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

[Konsaki]

00:04:18 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Ruined building off of 124th Pl. NE
Doc + Thumper

Nodding, Doc shouldered his duffle bag over his back as he moved up towards the front wall. Pulling out his piece from it’s holster, the troll scanned the street that he could see through the windows, looking for movement or heat. The view was pretty clear due to the windows lacking the cloudy, grungy, aged glass, so he had no problem seeing nothing out of the ordinary outside from his vantage point.
What he didn’t see, though, was the same cringing on Thumper’s face as his own when the sound of cracking and tinkling glass shattered the silence of the moment. Both sparing a glance down at the huge black boots the troll wore, they saw what one of his size nineteen’s had found; one of the few big shards of glass that peppered the floor of the restaurant.

It seemed the two inside weren’t the only ones to hear it either, as Thumper’s adept hearing heard a scuttle of movement outside to the north, opposite of Doc’s view to the south. He barely had time to register that he could only hear the scuffling of a person’s boots on the ground as he/she/it tried to keep quiet while increasing their movement.
Taking as a now or never moment, he twisted and pushed on the door, peering into the northern gloom of the night outside. Seeing some movement, he stuck his head out just enough to see a small flash of purple cloth enter the next store to the north. Straining his ears, he could swear that someone was whispering something, but couldn’t make out anything else…

[Konsaki]

00:11:52 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Alleyway south of 132nd St.
Fool

Being on full alert and not playing a chip in the background of his mind was probably the smartest thing he could do at this moment, he thought. This left him fully aware of the bodies; some alive, some dead; most either drugged or chipped in the alleyways he passed through. Not to say there were a lot, but he passed them by almost every other alley, the people either leaned against the wall or curled into an alcove when they could find one.
These were the poor souls who couldn’t or didn’t have the gumption to find a building to squat in for the night. Fool could only guess that they had a good chance of being ghoul food, but it left him with the thought that he himself was on his own right now too. Just that thought alone was enough to make him look around each corner as he went, checking for people out to get him.

As he approached the 132nd Fool practically dived into a connecting alley which led east, farther from the 120th. Looking around the corner, tentatively, the blue cybereyes clearly saw a couple of Demons leaning against the entrance to the alley from the 132nd. Behind them a vehicle, a motorcycle maybe, burned in the street, silhouetting the men’s forms and seemed to hold their attention.
Continuing to watch from his hidden point, he noticed a third ganger enter the alleyway with a box. The woman with the box set it on the ground and opened it as one of the men raised his shirt up to his ribs. Fool had seen enough action chips to know that she was checking a wound of some sort and thought best to move on while they were occupied.

Just as he started moving down the east running alleyways, around three buildings south of the 132nd, he kept just as alert. He knew he was lucky to see them and change directions before they noticed. Wondering how long his luck would hold up, he continued until he noticed a his commlink chiming with an incoming message.

[Unarmed]

00:04:32 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Ruined building off of 124th Pl. NE
Doc

Doc's entire body cringed as his foot came down squarely on a broken piece of glass. He cursed under his breath. If there was anyone out there, they'd heard it for sure.

I'm not cut out for this sneaking around shit. Give me a guy right in front of me with a gun any day.

Doc saw Thumper stick his head out the door urgently. Doc didn't have any lines of sight heading north, and all he could see south was empty road, burned out vehicles, and broken storefronts.

"What the fuck's out there?" He hissed under his breath at his newfound compatriot.

[Abbandon]

00:12:11 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Alleyway south of 132nd St.
Fool

Fool looked down at his comm and answered the call from Child. *laughter* You know its going to take more than a gang war to put me in the ground *nervous laughter*. I'm glad to see you are still alive, did you see what happened to the garage? Its been destroyed, completely gutted by firebombs and it looks like it caught almost everyone in it. I mean i couldn't recognize most of the bodies by the time I showed up. Do you know anything about it?

Hey listen you can probably see my location, do you still have your bike and if so can you pick me up? I was thinking I would hole up somewhere near the Hammerpack, Raider line and see whats going on. Our guys were helping them right? Maybe they will take us in or something?

As Fool finished with his own questions to Child he looked ahead a little bit and saw a body that had been pretty hacked up. As he zoomed in what he had taken for cuts and gashs were more like tears and rips, pieces of the body were only connected by skin and clothing. As he flipped through his different vision enhancements he also spotted a very wide or maybe multiple bloody trails leading off to the east in the direction he was trying to go. More corpes or people had been dragged off.

Uhh hey man if you do come for me you should probably know I have some Steel Demons and something in my area so it will probably be dangerous at the least. But just think of it as an adventure like that simflick I was telling you about the other day when you were working on that one guys bike.

