Viva La Revolucion: the New Revolutionaries, IC: Full of Anarchy Options

[Zombayz]

It started as a punk concert and quickly evolved into a riot of epic proportions. The Star couldn't do drek all as the hundreds of Barrens rioteers, metahumans, HMMVV infected, and even a few free spirits brought the riot into the suburbs. Molotovs were throw, black flags were waved.

And then Lone Star and Knight Errant started using freeze foam cannons, and arrested 89 of the rioters, as well as causing a few 'accidental deaths'. But the hundreds of rioters who got out, they remembered. They remembered the Anarchy, the freedom. People were actually equals for once. It didn't matter what part of society you were from, how many nuyen you had, or whether or not you were a corper. All that mattered is you were ALIVE.


Now it's time to take back the glorious feeling of equality. You might not be a corp sponsored military, or trained in any way shape or form, but frag it. You've got the skills you need. You've got the knowledge of what to do.

Here, in this lonely Barrens commune where you are gathered, the Revolution starts.

[Zombayz]

There's not a whole lot here outside or in, but then again, what else would you expect from a building this far down in the Pullyup. A brief glance around the room shows nothing but a bit of booze, food, and a table with a map spread over it. Not even a single fraggin chair. Who knew that revolutionaries were dirt poor?

Introduce yourselves(a riot doesn't leave much time for intoductions, eh?), give the others an idea of what you do

[Digital Heroin]

There was purity in a riot. It was human nature distilled down to base instincts. It strips away the logic, the fear, the overwhelming sense of social propriety and worth assed by class that the establishment has pounded into everyone's head from day one. Humans become reptiles. They rage, they fight, and they frag things up. A riot is primal, furious, and oh so bloody good fun.

Mr. Molotov, as the kids who'd been hanging around him ever since his release had taken to calling him, had been backstage for the show itself. Johnny Skunge and the Human Drek had taken the stage, and the crowd was in a right frenzy. He was laughing to himself, thinking about how many punk acts had guys named Johnny in them. It just went with the territory. Like guys Private Investigator's named Sam. Or strippers named Candy. It was all about name branding, marketing, and fitting in while bucking the system. You had to embrace conformity in order to appreciate anarchy. You had to embrace anarchy to truly live.

All of this ricochets through Molotov's mind before the Human Drek have broken into the first verse of the deliciously vulgar Your Mom.

Bright and early in the morning, before he could even crack open his first brew, he'd received a knock on his door. Well, no, he'd received a knock through his door. Two cops in riot gear had roused all the strung and hung over kids, and kicked them out of the living room. Only when they'd checked the adjacent rooms had the suit come on in. Some balding, pinch nosed little smear who's name Johnny's already forgotten when it finishes crossing his crackled lips. The suit goes on about how he's Johnny's P.O. and how Johnny forgot to check in with him when he got out, and how he had to track Johnny down at the cost of a lot of effort on his part of some drek. He tells Johnny he needs to straighten up and fly right or it's back to the slammer for him. Johnny does his best well-gosh Leave it to Beaver and slicks back his already electric blue hair, props his P.O. he'll do just that, that he'll become a good little sheeple, and maybe buy a fancy suit like his. He even asks who the guy's tailor is, like the beuro-prat even has a tailor. Like he's not just the same old waste of humanity as Johnny pretending he's something better. He'd said all this with his most sincerely honest to the Queen tone of voice and deferent bow of the head, and the suit had bought it.

Before they'd even cleared the hall Johnny'd made a call, and their car had gone missing.

Looking back it had made him laugh again, and the hang-arounds, these kids of the Anarchist Black Cross, sons and daughters of cacophony, they'd laughed along not even knowing what the deal was. Sometimes even an anarchist wants to fit in with an authority.

