12:18:40, Saturday November 1st - The burned out old Soybucks at the intersection of 124th Ave NE and NE 132nd St
Thumper

Thumper's straining eyes swept over the meet one last time as he stepped backwards out the entrance he'd walked in such a short time ago. Jimbo and Rex were holding position by their door and Dominique by hers. He stared down the trolls and popped one massive knuckle unconsciously as he went out to rejoin his crew. He instinctively stepped up to Legion as the call was given; he smiled as he realized he'd arrived at the position of honor. The first assignment was going to be his, who cared if the beer was going to be gone when he got back.

The day was looking up, the order was more fun than he'd anticipated. Find Grack, go back home and knock some skulls. It was something to look forward to.

"We're on it." He said while pounding his chest in the Pack's salute. His superior's hand sign hadn't been lost on Thumper, it was a reassurance that the family he'd known was still lingering in Legion's skull.

He started walking North along 124th. Everyone on the main drag had seen heavy fighting and he'd always found that the fastest way to recon an are was to make some noise and see who came out to say "hello."

He sent a voice message as he walked. <<@Grack: Big man wants us to recon Hammerpack turf and I'm getting hungry. I'm walking up 124th now, lets get there, tear shit up and find some lunch.>>

12:19:46 Saturday, 01 November 2070 - The burned out old Soybucks at the intersection of 124th Ave NE and NE 132nd St
Legion, Thumper, Doc, Shade, Aziz, Felix, Bockscar

Shade shakes his head in response to Legion's question. "Almost nothing. The Splintered Crash was strictly small time, we had whatever weapons we scrounged up for ourselves."

He pauses. "This is just a suggestion, so take it as you will. But if you're already sending up Thumper and Grack to the old Hammerpack turf, why don't you send me and maybe one or two others? First, a recon in force might not be a bad idea, especially if the Ultraviolet Nights and Raider Nation are still prowling around looking for you, which they almost certainly are. Second, because we could probably scavenge some weapons from various battlegrounds in the area, and the fighting was fiercest in Central Kingsgate. I doubt we'll get much worth having from say, the Corsairs or LoCoS turf."

He nods deferentially. "Of course, if you have other orders for me, I am prepared for whatever responsibilities you have in mind."

Meanwhile, after several moments of hemming and hawing, Doc finally starts talking, rattling off a list of equipment he needs. The only problem is he's talking in technical terms which mean absolutely nothing to Legion.

Cutting him off with a sharp wave of his hand, the October Ravens leader says, "In English Doc. Simplify. Tell us your needs without the technical jargon."

The troll grimaces and looks like he's about to say something sarcastic, but apparently thinks better of it. He pauses, then starts over, explaining on a more basic level.

The problem essentially boils down to a balance between quality, price, and availability. He could make stuff with basic materials he could scrounge up, but it would be crappy and unreliable product. The more pricey the materials the better quality stuff and more reliable, but in addition to the higher cost finding the 'hardware' to produce it would be more difficult. The better equipment and materials would need to be purchased outside of Kingsgate, which did not have the quality or variety of materials necessary to set up a drug lab capable of mass production. He could get rolling small time with a basic chemistry kit, but a real chemistry shop would cost more in terms of time and money to get set up.

Doc spreads his hands when he's done explaining. "So there you have it. I can get rolling with a basic chemistry kit and bare minimum raw materials, but it's gonna be bad for our rep if we peddle that small time crap. Anything serious to make a good name for ourselves is going to take time to set up, and someone's going to have to go outside the 'Gate to get everything. Probably more than one trip, it ain't like they have a Do-It-Yourself-Drug-Kit at every SuperMart around."

Legion nods his understanding and begins contemplating this information, figuring out how to maximize the value of each member of the fledgling Ravens.

12:18:26 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – The old Headquarters of the Side Street Rollers
Fool

Fool wasnt the biggest most built human out there which made everyone bigger than him just think they could man handle him but everyone knew the scariest guyin a fight was the skinny strung out mother!@$^&% who could do anything at any moment and even though he had mostly quit doing the most dangerous kinds of BTL's he had been that guy in the past and he still knew how to twitch his body around and escape from most grapples. He was caught flat footed when gun guy latched onto his hand in an iron grip, but he was able to stay cool and just roll with it.