Fool couldnt stop scanning the roofs, the entrances to the alley, even the sky. He knew there was bad things around him but he just couldnt see them. It was just creepy. Looking around he tried to take cover in the darkest nook he could find while he waited for a reply from his friend.

[WinterRat1]

00:06:26 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Just north of intersection of 128th and Vineyard
Bockscar

The kid nods his head in response to Bockscar's question and answers excitedly. "Yeah, I'm about to send a message out to Badmarsh and Legion, I just saw them go active and,"

*CRACK*

The sharp report of a rifle, probably some kind of hunting rifle or carbine in Bockscar's opinion, rings out and punches through the kid's head and shatters the commlink he was holding up to show Bockscar. The destroyed commlink falls to the ground and breaks into even smaller pieces. The kid's head jerks in mid-sentence. He stares at the soldier with cold, dead eyes. Then his body tilts and falls to the ground.

Good news: The shot came from Raider Nation's side of the car. The kid got a little too high and talked a little too loudly, making himself a target.

Bad news: They've got a rifle and Bockscar can't see them.

Question: Do they know he's still here or do they think they got them all?

What now?

[grendel]

00:12:33 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – intersection of NE 141st Way and NE 124th Place, Kingsgate, Seattle, UCAS
Legion

A wry chuckle forced its way past his dry, cracked lips. Even amidst the putrid miasma filling the streets of Kingsgate, he could recognize the stench of his enforcer. Legion tapped out another cigarette from his scavenged pack, noting with some despair that only three remained, before lighting up again. Abandoning the support of the streetlight, he limped across the sidewalk to the garishly painted wall of Plastic Sushi. Putting his back to the wall, he glanced up and down the street. Pitching his voice just loud enough to be heard inside, he rapped the blade of his katana against the window sill.

"Yo, Grack! Stuff the last of that spicy tuna roll in your nasty pie hole and get your hoop out here!"

[rob]

00:06:26 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Just north of intersection of 128th and Vineyard
Bockscar

Son of a b***h. Stupid a** mother f****r. Dumbs**t chingasa puta cabron. F*****g Raiders got me dialed in. Dead mother f****r gave my position away. Gotta move.

Kid dies while I'm splinting his leg. F****r. Drop down behind the car, low as low can go. No movement down the street, huff and puff as my vision focuses in something like panic on the picture in picture from Alfy. Huff and puff with the pain the adrenaline spike sends through my breathing. Sit there for what feels like a month, not moving a muscle, trying to figure out where the hell they are.

Move. Do something. Snake a hand under the car, fast, grab the dud 'nade and shove it under the kid, face up so he's resting on the contact fuze. Doesn't matter much, since it hasn't fired. Reach into my pocket and dump Leon's extra shotgun shells under the body, next to the grenade. Leave the f****rs a surprise. Drop a quick command to the wireless link on the grenade under the kid - drop comms and detonate if anything pulls it off the fuze.

Go time. Grab the pneumatic syringe of 'Kazi sitting on the ground. Slam it into the crook of my elbow, on the gunshot side, let the hiss and stab of the dose tell me it's working. Dump it in my pocket.

Road's 10 meters wide. I'm on the right, 40 or so meters up from the intersection. Grab Alfy and clip the sling to my good side epaulette. Lever myself up, leaning against the car. Huff, puff, and run like a paper dog chasing an asbestos cat through hell; straight for the near left side of the road, across the whole mother f****r, towards Hammerpack central, right as I feel the punch of the 'Kazi through my system.

"I'm up, he sees me, I'm DOWN!" as I tuck into the corner and try to get out of the line of sight.

[adamu]

00:13:00 Saturday November 1, 2070 - Plastic Sushi
Grack

Grack had enjoyed the brief walk to Plastic Sushi immensely, Tusk Master's melodious screams of agony providing the perfect backdrop to the glow of fires in the distance. The title track, "Kill with Pride," enhanced his fond reminisences of his scuffle with the Ultraviolet Nights just a short while ago.

Arriving at the automated restaurant and finding it devoid of patrons, he had fed some cash into the dispensers and received two Plastic Moriawases - the one with the picture showing the most food - which he had set to with the same gusto as any growing boy.

Partway through his repast, however, he caught some sort of motion out of the corner of his eye. Sensing no enemies nearby, he slowly turned to look. There, outside the window, was Legion tapping on the window. Vut. Just come in, he thought. But with Legion everything was always the hard way, always go go go. It looked as though he might be saying something, but whatever it was, it couldn't be more important than listening to Tusk Master. Still, his body language made it clear he was summoning young Grack, and so our protagonist collected his new toy in his right hand and his plate in his left and exited the building. His heavy black leather jacket was in remarkably good condition, but his bare torso beneath was caked and sticky with far more blood than anyone could lose and still be on their feet. Likewise, his olive-drab cargo trousers were black with the the stuff.

