mucho suprize!

"Who wants to know, ese?" *klik-klik*