A little pull here and then a push in the other direction was all he needed to turn enough catch the knife in the his side and between his jacket and dermal plates he knew the cut had not penetrated. His changed position had also thrown off chain guy's feeble attempt to flail his leg with the length of chain he was using as a weapon. Now that he was more or less face to face he thought about throwing a headbutt into gun guy's face but he needed some space so he could pull his knife and really goto town on these guys so he decided to try and break the grapple first. Gun guy had a hold off his Fool's right hand with his right hand and his left arm around Fool's right arm like a brotherly embrace that was anything but. Fool grabbed onto gun guy's right wrist with his free left hand and then pulled with his right hand as his left pushed. His hand slid free as gun guy's wrist was being further and further back. Immedeately after his hand was freed he slipped it under gun guy's left arm which was wrapped around him and shoved gun guy's chest knocking him back a few steps and disengaging them from the grapple.

Now that he was free it was going to be alot easier to evade their attacks but Fool still had no weapons in hand and the moment he reached for them he knew they would all launch into another flurry of attacks. It was now or never for the flash pak. If gun guy pulled his piece and started shooting the fight could easily go downhill from there.

"You guys are so dead..."

12:16:26 - The burned out old Soybucks at the intersection of 124th Ave NE and NE 132nd St
Felix

The building Aziz and Bockscar had chosen to hide into had probably seen better days. Every single piece of furniture was long gone, along with any traces of paint or wall paper. It was just a gutted out old shell of someplace that used to be something to someone.

Felix had found himself a little spot, on the second floor, right on the edge of a gaping hole in the floor. From high up there, his scrawny little legs dangling just over Aziz and Bockscar's heads, the young mage could fell very clearly the tension that hung in the air. He had no ways of seeing outside and into the streets, and even less where the meet was taking place. Part of him was dying of curiosity to just sneak a peek and see what was going down... but he knew very well that someone might feel the extra presence. It was just too dangerous.

Looking straight up through the patchworked ceiling, Felix could almost see the sky. Every now and then, a little droplet of water would drop a few flight and hit the tiny puddle next to him, it's sound echoing in the empty building.

From down below, Felix could hear Aziz's voice. He leaned slightly forward, speaking down to the first floor.

“Hey Aziz.... I was thinking...... you know.... about our old place.... You think... You think we could go back?�

12:17:33 - The burned out old Soybucks at the intersection of 124th Ave NE and NE 132nd St
Aziz

Aziz looks up at Felix's dangling legs, and smiles.

Poor kid... he thinks, dragging on his cigarette.

"Whats the matter buddy, leave something there?", he asks. "Problem is, I don't think we have a place to go back to. Not the Y, not the old restaurant, not anything. Nothing left there but ghosts now..." he says, looking down at the cigarette in his hand, and flicking some ashes off.

"They say home is where the heart is... where you feel safe. Hell, we've had two homes, and look what's happened so far. Nothing to go back to, nothing to salvage."

Aziz bursts into laughter all of a sudden.

"Haha... oh man, something just occured to me... Is anyone going to tell TF's girlfriend that he's dead?"

12:20:31 Saturday, 01 November 2070 - The burned out old Soybucks at the intersection of 124th Ave NE and NE 132nd St
Legion

He glanced around in some irritation that his back-up team had not shown themselves yet. Drek needed to happen and he was shorthanded. But both Shade and Doc had good points.

He ran a hand through his hair before fishing through his pockets for a cigarette. Lighting up, he blew a stream of smoke into the sky.

"All right, Doc hustle back to the headquarters. Take Nevada and one other, someone reasonably cleaned up, maybe the short mage Felix. He's probably got some talents that'll come in handy. I've got four hundred nuyen on me, take it and get what you need to set-up a quality shop. I don't care who you beg, borrow, or steal it from, just come back with the gear. And not too much heat."

Legion forked over a certified credstick along with a wad of bloodstained corporate scrip. He quirked a smile as if to say sorry, it's not mine before turning to Shade.

"Yeah, another squad back up to our old turf wouldn't be a bad idea. Find Aziz and Bockscar and roll parallel to Grack and Thumper. Be back by midnight. I don't care who you roust out or what you grab, but don't get yourselves banged up so bad that you won't be able to support tomorrow's operations."

He paused to drag at his cigarette again.

"I'll hold down the fort at the headquarters. Keep the commlinks open, even though coverage is still iffy try and get a message through if you can."

Legion makes sure to share all commlink numbers that he has, including Grack and Thumper with the remaining Ravens, so everyone will be able to contact one another should the need arise. He headed back down the street at a quick pace, feeling better now that he had set events in motion. Truly he was a creature of action. Words were another weapon, no denying that, and he'd learned to use them well during his tenure as leader of both the Ghurka's and the Hammerpack. But he could not escape the essential nature of what he was: a warrior more at home wielding a sword and knife than at any other time. He grinned, skin stretching in vicious planes across his face, his teeth bared in a hunting snarl.