Stepping out, Grack was mildly surprised to see Legion alone. Where could all of his other friends be? Didn't they, too, wish to participate in the victory celebration?

It was clear the human was still speaking, but it was simply too much to bear to turn down the volume just at the awe-inspiring crescendo of "Eternal Wejoto." Nonetheless, ever the picture of decorum, Grack proffered his plate of sushi scraps to the young man from whom he'd taken his marching orders for the past five years.

[Mister Juan]

00:00:00 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Roaming up 132rd Ave. in Splintered Crash turf
Felix

Felix had never been one to talk very much in the first place. Not that he never had anything to say, on the contrary. He kept his mouth shut because he didn't want to bother anyone. He was usually more than happy to simply sit back, enjoy the moment and laugh and giggle his way through the days. Tonight, and especially tonight, the young wizkid even more silent. A big fat lump had clogged his throat and dried his mouth. A knot like he had never felt had wrapped his insides all around. Every minute, he felt like dropping on his knees and hurling in the street. Odds were, he had very little left to hurl anyways. He couldn't quite remember when it was the last time he had eaten.

Limping along the sidewalk, he peered out from under his hoodie and toward his friend. Shade had also been pretty quiet. He walked alongside him, pushing Felix in the shadows whenever something came by. He was glad to have him by his side... but he felt like such a burden. Already weak from just being himself, Felix had busted his ankle pretty good when Toy and Shade had thrown his ass down from the second floor. They could have both used their bikes instead of walking... but Shade had said it would be safer to scout ahead on foot. Even if Felix hadn't complained one time about his ankle, his limp was obvious and everytime he stepped on it, he winced under his hood. Odds were, Shade knew he was too weak to ride, and wanted to spare him more hurt.

Shade, what did I ever do to deserve a brother like you...

As they neared 134th, Shade motioned him into the decrepit shell of a burnt out building. The place had probably been a lovely store of some sort. Now it catered to squatters and junkies. Here and there, a few bums at then end of their rolls were hunkered around a little fire. The whole place stank of urine, smoke and other body odors. The occupants of the place threw nervous looks toward the two gangers as they came in, debating whether or not to make themselves scarce. Felix knew most of the homeless and squatters on their turf... and wasn't worried. It was probably his presence that calmed them down, for they all breathed a sigh of relief when he gave them a slight bow of the head.

"Let's take five minutes." said Shade, his practiced eyes scanning the street outside.

Felix smiled in a tired way behind his brbreathingask. He had worn in none stop since the 162s had hot them, and he could feel its straps starting to almost cut into his pale skin. Letting himself slide against the wall and unto the floor, the young mentalist pushed his hood off his head, brushing away his worries by running a quick hand into his short hair. With a wince of pain, he pulled his leg toward himself to check on his ankle. It was sprained good, but from the feel of it, he hadn't broken anything... he would have known by now.

"How is it?" said Shade in a calm and low voice, his eyes not leaving the street.

Felix looked up toward him, a faint smile reflected in his eyes.

"Oh it's fine... could have been a lot worse..."

A few seconds of silence rolled by as they both looked for something else to say. The wizkid reached and pulled his pants' leg back over his injured ankle.

Felix's head rolled back as the past days started to catch up with him. He was tired, Dead Tired. All he wanted to do was to find a dry and quiet spot, warm to if it could be, curl up into a ball and sleep it off. He still couldn't quite come to grip with what had happened. Why them? They were small time. Amateurs. Nobodies. Even the Lost Boys were more of a menace then the Crash. But things are the way they are. You just roll with it and shut up. Or at least, that was how Felix saw things.

Painfully pushing himself off the dirty floor, Felix grunted in pain. InstantaneouslyShade was by his side, concern on his face as he grabbed the mage under his armpit and lifted him onto his feet.

"Thank you" said Felix in a shy voice, his eyes going to the tip of his shoes.

"Listen Felix, you can rest. I'll go out and check things out."

Taking his hood by the tips of his fragile fingers, Felix pulled it up and unto his head.

"Null presp. I'll be alright." he said with what he hopped was a confident sounding voice.

Shade simply looked at him with his head cocked to the side... which only made Felix even more uncomfortable. He felt like a terrible burden.

"Let's get going. Halomust be worried..."