The Human Drek had done their deal, and someone had come up on the stage and called for everyone to shut the frag up and listen. Listen because there was a real hardcore deal in the house. Before the guy even said it Johnny was groaning. Yeah, he kind of liked having these Anarchist kids handing about, getting him things, and in general providing some decent people to party with. But he wasn't quite ready for the stage again just yet. Not that it mattered. Before he could tell one of the Anarchist kids to go snatch the mike and take a stage dive the words had been uttered. With this crowd all it took was on word to bring the roar back, and the chants for his name. Maybe one in every ten of them had been old enough to sneak out of their parent's house when he'd been arrested, but they'd heard from friends who knew a guy who'd been trying to get to the show he was brought down at. They all knew Redmond Burning. They didn't have to know his music to know him. He was something special to them.

It was too late to back down, so he'd stepped up.

What kind of man would he be if he hadn't?

No man at all.

He'd taken to the stage with a bottle in one hand, and a mic in the other, and a silence had fallen over them. Looking back he couldn't even remember what he'd said, just the feeling that had come with it. The empowerment. Forget the ride back into the Barrens. Forget the last two weeks. That moment had been his re-awakening.

When a voice from the back called out that the fuzz was on the way all eyes went to him. He'd taken a swig from the bottle, tossed it to the side, and called for a new one.

`Well it's a free show, lets go give 'em a welcome!`

They'd parted like the Red Sea, and had fallen in line behind him. Somewhere along the way he'd been handed a scrap of rag, and a lighter. Sure, it wasn't the best kind of incendiary out there. It wasn't even traditional. But when in doubt, make drek up.

By the time the first cruiser had screeched to a halt he was already in stride, adrenaline coursing through his veins. With a roar behind him, a frustrated mass of downtrodden souls screaming for an outlet for all their rage, he had stepped up onto the bumper of the cruiser, grabbed his crotch and pumped it in the direction of the cops inside, and raised the freshly lit bottle high.

It might not have been the first blow of the night, but his riot began with a Molotov smashed upon the windshield of that cruiser.

-----

How he'd ended up in Puyallup, a city away from where he'd began, was a blur.

He was still riding high on the fury of the moment. The smell of gasoline bit into his fingertips. He could still taste the CS gas, and it tasted glorious. Johnny Molotov's gangly six foot frame was in constant motion. He was pacing on the periphery of the gathering. Pacing, throwing random kung-fu moves, letting out the occasional whoop, and checking his liberty spikes to make sure they're all intact.

There had been some close calls there.

But he'd survived, and he hadn't been pinched. And now he was holed up in some doss he'd never seen before, separated from his entourage and full of manic energy. He knew this was only the beginning. He knew this was going to get crazy before it got wild. He felt alive like he hadn't in years.

`Alright lot, we gonna let the momentum die or what?` He approaches the table, hands splaying over the map. `I reckon some of you know me, but I'm not vein enough to presume. Name's Johnny Molotov, leastwise that's the name I care to use. We all cozy in the kitty and ready to burn this city?`

[Dumori]

Johnny Molotov? The Johnny Molotov? Your a legend to those kids what the frag did you do? Not heard any of your music. Just you name bounced around. Let the momentum die? Did you see what I did to that er... citymaster. Yeah I made it run right off the road! Well I guess I'm Unwyn. I'm new here um.. literally. Yeah that's the word. Not been ... free for er.. long time. This is all a bit new.. no no... um.. confusing. Any one want to .. help me er.. learn about this world?

[crazyconscript]

Well, that was one helluva riot back there. Before that, everything had seemed like it was just going to get worse. But now, there was purpose again. There was a new No idea what started it, but when sumthin like that starts happenin and about 50 bikers start racing past in a single group causing havoc, you just dont question it. You join in an' have some fun! Those cops didnt know what hit 'em. Nuthin quite like that feeling of tearing out of Redmond straight through bellevue and scaring the drek out of all those damned prissy upper-class, with 4 squad cars trying to tail you and about 5 other gangs who've never raced together before. Course, the highlight was using that makeshift ramp to jump that citymaster roadblock. Almost got caught there, and a lot of the guys did. Either that or they turned back (the pussies), but who cares? After the riot-cops started to outnumber the rioters still standing though, thats when its a good time to split and regroup. And now, it was time to continue the revolution! This should be fun

*a dwarf in black and red biker gear walks through the door, still with some freeze foam stuck to him, and tears off his helmet, revealing his fluorescent green hair and beard *

MAAAAN!!! That was FUN back there! Names Hank, but you guys can call me Krank. So, who are you chummers? Hey, i think i recognise you from somehwere, Johnny isnt it?