"All right, let's fragging execute."

12:18:26 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – The old Headquarters of the Side Street Rollers
Fool

Sometimes Fool hated being so damn smart. Like when he predicted the fight would rapidly go downhill if the gun guy drew his piece and started shooting. Sure enough, right after he pushed Pistol Guy away, the punk quickly drew his gun and shot at him. The first shot went wild, almost hitting one of his buddies, but the second caught him square in the chest. Armor took a lot of the force, but it still hurt like hell. Worse, it knocked him flat on his back.

"Punk ass Roller!"

Knife and Chain pounced like jackals, spreading out to catch Fool in the center of a triangle, making escape an increasingly unlikely proposition. Knife's blade flashed in, and Fool rolled to the side, not getting out of the way enough to avoid getting hit but enough to avoid it penetrating and doing any more damage.

"Think you're hot shit?! You're fuckin' done!"

Unfortunately, this only opened up his back to Chain Guy, who delivered a stinging blow to his back, causing him to arch in pain.

"Where's your crew now? You're gonna die bitch!"

They continued taunting him as they kicked, slashed, and whipped him, urban predators smelling blood and closing in the for the kill.

12:20:31 Saturday, 01 November 2070 - The burned out old Soybucks at the intersection of 124th Ave NE and NE 132nd St
Doc, Nevada, Felix, Aziz, Bockscar, Shade

Doc grunts in acknowledgment. The rest of the group follows Legion's lead, swapping commlinks to better stay in touch. Dialing Nevada, Doc growls in annoyance when he sees he can't connect with her. Stupid signal problems. Unable to reach her, he leaves a message instead, letting her know Felix and himself will be stopping by the HQ to pick her up and then head out.

Dialing Felix instead, he snaps, <<@Felix: Hey kid. Legion wants us and Nevada to go buy stuff for the lab. Meet up with me here, and you and I will head back to HQ and grab her before rolling out. And make it snappy, I ain't got all day.>>

Shade nods in understanding to Legion, then turns to begin 'fragging executing'. First, he dials Aziz and Bockscar and relays Legion's orders to them word for word, adding instructions for them to meet him down on the street and they'll roll out together.

As he waits for them, he calls Thumper, who's already departed, heading north along 124th. He's careful to portray his words in a respectful tone. <<@Thumper: Legion ordered Aziz, Bockscar, and myself to run parallel to you and Grack. Primary objective is scavenging. Since we'll be in the neighborhood, give us a call if you want us to meet up with you. >>

Doc and Shade settle in to wait, watching Legion head back to HQ and waiting for the backup team to arrive.

12:24:00 Saturday, November 1, 2070 - My World
Grack

No sooner had Kingsgate's Champion, its Shining Legend, closed his eyes for a peaceful nap than the roar of Riot Squad was interrupted by Duke Thumper's masculine voice announcing he was headed north to wreak mayhem and havoc.

Of course, here under Hammerpack turf, Our Hero knew exactly where he was, and where best to rendezvous with his Minister of Drink. <<Skraaa!!! Be watching for you at Pizza Bank.>>

And without further ado, he hefted his newly packed duffel across his shoulders, picked up his toy, and loped down familiar pathways through His World to a sewer grate he knew of across from the pizzeria.

Once he got there, as he watched for his cerri to approach, he bethought himself of the circumstances now exigent. Now that The Usurper had been vanquished (and yet lived - Strong or Weak? Weak!) in the Greatest Gang War of All Time, his former haunts might indeed be riddled with foes upon which he could impose noble vengeance. What better way to find them than to wield his new powers? And yet, it was so tiring. But for his Legend to grow, for his destiny to be fulfilled, the blood of his enemies must flood the streets. With a moment's concentration, he opened his senses...

12:56:12 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – 8-Balls old turf, a block and a half from the Temp HQ
Nevada

With her feet pounding the pavement and her distance a little over a block and a half away from the new HQ, her earbuds chimed with the notes of a waiting voice message. The small pop-up in the corner of her vision ID’ed the incoming callers name and time which caused her to slow her pace to a stop and retrieve the message while she was still holding a signal.

Internally she was cursing while she waited for the message to start.

It came in over 30 minutes ago, fucking reception.

Finally the message played back, Doc’s gruff voice barking in both her ears at once about him and the little mage kid picking her up at the HQ and them going “shopping� for technical crap she doesn’t totally get the gist of. Taking an additional second to leech off the remnants of Slippy’s repeaters she fires back a quick message to Doc before closing the remaining distance between her and the HQ.