Shifting the weight of his backpack his shoulders, Felix pushed himself back into the dark street. Around him, clouding the night's sky, he could clearly see black clouds of smoke both close and far, testaments of the burning war that had raged everywhere around them... until it had come knocking on their front door. Both friends walked about another block before the eerie silence that surrounded them was broken.

"About Toy... I'm..." started Felix in a timid and shaky voice "I'm really sorry. I'm sure she's in a much better place..."

Felix had no idea what to say or how to say it. He simply felt like he needed to say something. Shade didn't reply anything. His attention simply seemed to drift out for a brief moment.

It was only when Shade began to slow his place down that the young wizkid his eyes from the pavement and toward the street ahead of them. Through his yellow tinted shades, which greatly amplified the ambient light, he could easily discern the wreck a few meters away. Just like his friend, all his senses were now in alert. Smoke was still rising from the torn bike, and through his brbreathingask, the sweet smell of gasoline still hung in the air.

The events were still fresh. Felix could feel it in his bones. He could feel the lingering emotions in the world around him. They all swirled around him in a colorfull package he had grown accustomed to decode. Pain. Fear. Anger. Guilt. Despair. Kingsgate always oozed of this soup, not matter where you went. Misery and violence had tainted the very fabric of the world. But this was different. It was fresh and sharp.

As they neared the wreck, Felix felt a growing sense of apprehension. He felt his feet get heavier with each step, as if trying to prevent him from getting any closer. He felt Shade stiffen up next to him. A few steps ahead, the torn body of a biker lay half on the sidewalk. It was far from being the first bloodied and gored out body Felix had seen, and odds were it wouldn't be the last. It still gave him chills.

He was about to turn his eyes away, when his felt his hearth stop. No more beating. All blood washed away from his face. He was emptied out in the blink of an eye. For a moment, Felix was no more. He wasn't alive anymore, yet he wasn't dead. He simply wasn't.

Halo.
No.
God.

And then his body was moving on his own, his knees scrapping themselves hard against the concrete as he dropped next to the body.

"Oh God! Oh no! nononononono please no Oh God. Please Halo. Please"

Tears were running down his cheeks. He could barely see. Sobbing and shaking all over, Felix frantically ripped his backpack off his back and spilled it's content on the street. Undoing the straps of the biomonitor he kept around his wrist, he slipped it on Haloand shifted his gaze in a way that was second nature to him.

"Please Halo. Don't do this to me. Please. Oh God...."

[pragma]

00:04:34 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Ruined building off of 124th Pl. NE
Thumper

"Someone's flying UV colors ..." Thumper said as he looked around for an intact piece of furniture to block the door.

"We got a back door?"

[Unarmed]

00:04:55 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Ruined building off of 124th Pl. NE
Doc

"Is he a spellchucker? Because I say if he's mundane we just frag him."

Doc glanced around the room, looking anxious to run headlong out the front door after the UV bastard.

"There was another room behind the one I woke up in that probably leads out the back. A chair was blocking the door to that room."

Doc was getting nervous. He was worried about the guy summoning up some spirits and just toasting them where they stood. He started to feel the kamikaze itch starting up. He wanted to just end this sooner rather than later, but he didn't know if his companion was as nervous as he was.

"You know what? Fuck it. If the guy is a spellslinger then can't he just summon up spirits or some shit that can find us in here? One could be watching as we speak. I think we either have to take him down or we have to fraggin' run. Fast. If you want to take him out, how about I go in the front door and make a scene and you come around back and take him down?"

[HeySparky]

00:13:24 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Headed South down 126th Ave NE from the intersection of 126th and 144th St
Badmarsh

Badmarsh shushes the woman's rant and takes Legion's call, eyeing her up and down while he listens.

: call connected -> Legion:
<You got it, Sarkar. I'm on my way. How many are left? I got nothing but you on my comm.> The young pimp's voice is bleak. He signs off while he waits for Legion's reply.

After the call he takes the new girl's chin in his hand, "Aww, chickadee... did I upset you?" His voice is soft, and calm, the red blaze in his eyes a banked soft glow. His hand tightens abruptly, painfully, gripping the dark-eyed woman's jaw, his face, a twisted snarl, "Shut. The. Fuck. Up." The red eyes blaze and his voice echoes strangely. Each syllable is emphasized by a shake. Nevada's nosrils flare as their eyes lock a fleeting look of panic in hers when her mouth works but she cannot speak. He barks a laugh and shoves her away by the face. The shove puts him off balance and he sways on his feet. He shakes his head to clear it before looking up and down the road one last time.

"All clear. We're headed south and west. Not home. Hope one you stupid bitches didn't leave a hot plate on."