[crizh]

Tears streamed down his grime streaked face. For just a moment there he had felt alive, he had let his frustrations boil over and take control of him and he had felt alive, he had felt liberated, the pain of his sister's loss forgotten, the pain of his own guilt and anger eating at his guts gave way to a sense of joy as he let that same pain out to burn and destroy the world that had caused it.

He knew what to do now.

He would never stop looking for Gladys but he couldn't let the pain take over his entire life or he would never succeed.

Now he knew how to douse the pain. He would make this City burn.

He paced the room as these thoughts crowded his mind, his eyes flickering over everything, his subconscious searching his new surroundings and companions for anything useful. Escape routes, weapons, chemicals, abandoned propane tanks, the slow whup-whup-whup of drones searching for them, the approaching sirens that might spell the end of this enterprise, a couple of bags of soy-flour and a candle, anything.

Anything he could use to make this whole drek-damned world burn and help him escape to burn some more of it another day.

-----

He looked up at Johnny's words and grinned.

Fragging right I am but I want to do it right. I don't plan on goin' out in a hail of bullets any time soon.

Every one of us is hurtin' and we all know which frakkers are responsible. Let's take the pain back to it's source. Let's make those AAA mother-frakkers suffer and let's come back tomorrow and every day after that and do it again and again and again.

They only care about one thing. Money. Well let's see how much off it we have to wipe off their balance sheets for them to pack up and frak off.

Name's Flashbang. I did all the Pyro for the show tonight but that drek is small time compared to what I know how to do with a couple of bags of fertilizer and some fuel oil.

Big question right now is, are we safe here? Are the Star going to be knocking on our door with the big guns in twenty minutes looking for pay back or can we settle in here and start planning a war?

[Dumori]

If there are I'm out of here faster than you can blink. Hey can one of you frags pass me a beer?

[crazyconscript]

Flicking off some stray foam from his shoulder pad

Nah, havent got any booze on me right now chummer. But if the Star do decide to bust their way in here, we can show 'em whats comin their way. And right now i think thats exactly what we need to do anyway
So, right now they're probably resting on their laurels, happy with having stopped that last bit o' business. They probably wont be expecting anyone to still be up for a fight right now. So i think we should strike back now, get them on the back foot! I think we need to send them a message, we need to get on the offensive as soon as possible. No more letting them just trample over us on THEIR terms. While the spirit is still there we need to keep it alive. Going up against a full station house probably wont go very well right now, but we can work up to that. But me, i'd love to have a little bit of personal time with one or two of those cops responsible, show 'em that we wont be put down.

[Digital Heroin]

Nails practically digging into the table, wrinkling the map beneath them, Johnny's blood is molten technicolor and he's feeling alive. His striking green eyes flicker back and forth amongst his new compatriots, giving them each a moment's quick appraisal.

He spins from the table, and sits upon it, drumming his fingers upon the surface even as it groans under his not-so-considerable weight. To Unwin, he grins a pearly white grin.

`Me? I just lit a fire under their asses and opened their eyes. I was the to the flint to the fuse to the fuel, as the old song goes. The old Bellevue Punk Riot of '65, that was me and mine.`

The grin is twisted and feral, a parody of joy upon his face. There's pain there, hidden beneath the surface, but he's letting the manic rage fuel him for the moment.

To Krank, Flashbang, and to Unwin as well he gives a theatrical mock bow. As if he's got anything close to royal station; as if he's got class.

`You're right, I'm Johnny Molotov, and together I think we're gonna light this city up. Let the Star come. Let them batter down our doors and shake the windows. We've got an army at out fingertips, my friends. We're the Generals of the Revolution. And they can call me what they want, but today I'm Micheal. I'm the Angel of Death, I'm the motherfraggin' Grim Reaper baby, and it's the system that I'm knocking for.`

He's worked himself into a frenzy again, and he hops up from the table, his oldschool Doc Martens kicking debris around as he paces again.