<<@Doc: I’m about 2 minutes out, it’s almost 1. You guys back at HQ already? If so is Fool around, got word from Wally SSR turf is full of Hounds and Demons. Might want to give someone the heads up or try to reach Fool before I get back.>>

12:25:45 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Temporary Gang HQ: Apartment Building behind The Corner Pocket
Ink

Ink waited for five minutes dithering because he thought the chica would be right back. After seven minutes it became clear the girl wasn't coming back. He muttered a series of Spanish profanity under his breath. He glanced over at the kid.

"Jou got a piece?" The hombre looked at him with an odd expression.

"A gun, homes? Jeez where the hell did they find jou?" Child nodded quietly and shuffled through his things to come up with a shotgun.

"Where the fuck di jou get a Remmie? Know what mano it don't matter." The Cubano looked at the kid with a bit more respect.

"A'right let's roll. C"MON PUNTAS" The whores took their sweet time so it was a few minutes till they actually got rolling.

-----------

Cubano and kid walked down the street with the three whores in tow. Ink was feeling decidely unsure of himself. His entire world had been turned upside down. He was in an entirely new hood with a whole new set of hermanos and things were already getting hairier than he was used to.

He was in a lousy mood.

They entered Evergreen with a minimum of fuss by telling the door-ork that they were here to give Slippy his fee. The trog let the two bangers in without a word. They climbed the steps and finally arrived at Slppy's door. Ink knocked twice and waited. The troll showed up at his door.

"The fuck you want .... Azzie?" The troll sneered at Ink.

That tore it. He was not about to sit here and be insulted by some lousy trog.

With a lightening move the Cubano had his pistola in his hand and jammed in the trolls left nostril.

"I don't think jou wanna call me that homes. I think jou wanna take jour little fee and let us get the fuck outta here. Or I can put a new hole in your fraggin' head!"

"My boss...." grinned the less than intimadated troll "Jour boss shouldn't scare jou half as much as Legion hombre! Jour bosses don't live here. We. Do. And jou wanna keep us happy. Clear ese?" The troll just leered over Ink's head at the girls. "Whatever man."

Ink extracted his gun from the trog's nose and ushered the three puntas inside.

Finally the kid spoke. "Was that smart, man?"

The Cubano grabbed a sturdy looking chair and sat down to wait. "Prolly not. But no one, no one calls me an Azzie and gets away with it. I don' care who the frag they are."

Ink ran his hand through his short hair. "Frag it, Nevada wants to make nice, she can do it."

He looked around and spotted a mirrored section of wall near the unused elevator. As the pitch of moans and groans climbed inside the room, the Cubano moved his chair over beside the mirror and looked at his profile.

"Screw it, we got some time." He took off his jacket and then his shirt, revealing to Child why exactly he was called Ink. He dug through his bag and came up with his kit, he prepped his right arm where the LoCoS peice had stood proud for almost three years. Adios hermanos, see you around. He fired up the tat gun and set to work erasing the old while honoring the dead. "Homes try and stay outta my light. After, jou wanna get some chow?" The kid nodded as the needle started its peircing whine.

12:25:30 Saturday, November 1, 2070 - Outside the Pizza Bank
Thumper

It wasn't a long walk from the Starbucks to the Pizza Bank, but Thumper was taking his time and enjoying the relatively acid-rain-free weather. As he ambled up to the eating establishment and former fortress he looked and listened and smelled for his friend. Grack was quiet for an ork his size and it was only after hearing a metallic clink that Thumper spotted Grack skulking in the shadows across the street from the pizzeria.

Walking up to Grack he wound up for the traditional monster handshake then eyed the Pizza Bank hungrily.

He considered the various methods for extracting lunch from the restaurant and decided that intimidation seemed like the most reliable option. Not wanting to bother arguing with Grack about his earbuds or the details of his, in his own opinion, intricate and expert plan he sent a terse voice message while he strategized. <<@Grack: You know who Luigi's paying protection to?>>

He ruminated on the question while his compatriot flicked a piece of grime out of one of his mouth holes. In the conversational downtime he composed another brief message <<@Shade, Aziz, Bockscar: Me and Grack are getting some lunch from the Pizza Bank. Drop by if you feel like partying with us.>>

12:25:35 Saturday, November 1, 2070 - Outside the Pizza Bank
Grack

Young Grack threw down the fahd for his cerri by turning down the Riot Squad. He had not yet ascertained whether his new powers of telepathy could send as well as receive. And no true cerri would be his guinea pig.

"Today he's paying us."