Dahlia gasps, worried now that she did just such a thing. She begins to weep quietly, biting her lips to muffle her sobs. Nyna shakes her head at Dahlia. She checked. Of course, she checked. Dahlia swallows and nods. The weeping subsides.

He slings the shotgun onto his shoulder and pulls a pistol, checking the clip before waving Nevada and the girls ahead. He grabs Frankie's arm as she goes by. "Never. NEVER do this again." She tries to pull free of his grasp and he hangs on for a moment and lets her go.

They move south.

[Konsaki]

00:01:42 Saturday, November 1, 2070 - Brickhouse Boys HQ
Johnny Soho

Easing the door open as silently as he could, the tusker could still hear the old hinges grinding against each other as the door swung inward. Just as the door opened just enough for Johnny to sneak through, he stepped into the large room and behind a singed shelving unit. The sounds coming from farther in the room showed no change, like the brit’s entrance wasn’t noticed.
Peeking from around the burned furniture, he saw a woman picking and choosing through the items she had found in the room. His retro style of dress and manner seemed repulsed by the pure hodgepodge of mismatched cloths and gear she wore. From the boot and sandal on her feet, the discord of attire continued to the long rainbow striped thigh high socks that seemed to have been tie-dyed in sewage of some sort.
This led up to her cutoff shorts which seemed like they could have been pants to a blue pinstriped business suit at one point and farther up it contorted into an even weirder combo of a white shirt with ‘Love and Piece!’ in blood dripped red, which was then covered by a camo green armored vest which had large and cute looking Devil and Angel chibi patches on the back.
Her long grey hair was tied back in a ponytail that went down half her back, but the color belayed her apparent age of what Johnny could only guess at late twenties, still pretty young for a human. Still, her hat brought back a couple of memories of home as he saw the large comical looking multicolored top hat that he remembered people wearing to parties for kicks, but it seemed to work with the rest of her… look.

As she worked through the small pile she had gathered, appraising each item one by one, she seemed to be humming some obscure sounding tune which the Englishman couldn’t place. Every once in a while, she would stop humming and start mumbling to herself incoherently.

[grendel]

00:14:19 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Plastic Sushi and the intersection of NE 141st Way and NE 124th Place, Kingsgate, Seattle, UCAS
Legion

Legion grimaces, his own hearing mildly offended by the industrial noise pouring from Grack's headphones. He gestures impatiently with his right hand, smoke rising lazily from the cigarette held between thumb and forefinger. Pointing with two fingers to his eyes, then across the street at the building where movement drew his attention earlier, then to Grack and back to the building. He said only one word, enunciating very clearly so his enforcer would understand despite the raging Troll metal pounding in his ears.

"Sanitize."

He waited to make sure that Grack understood his orders while he spoke to Badmarsh.

: call connected -> Badmarsh :
"I've just picked up Grack, but that's all I have. Lessard, Mongol, and No Dice are all dead. No word yet on Ghost or any of his squad."

[Cedric Rolfsson]

00:00:30 Saturday November 1, 2070- 124th Street NE

The night was filled with the scents of destruction. The air carried its normal miasma of chemicals and refuse, but now it was spiced with fear and desperation. Most of that had to be coming from him.

Jaya looked up at the sound of voices, loud meta-human voices, like the ones he'd listened to as Bender burned. They'd be after him next, he was right on the edge of Plague turf still, and even though the Corsairs were dead, they'd probably still be holding a grudge for awhile.

He looked around for a place to hide, his shoulder kept sending him painful reminders that he was in no condition for another fight, and noticed an open doorway across the street.

Good enough. He thought to himself and bolted for the dark opening.

[pragma]

00:05:02 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Ruined building off of 124th Pl. NE
Thumper

"How the fuck do I know if he's a spell slinger."

Thumper curled the knuckle of his left hand under his finger and popped it. He liked fights, he didn't like magic. This was a tough call.

"These guys just thrashed the both of us. I say we go out the back and stomp anyone we see. Its a compromise and shit."

He stood and moved toward the back room.

"I'm calling my boys, if you're hell bent on making some fucking noise in front I'll go around the back and start swinging. But I'd rather run than take my chances with the flaming fireball friends."

<<Thumper@Legion,Ghost:: I'm holed up on 124th Pl. NE. I've got UV presence and a big 8-baller backing me up. Advise.>>

[Lindt]

00:12:13 Saturday, November 1, 2070- Corner of N124th and N132nd
Child
Child suppressed a whoop of delight in the knowledge that Fool was alive yet.
I have A bike, but its not mine, and I don't think you want me picking you up with it. Its a Hellhounds job, and with the SD right there, bad idea. I'm gonna find somewhere to hide for a few, but Ill keep an eye down 132 for you. Beyond that, ditch your colors and we'll talk when you get here. I don't know who's repeater we are on.