`We need to strike a blow fast, though, strike one good. We need to send a message.`

[crizh]

If we are good here for a few hours I can whip something up that will make them sit up and take notice. I'll need to get out of here to pick up some supplies though.

[crazyconscript]

Krank nods in approval of Johnny's speech

A few hours would probably help us, since they will think that everything has cooled down. Then we can take 'em by surprise. Doesnt have to be too big though. I have my bike, if you guys could rig something up i could lure a car into a trap and then we can have some fun with them.

[Dumori]

I can "teliport", that's the word isn't it? So I could start off an timer and begone before it blows. Plus I have a few useful powers. I say we try and take a trophy from this. Sure would rock to have one of these citymasters. Unwyn looks quite smug with his little plan.
What do you mean no booze! That's something that we must fix NOW! We could grab the supplies form Flashbang while we are at it as well.

[Zombayz]

A look around shows Unwyn that there's some cheap soybrew in the corner: it may not be good, but it gets the job done. There's some food too.

The map shows a rough map of Seattle and the surrounding area: major buildings, malls, trid stations, and police and fire services are all marked out. A few other spots are marked out, including this building: you've got no idea what the rest are for.

Digital Herion:

[ Spoiler ]

Johnny's time looking at the old revolutionary tactics tells him that the corps would paint the guerillas as terrorists: getting some mobile broadcasting equipment would help get the message out while still providing a voice the crops couldn't deny. At the same time, the news of a raid on a trid station would spread like wildfire.

Crizh:

[ Spoiler ]

After a moment's thought, you're pretty sure you could brew up around 10 kilograms of ETN within a few hours without risk of something blowing up in your face. A few more minutes and you could easily assemble it into a few nice bombs.

If you were to make a bit less though, it wouldn't take as long.

[Dumori]

Unwyn grabs one of the cans of soybrew
Krank you lie! For I have beer right here. Not like it dose anything to me but I like to drink.
Taking a swig of soy brew
I think we need a place to lay low for after each raid we do a defensible pace in the sewers could work even more so if you take over an old store room with aims to expand it a bit. Really I don't know how well we can defend here. On a side note any one want to show me to some of the better view points around here and door ways so i can get to them ASAP if needed.

[crizh]

Flashbang worked the Betel methodically between his jaws as he paced up and down.

If you want to make a statement quickly I can knock something up in a few hours but it won't be epic. I'll need a few days for epic. I don't want to be causing unnecessary fatalities however. I can create something non-lethal for squishy folks and something a bit more deadly for vehicles and breaching walls and stuff.

I need to get tools and stuff, who's coming with me?

[Dumori]

I'll tag along. Whats the plan on the type of hit we'll be making? I think we need resources before we take on the big things.

[Deze]

Knocks on the door to the building, checks his watch after knocking.

Says to himself: I think I saw them running down here, I really gotta get in better shape for this.

Breathes heavily catching his breath

[Digital Heroin]

Walking back to the map, Johnny spends a pre-occupied moment looking it over before he reaches into the inner pocket of his leather jacket, pulling out his commlink. When he's handling the 'link, when he's bringing up the scanner function and starting to copy the map into the system, he seems to settle into a calm, like he's somehow centered by the union of man and machine. He takes a few moments to check the input of the scan before blinking and looking up.

`Ok, so we've got a few plans running around here, now don't we, lot?`

He props the link up so that it can continue processing and turns once more to the others, his previous fervor working back into his veins.

'Krank's got wheels and wants to use 'em to have a little fun; Unwin wants a Citymaster... both of which play well together; Flashbag's full of surprises but needs a little time someplace quiet, and there's talk of finding us a base of operations.`

He lets it all clatter-clack in his head a bit, and nods.