12:58:56 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – 8-Balls old turf, a block and a half from the Temp HQ
Nevada, Doc, Felix

<<@Nevada: We've been here for about fifteen minutes waiting for you. Fool ain't here. We can swing through the old Rollers turf after you get here and we head out. We're heading to Bellevue anyway. I can't get the shit I need in Redmond. So hurry up and get your ass back to the HQ.>>

Turning to Felix, who was standing timidly at his side, he says, "She's on her way kid. When she gets here, we'll roll out."

12:26:05 Saturday, November 1, 2070 - Outside the Pizza Bank
Grack, Thumper, Shade, Aziz, Bockscar

Walking towards central Kingsgate with Aziz and Bockscar in tow, Shade sees Thumper's message flash across his commlink. A brief consult with his two companions yields a consensus: they were all hungry, and food sounded really good right about now.

<<@Thumper: We're on our way. We'll see you there.>>

Turning to the others, he says, "We've got a lunch appointment. Let's go."

He debates telling them to spread out and stay sharp, but decides he doesn't need to. He and Aziz might not exactly be kindred spirits, but as two of the Splintered Crash's chief protectors, they'd worked and fought together enough to know each other's moves pretty well. It was obvious Bockscar knew what he was doing too, and Shade figured it was better not to say anything unless it was needed.

The other two spread out and don't say much, keeping a close look out. Clearly, they knew the drill. Leading the way, Shade smiled to himself. Sometimes it was best to stay quiet and let others do their thing. Sometimes.

12:59:54 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Temporary Gang HQ: Apartment Building behind The Corner Pocket
Nevada

She ran the rest of the way back to the HQ not bothering to reply to Doc’s latest message. She came up the stairs of the building and into the lobby like her ass was on fire. She stopped and leaned against the doorframe, her chest rising and falling with the long deep breaths she was taking. It didn’t take but a glance around the place to spot Doc and Felix killing time in one corner of the main lobby.

“So we’re seriously hauling our shit over to Bellevue by foot? Via the Rollers turf. How the hell did I get signed up for this shit again?�

She shook her head and tried to flash a slight grin in their direction.

“I’d assume we’ve got cash for this run, or are we knocking skulls as a form of payment?�

Her left hand unconsciously moved to the front pocket of her pants, reassuring her that her blade was still within reach. Her eyes flickered over to the pile of junk she had stashed her shotgun as she internally debated if it was a good idea to tote that along on this trip.

01:01:06 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Temporary Gang HQ: Apartment Building behind The Corner Pocket
Doc

Doc flashes the nuyen Legion gave him. "This is what Legion gave us. Beyond that, we're on our own to beg, borrow, and steal whatever we need. As long as we come back with the gear and not much heat, he doesn't give a damn how we do it."

He looks at his two companions in crime. "You two ready to roll out yet or what? We'll stop by the Rollers turf and look for Fool, then cut over to Bellevue."

13:18:22 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Outside the gutted SSR’s HQ
Nevada

The internal struggle had continued until Doc had snapped and flashed the cash. From the looks of it they’d likely have to supplement what was in scrip with some theft and or violence.

“I was born ready.�

She popped a fragrant piece of cherry bubblegum into her mouth as she pushed away from the doorframe. With one last glance back at her shotgun she was already chastising herself. If they got into trouble down in Rollers’ turf she’d be up shit creek, but if their shopping trip was going to take them into Bellevue, most places didn’t appreciate gun-wielding gangers walking into their establishments. Besides, she didn’t need to try to explain that away if the
cops gave them any trouble. The switch however remained tucked in her front pocket in case things went south. Besides, Doc wasn’t about to let go of his precious axe unless someone pried it out of his cold, dead hands.

After picking up the group’s six on the way out the trio didn’t spend much time constantly shifting their route down into SSR’s turf. All three kept their eyes open along the way but if they were trying to be stealthy that was immediately ruined by Doc’s constant stream of technical jargon of just what they’d need to pick up and the waffling on what items would be better than the others, or what could be used as a back up plan.

Surprisingly as the small group crossed over the invisible border between the turfs at 128th, there were very few people out on the streets. Neither residents or gangers seemed to be in surplus down here, the latter she had been prepared for after her little chat with Wally. Hopefully that meant positive things if Fool had been sniffing around here. Even as they rattled the proverbial chains by poking their noses in what was left of the burned out and gutted HQ building, no one bothered them and there wasn’t any real sign of Fool as they made their way through the neighborhood.