He left the channel open,silently hoping that Fool would gripe about it, giving him the opportunity to agree after the second asking, and giving him someone to shift the blame onto when it turned out to be a monumentally bad situation in the making.
Child had a odd thought that had worked once before, and flipped his account of Miracle Shooter into his active AR. I know I'm not the only banger in Redmond that plays, lets hope they are far away. While the MMOARC program struggled to find a viable connection, Child rolled the Hellhounds bike off the street hoping to find some place to keep his head down for a few minutes.

[adamu]

00:14:24 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Plastic Sushi and the intersection of NE 141st Way and NE 124th Place, Kingsgate, Seattle, UCAS

Grack

A wholesome grin spread across Grack's handsome features upon receiving Legion's instructions.
All other concerns were forgotten at the prospect of honorable combat nobly conducted.
The polystyrene plate of sushi hit the ground at his feet, bits of aquacultured soyrice and krill-toona scattering on the dirty asphalt. Adjusting his grip on his new toy, he set off across the street at a low lope, sticking to shadows and cover, moving with remarkable silence for one of his formidable size. As he ran, he shut down his music, the better to find his quarry. Of course he knew that his amazing new Powers would sense any foes, but old hunting habits died hard.

[Unarmed]

00:05:12 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Ruined building off of 124th Pl. NE
Doc

"I don't know, you saw the fucker. Sometimes they're holding all sorts of shruken heads and shit, you know?"

Doc was getting anxious. They had enough muscle between them to take down at least 5 humans, but the though of getting toasted by a fireball was not looking at all appealing. Whatever they ended up doing, Doc wanted to hurry up and do it. He followed Thumper towards the back of the restaurant.

"Alright, we'll both head out the back. I have no desire to get toasted tonight. Not after what I've been through the past couple nights. If we have a good chance to stomp the guy, let's do it. But if we can walk away clean I guess we fraggin' should."

[grendel]

00:14:51 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Plastic Sushi and the intersection of NE 141st Way and NE 124th Place, Kingsgate, Seattle, UCAS
Legion

Backing Grack from his own position of cover, Legion is surprised to see Thumper's text come through. Then again, wireless service in the area was spotty to begin with and that was before the war wrecked half the transmission points in the area. Glancing around the area again, he fired off a quick reply.

<<Legion@Thumper:: @ Plastic Sushi with Grack. Grab what you can and meet us here. Bring the 8-Baller.>>

[Konsaki]

00:05:58 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Ruined building off of 124th Pl. NE
Doc + Thumper

Looking up at the huge meta-human, at least larger than himself, Thumper nodded in agreement. Messing around with mages wasn’t high on his list of fun things to do, especially with what happened not too long ago with him being sent flying. “Fuck it! Let’s head out the back and get the hell out of here!�, he said as he continued through the doors leading from the dining room to the kitchen.
Doc shrugged as he followed the Hammerpack warrior towards the back door. He couldn’t see the major reason the smaller ork had changed his mind, but it was important enough to sway it. In Thumper’s AR vision, he saw a floating window; the response to the message he sent out to his leader which read, “Connection Lost. Message delayed.�

The pair moved pretty silently through the bare kitchen area. The rubble underfoot, mostly rocks and rotted wood stuffs, was much quieter than shards off glass when trodden on. Still, as Thumper approached the door which had once served as a service entrance in better times, he signaled Doc to halt his advance.
Something didn’t feel right and given the situation the scowling ork trusted his gut and his ears. Putting one of them up to the metal door, he listened to what might be on the other side. If there was anything though, nothing came through and after a bit he snorted in disgust as he knew he was basically walking out into the alley blind.
With a final nod and the flexing of his right hand into a tight fist, he quietly but swiftly swung the door open and dashed across the opening to the first spot of cover he could find, a metal barrel on the other side of the alleyway. From there, he could see pretty much the entire alley, up to a point where it turned on either direction.
Nothing… Other than trash, rubble and other normal barrens alleyway crap, there was nothing. Letting out his breath in a long sigh, he silently motioned back to Doc who was still standing in the doorway with pistol drawn. Nodding, the giant moved out into the oddly wider than normal alleyway, posture more relaxed than it was a second ago but not completely.