`Now wheels are good, mobility is key, and what better set to ride on than those of our oppressors. We get Flashbang some time to get some toys together, and then we can lure us some fuzz into an ambush, get us a prize. That'll be the first step, the first stike to keep the fire hot... but we need to take the message to the people, we need to let them hear the truth because the Man'll be spinning lies. So once we've got us a ride we need to be thinking base of ops, and then we need to get our voices heard city-wide and beyond...`

He's in full on rant mode when there's a knock on the door. He hops and turns heel, scooping up his commlink, and he moves to the other side of the table.

`Anyone order a pizza?`

[Dumori]

Johnny you've got connections couldn't you use the ABC and the matrix to send our message. Until we can hijack a better way of doing it. For impact we need a name and our colours. We need more like minded people and the ... equipment 'n' plans. Then we need places to flee and resupply before we strike hard. We need to be able to make the star and the met guard not want to enter the barrens but not want to burn them to the ground. Don't the orcs have there tunnle system under Seattle if we can get them on our side we are set.

[Deze]

Knocks on the door again louder this time


Yells: Aw come on, I saw you all go in there.


Adjusts his glasses and checks his watch, after knocking on the door

[Digital Heroin]

Pizza. Hell, he hadn't had pizza in ages. The kids had provided everything from a gun, to booze, to women, but they hadn't been able to rustle up a pizza. It was a little disappointing now that he thought about it. Not that he'd had a lot of pizza before, but what good's being a rising punk legend if you don't have a good rider in your non-existent contract?

Sidling to the door, he nods to Unwin.

`Yeah, I've got the Anarchist boys salivating for some action, but they're their own army, not mine. They'll spread the word, but we need to think bigger than just the Barrens. We need to broadcast.``

He pulls the Streetline Special from his belt, an action that would have in a past life seemed alien to him, but feels strangely good. Unlatching the door, he cracks it open a touch, bracing his foot to prevent it from opening further. Peering out at the guy with the glasses, he grunts.

`You the pizza delivery man? If not you'd better be someone good and special or I might have to take offense to your presence and lodge a formal complaint with the Warren Commission.`

[crazyconscript]

Damned pizza, probably not even got anything real on or in it. Who needs that soy pap when you can just kill a rat or three for a meal. Besides, the indigestion wouldn't be worth it

Now i'm all up for some rough rides, and taking a citymaster DOES sound like a helluva fun idea. One problem: you guys actually wanna keep the thing? It's probably going to be loaded with rfids and tracking devices. I can try and get them all off, but bikes are my gig, not honking great riot tanks. I know a guy who could probably do something with it though

[Digital Heroin]

Looking over his shoulder, apparently not too concerned there's someone at the door, Johnny grins a thousand megawatt grin.

`Why do we need to worry if the cops know we've got their wagon? This is a revolution. It's war, and you've got to get under the man's skin. No better way to do that than to make a chariot of one of his rides.`

He taps the muzzle of his Streetline against his forehead, thinking.

`Hell, I might even be able to do something about the tags myself, or talk to that friend of yours at least. No use having a chariot if they're just gonna jack it again.`

[Deze]

I apologize but I'm not the pizza delivery man. I'm Dr. Fennex or used to be at least. I followed you guys from the riot, I recognized you Johnny Molotov as the perfect man for my quest to "fix" this government and by fix I mean burned in a horrible inferno to watch them burn slowly and in much pain that their expressions won't even do it justice, that will be the pay for what they did. To watch the fire burn everything they love and crush their spirit, that is only fair. To hear them scream and beg while the fire consumes them slowly and yet beautifully, that will be their first taste of hell. A day I dream for..

I have medical training of a doctor and I'm no longer a Doctor by legal means due to not legally existing.
May I please help with whatever you are up to?

[Digital Heroin]

Looking back to the door, Johnny's mouth quirks in a grin.

`Burn, you say? Hell, I like your enthusiasm Doc. I'm pretty damn sure we'll end up needing a medico at some point or another on this mad crusade.`

He pulls his foot away from the door, unblocking it, and gestures for the good doctor to enter.

`Welcome to Rebel Center, don't mind the mess. We had to fire the maid.`