Giving up on looking for Fool they decided to head west down 128th on a path that took them under the 405 and into the community of Bellevue. It was like walking into something out of a fairy tale. It was amazing that there wasn’t some kind of DMZ type stretch between the 405 and the “nice� parts of Bellevue. Those nice parts seemed to appear the second you walked out from the pedestrian tunnel under the freeway. The air felt healthier, the sky a bit brighter and the streets were definitely cleaner. Her guard dropped a little bit and she allowed herself to look around and actually take in her surroundings instead of looking for the next threat hidden around a corner.

Someday girl, someday indeed…

13:45:22 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Totem Creek Mall, Bellevue - Outside the DrugMart

As they trudged on, Doc started reminding the pair before they headed into Totem Creek Mall’s DrugMart just what he needed to get set up. From his mouth spilled scientific chemical names and various compounds that sounded like a foreign tongue to Nevada. Felix seemed to give a few nods and looks of recognition but she just gave Doc a blank but pointed stare.

“Ok brainiac, talk to me like I’m six. Give me your requests in terms and items I’ll recognize and be able to pronounce while we’re in there.�

“Oh. Cold meds, nail polish remover, drain cleaner, iodine, rubbing alcohol.� He paused as he thought of a few more things. “Coffee filters and aluminum foil.�

She held out her hand with an expectant stance and waited for Doc to hand over the cash before looking over to the scrawny little kid standing next to her. Roughly dividing the scrip in half she handed one to Felix before pocketing the other.

“I hope you got all that. We’ll split up the list and meet back out front.�

Felix and Nevada walked in through the automatic doors that whooshed open looking like the dirty street rats that they were. Out of place was an understatement but they split up and picked up their requested items along the way. She grabbed a couple packs of clove cigarettes when she checked out as well but made certain she used her own cash to pay for them. No need to piss off Legion over a pack of smokes. Surprisingly she got only a little grief for paying in corp scrip since hey, money was money over here and thankfully the bills with the bloodstains were somewhere in the middle of her stack.

With their bags in tow they met back up with Doc outside before he lead them towards the ElectroShack just a little further down the mall. She wasn’t exactly sure what they needed, but undoubtedly Doc had a long list of items just waiting to be bought or carefully palmed and slipped into coat pockets.

12:26:05 Saturday, November 1, 2070 - Outside the Pizza Bank
Grack, Thumper, Shade, Aziz, Bockscar

Hard on the heels of the Dread Champion's words, he spied to the south a trio of would-be "October Ravens." Once again, he marvelled at how ludicrous a name The Usurper had chosen. But perhaps it suited the gaggle of diaper-snipers scurrying their way, uncharacteristically emboldened by the fact that he and the Duke had already cleared the way of danger.

With a glance, he directed his cerri's attention to the newcomers, spitting in disgust. As they approached, he returned the Riot Squad to maximum volume and squatted in the shadow of the pizzeria's doorway, waiting for the Duke to lead their incursion.

12:18:29 Saturday, November 1, 2070 - The old Headquarters of the Side Street Rollers
Fool

Fool had tensed for it as soon as he saw Gun guy go for his piece, unable to go for his because he was to busy fending off the attacks of the other two Hellhounds which would explain why he didn't do a very good job of that either being distracted and all by the threat of a gun. There was a flash and then then metal slug slammed into his ribs, knocking him to to the ground.

His ribs felt like he had been punched harder than anything he had ever been hit by before but he worked through the pain only to see knife guy coming down extremely fast with his blade, trying to roll out of the way made knife guy mostly miss but opened up another minor gash in his side but unfortunately he had rolled right into the path of chain guy and as the chain came down across his back Fool saw stars. If it had been for his long armored jacket he would have been dead by now three times over, but thankfully he was still kicking although not for much longer.

As he began to push himself off the pavement he only now realized how much trouble he had truly bitten off. He had no chance of winning, He hadnt even gotten a swing off yet. The battle happening inside him to stay and fight or to try and run away while he could was just as fierce as what was going on in the meat world...

......Atleast thats what felt like had happened! Somehow he had managed to stay standing after getting shot, his long jacket wasnt only armored it also hid his silouette of his body making it hard to hit him unless you aimed right at the middle. Raising his left arm in the air and leaping to the right while sucking in his gut he managed to evade knife guy next slash which only got his jacket but he still had waltz right into chain guys flailing attack to his back, this time there wa less swing and it wasnt nearly as painful. Fool was in the thick of this battle, had not had the chance to fight back yet and they had barely hurt him. It was their turn to defend themselves now that he had his wicked blade in his hand. Fool spent countless hours doing nothing else except sharpening and polishing this blade just out of boredom and habit, its edge and point were just begging to be bathed in blood and Fool was going to do everything in his power to assist it.