With a quick jerk of the head, the tusker pair both turned and started heading south, away from the building containing the purple clad person. They only made it a few meters before a crash and a thud behind them caused Thumper to jump behind a large metal box, his wires jolting him to superhuman heights of reaction, while the larger Doc could only turn quickly while backing against the wall, pointing his gun in the direction of the sound.
What they saw though set them back a few beats as the sight made little sense to them at first. There, back at that same building they were weary about before, lay a person face down on what once was the door to the back of that building. It lay there motionless, Doc’s sights still trained on it, for more than a few seconds before breaking a few snerks and chuckles under its breath.
It wasn’t long after though that another body came flying through the broken doorway, landing right on top of the first. The ork and troll team could only glance at each other in confusion as Doc slowly made his way to a more defendable position behind a dumpster farther back.

By the time he actually made it there, the alleyway was filled with laughter, true laughter of mirth and hilarity coming from the pair of bodies lying on the door. Doc had his suspicions, which were confirmed when a third man in a purple trenchcoat made his way out the door, that these idiots were really fucked up. ‘Probably Bliss by the way they are laughing at each other’, the drug worker thought.
It was readily apparent to Thumper too as soon as the human in the doorway finally notice the trogs down the alleyway and smiled a wide goofy smile before exclaiming, “Oiiiiii, Chuuummersss! You found yourselves some wizzz threads too! Wizzzz…Heh! Wizzz…� He seemed stunned, in his drugged out state, by the words he himself was saying, but finally continued, “Yo… We found these things on some chummers on the street. They didn’t need them anymore… They’s was sleeping really deep.�, he answered to a question no one had asked, but it did explain enough to the ork who had risen from his crouch.


Looking back at the troll who had also stood to his full towering height, he said in a lowered voice, “One fragger in VN colors is as good as another…� Seeing him move up towards the stumbling blessed out human, Doc needed no further explanation on what was coming up next. Though he knew what was coming, the human didn’t as Thumper put his name to good use by rearing back and slugging the man in the face with all his might.
The following minutes were filled with laugher, which turned to cries of pain and laugher, followed by just cries of pain that faded into silence as each of the fools stupid enough to dress in gang cloths during a war were thrashed into unconsciousness.


00:14:51 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Alleyway behind a ruined building off of 124th Pl. NE
Doc + Thumper

Standing above the broken and twitching bodies, the gangers could only grin at the sight. Even if they weren’t real UVN goons, they sure looked like they could be and the night’s frustrations were happily taken out on them.
Thumper couldn’t help but snort in exasperation though when the window which had previously displayed a lack of connection then flashed, notifying the ork that his message had just been sent. It wasn’t long though before a reply was received from Legion; much needed orders to regroup.

[WinterRat1]

00:20:00 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Roaming up 132rd Ave. in Splintered Crash turf
Last Survivors of the Splintered Crash

Shade's breath caught in his throat as he watched Felix frantically working on the unconscious Halo. He longed to be able to do something, anything, to help his friends out. He'd always trained himself to know his limits though, to know when to push beyond them and when to stay within them. When it came to first aid and healing people, it was definitely time for the latter.

The minutes ticked by as the young mage frantically applied rudimentary first aid to the blond biker. Watching in rapt fascination, and praying hard in his mind, Shade almost didn't hear the scuffling footsteps some distance behind him. An icy fear gripped him inside as he whirled around.

Cursing furiously at himself for not paying closer attention to their surroundings, spurs popped out, wired reflexes kicked his view of the world around him into high gear. They were on the border of the old Splintered Crash-162 turf for God's sake!

Bracing himself for anything from a squatter looking for a handout to an entire pack of ghouls ready to turn them into a midnight snack, the last thing he expected to see was a full-fledged ghost standing only about five meters away.

"Holy drek! Aziz!?!?!?"

The Arabian samurai grinned back at Shade. "The only and fragging only. Getting sloppy Shade? If I was the 162s, you'd have been a pretty easy midnight snack right now."

Shade didn't respond, simply looking down meaningfully at the five meter distance between them. They both knew that was still plenty of room, and more importantly, time for someone with Shade's reflexes to ginsu someone into bite-sized pieces, surprise or no.

Limping towards his friend, Aziz couldn't resist one last dig. "Hell, if I'd wanted you dead, I'd have just shot ya. Them spurs wouldn't do you much good if I was down the block, would they?"

Shade didn't have an answer for that, nor did he try. Instead, his jaw dropped as he considered the pathetic state of his friend. "Oh my god! Aziz, are you ok?"

He rushed over to help his friend as he came into the light, revealing the full extent of his wounds. Battered and bleeding almost beyond recognition, it was obvious that Aziz's miraculous escape from the 162's assault had come at a heavy price.

Shrugging off the Asian ganger's worry with his usual machismo, Aziz shrugged, then winced and readjusted himself as pain racked his body. "Ain't no thing Shade. Gonna take more than a pack of damn ghouls to bring me down. You shoulda known; they're good, but not as good as I am."