"Your probably right", a smile spreads across Fool's face, "but its going to take three of you pussies to do it!!"

12:26:50, Saturday, November 1st - Outside the Pizza Bank
Thumper

Thumper looked at Grack and said, "Just what I was thinking." He added a half-grin and a wry "Skraacha" as the rest of their crew arrived.

Thumper briefly considered that they had a very significant force assembled. By reputation he knew Aziz and Shade had been the Splintered Crash's main enforcers. Bockscar had a goddamn assault rifle and he and Grack were the meanest motherfuckers in the sprawl. It was going to be a good afternoon. He hoped he didn't accidentally declare war on anyone.

He addressed the newcomers: "Hey Cerri, let's get some eats."

He then strode into the Pizza Bank as if he owned the place, floating on a light synthahol buzz, flanked by Kingsgate's finest and ready to alternately feast and fight.

12:35:00, Saturday, November 1st - The Pizza Bank
Thumper

The interior of the finacial institution cum pizza parlor was in greater disarray than usual. A table was smashed as was some of the safety glass which covered the kitchen area. As Thumper walked straight to the pimpled twelve year old ork at the counter, Grack immediately walked to the sole patron, a 20 year old bag woman who looked 40, and squatted near her, staring holes in her leathery face.

Slamming the bat on the counter, Thumper ordered five pizzas. The child cowered, ran behind a cubicle wall to some sort of staff area and shouting in Italian ensued. Moments later, a portly Italian human stepped around the corner and, spying the five well armed gangers taking up residence in his shop. Before Thumper could finish popping his knuckles the man was pleading for them to just wait a few minutes for the food. Shade's discomfort was palpable.

Five pizzas later, the gangers emerged from the misshapen building. While munching on his newfound prize, Thumper said " I don't know where you guys were planning on going. I was planning on walking to the HQ and seeing who go tin my way. Come along if you want."

Nodding at Grack and discarding the greasy cardboard pizza disc as he chewed on the remaining half of the pizza, Thumper looked eagerly up 124th and towards the intersection with 142nd.

12:35:05, Saturday, November 1st - The Pizza Bank
Grack

After consuming his goumet Mediterranean repast at a rate most unbecoming one of his royal breeding, Our Hero neatly licked up those morsels that had fallen out through his cheekholes and followed The Duke to the door. There, however, he hesitated, letting the boy-lovers precede him.

Just crossing the street from the entrance to His World and this restaurant had been entirely painful enough. The thought of marching all the way down to the Hammerpack command post at midday, well, his skin felt like it was burning off just at the thought of it. Only mad dogs and all that.

A quandary indeed. On the one hand, he could scarcely leave his cerri unwatched amidst likely hostile territory. Neither would he entrust The Duke's safety to the ghoul-feeders with whom they were travelling. And yet he could do his comrade no good if his flesh ignited beneath the wrath of the noonday sun.

He glanced up from the safety of the doorway. With the sun directly overhead, neither side of the street offered much solace, and Seattle's perennial cloud cover did nothing to stop the deadly ultraviolet rays.

Ultimately, however, he knew his duty to his last true compatriot. Within a few minutes they would reach the old clubhouse and he could get under cover. Until then, none would see his pain.

Hefting his bag over his shoulder, he strode forth boldly into the brightly lit street, longing to retreat into His World, or even to cover his hairless head with his jacket. But instead he simply spit on the ground in the wake of the other three would-be gangers, and said to The Duke, "Skraacha - lets go get some ears."

Only the whiteness of his knuckles as they gripped the tungsten haft of his Toy betrayed his agony.

13:37:04 Saturday, 01 November 2070 – Temporary Gang HQ: Apartment Building behind The Corner Pocket
Legion

He watched as Doc, Nevada, and Felix headed out to acquire what was necessary for the troll to setup his lab. He sighed, climbing the stairs again to the second floor room where he'd slept earlier. Habit brought him back to the room, even though the rest of the building was his for the choosing, he didn't feel much like exploring.

It was strangely quiet in the building, almost all of his soldiers were gone on their various missions. He missed the noises of a full headquarters, the all-hours hustle and flow of a vibrant gang. He stretched his hand into the bright beam of sunlight filtering through the boarded up window, feeling the heat begin to burn his skin even though his mind knew it was just imagination. He wondered why it was he could feel something as transient as the sun upon his skin, and yet not feel anything for the brothers and sisters he'd left scattered across the center of Kingsgate.

Wordlessly, he set his sword aside and pulled his Strykers out of the pockets of his cargo pants. Locking them open, he ran through the angles on both hands. Slowly at first, then at speed.