Hobbling over towards Felix, who hadn't even looked up at his arrival, Aziz gave the mage a little nudge. "Wassa matter little buddy? Can't even spare a 'wow, I'm glad you're alive' for your old pal Aziz?"

Before Felix could answer, Aziz looked down and noticed what, or more precisely who had such an iron grip on his friend's attention. "Oh shit...what the fuck happened to Halo? Who the fuck did this to her Shade?"

The Arabian whirled angrily, Kalila practically ready to jump out of its sheath, when the exertion caused him to groan in pain and sink to a knee, holding his side. Turning to his friend, Felix gasped aloud at his friend's condition. "Aziz! When did you get here?! Oh my god, Shade, Aziz is alive!"

Quickly looking him over, Felix said admiringly, "You need medical attention, bad. I'm amazed you made it this far on your own!"

"Heh, you know me kid. Tough as nails, eh?" Aziz grinned cockily at him, albeit painfully. Not that he'd ever admit that, of course. "How's Halo kid, she gonna be ok?"

Obviously Aziz hadn't fully managed to observe their female friend, or he would have already known the answer to that question. Looking at the love of his life, bleeding to death on the cold, hard ground, Felix answered, "It's bad. Really bad. I managed to stabilize her, but..." his voice quivers and the other two see tears streaming down his cheeks as he looks up at them. "But I can't do anything else for her! She can't stay like this, or she'll die! What are we gonna do guys?"

Quietly Shade said, "We need to get Aziz and Halo to a doctor, now. No way is any medkit going to fix that much damage. Either of you two know any clinics around here worth the name?"

[WinterRat1]

00:16:14 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Just north of intersection of 128th and Vineyard
Bockscar

Laying quietly and very still as the minutes ticked by, Bockscar carefully went about his preparations, trying to ready himself to make a break for it. He wasn't sure if the 'grenade-under-the-body' trick would work, but he left a few shotgun shells underneath the body just in case. If he could pull it off, it'd give those Raider Nation fraggers a nice, nasty little surprise.

Shooting himself up with a little Kamikaze just for that something extra which he needed, Bockscar rationalized to himself, he then carefully clipped his assault rifle to his jacket and set his feet, ready to take off running.

Finally, sure he'd done everything he could do, and ready to abandon a rapidly disintegrating position, he took a few deep breaths to steady himself, then took off like he was wearing sausage underwear in a pack of wolves.

Trying to maintain good form for maximum speed and moving in a zig-zag pattern, he heard a yell of surprise, then the crack of a rifle shot that ricocheted off the cement near his feet. He ignored it and kept sprinting, not stopping until he collapsed in a heap behind a dumpster in an alley, gasping for air to feed his burning lungs.

A minute or so after he was clear, off in the distance behind him he heard an explosion. He didn't know if he'd actually gotten anyone, but he allowed himself a small smile nonetheless. After all, sometimes it was the little things in life.

[adamu]

00:15:30 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Alleyway behind a ruined building off of 124th Pl. NE
Grack

Once he'd crossed the street, young Grack had hidden himself deep in the shadows and moved soundlessly down the alley to the rear of the target building. His ears rang in the aftermath of Broken Tusk's anthem, and there was little chance of the silence being broken.
It seems the lad had a somewhat naughty habit of deactivating his commlink whenever he received a termination order from Master Legion - the disappointment when such orders were rescinded was just too heart-rending to contemplate.

For several long minutes he had eased himself along through the muck and garbage that lined the wide passage. Ahead, he could easily sense sound and movement. With patience, he would be the first to strike.

Cleverly concealed within a deep pile of offal apparently dumped from a nearby apartment block, he listened as two pairs of heavy footsteps approached. With almost unbearable anticipation, he let them pass - only to see that the ork in the lead was his cerri Thumper, red Hammerpack sash hanging proudly from his hip. Behind him came the physical and intellectual giant from the 8-Balls affectionately called Doc. No wonder his Power had sensed no foes.

Once they were past him, he arose from his hide and called out quietly, "Skraaa, Thumper. What business with this 8-Ball pig?"

[pragma]

00:15:40 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Ruined building off of 124th Pl. NE
Thumper

"Skraa - fucking -cha!" Thumper said as he wound up for a monumental handshake/high five.

Grack hissed a warning for silence and Thumper toned down his voice.

"Big guy and I have been tearing up this damn town. Where the fuck you been at." He grinned wildly. He held up a scrap of purple cloth, "We got some UV threads to prove it. He's alright."

Thumper looked at the ground and then back up, with the same grin. "When I saw the UV fuckers with bite marks that you weren't still stuck to, I thought you were a fucking goner."