He could see them all in his mind's eye, their faces, their gestures, how they wore the sash of the Hammerpack with pride, how they watched him with fear, or awe, or pride, or lust. How they had followed him onto the plains of battle. How they had died for him.

He transitioned to standard six, his balance shifting forward, flowing first side to side, then circular as he wove a deadly net of steel around himself. Standard six gave naturally into the figure eight. Then back to disarms. Then back to six.

He was deluding himself, though. They didn't die for him, anymore than they had lived for him. They died believing for what the Hammerpack stood for, for what the October Ravens stood for now.

Legion stopped, staring at the wall in front of him, knives held lose and point down in his hands.

And what is it that we believe? What is it that we stand for? What makes us better? Are we better than any of the other gangs?

He cocked his head to the side, confusion clouding his face. Why ask these questions? What did it matter? There is no better, there is no worse. There is only predator and prey. There is the strong and everyone else.

Legion folded his knives and put them back in his pockets. Picking up his sword again, he turned back to the window.

"This is the Law: the purpose of fighting is to win, there is no possible victory in defense, the sword is more important than the shield and skill is more important than either, the final weapon is the brain, all else is supplemental."

Opening the door, he went out into the hallway. It was time to familiarize himself with this building.

14:25:22 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Totem Creek Mall, Bellevue
Nevada

After she and Felix had come out of the ElectroShack empty handed when they nor the "specialist" could find what the angry Troll was looking for, Doc had no choice but to go in and look for the specific items himself. He left Felix standing outside watching over his axe, which in itself was an amusing sight to behold. Once back inside she split away from the Troll who was garnering more than his fair share of the attention of the workers and patrons in the store. Nevada used that to her advantage as she walked the narrow aisles and looked over a few items here and there while others that were small and likely untagged, carefully found their way into her pocket.

She paused and looked over the locked case of commlinks and their various upgrades available within the store with a sense of longing. There were so many different things she wanted to spend money on, but of course money was in very short supply where they were from. Here the arrogant kids behind the counters made the kind of money in a week that she used to earn on her back for a few hours in Touristville. But of course they didn't live in a run-down apartment building like she did, and they didn't have to worry about if they'd have water let alone hot water. They lived a privileged life, and frankly she hated them for it, if for no other reason than being oblivious as to how good their life really was while they whined about how their life sucked because they didn't get to see this band play or how they didn't get laid. She cracked her knucles loudly and walked away from the case and back over to Doc who was getting ready to check out. She handed him the scrip she had left when the pile from Felix came up short for what he was buying.

She didn't waste any time getting out of the store, her mood had soured considerably and instead of seeing all that Bellevue had to offer compared to The Barrens all she saw was greed and shining examples of selfishness and flaunting of affluence. She was getting bitchy and she couldn't remember the last time she had really eaten anything substantial, which was likely adding to her moodiness.

"Either of you guys hungry? There's gotta be a place around here to grab a bite to eat before heading back across into hell."

Asking Doc if he was hungry was like asking Thumper if he wanted a drink. The answer was always yes. Felix looked like he needed to eat a pure stick of fat just to get some meat on his bones so she doubted he'd reject the chance to get something to eat.

"Pick somewhere you guys, I'll worry about covering the tab ok?"

She let the guys lead the way, all three of them toting various shopping bags filled with their hauls as Doc made a bee-line to the mall's El Loco Burrito for some cheap and easy mexican food. A little strategic flirting with the kid behind the counter netted them a decent enough discount that they didn't have to dip into Legion's cash to cover food. Still cost a little more than she was eager to part with, especially with the amount Doc ate. Once the guys were settled with their food she snuck away to grab a salad from the Fresh-N-Green a few stalls down in the food court. Sitting too close to the guys and their grub was making her skin crawl enough as it was and she wasn't going to get through the rest of the day just drinking sodas and smoking cigarettes.

"So what's next on the list Doc? Or are we icy here and we have to head back across the border?"

13:00:00, Saturday, November 1st - Hammerpack HQ
Grack

After what may well have been an eternity, or else something very close to it, Our Hero and The Duke led the quintent into the old Hammerpack headquarters. Had he not been working so hard not to show any hint of the agony he had suffered in the sun's rays, the protagonist of our story may well of squatted and given vent to his bowels in disgust at the prospect of ghoul-feeding weaklings such as these crossing the threshhold of what for him had once been a second home.

But for now, as the others went about checking the place for danger, he simply sat down in his favorite corner, as was his wont. Reaching for the handsome cache of supplies in his duffel, he quickly downed a bottle of water, naturally room temperature so as not to interfere with his delicately balanced constitution, and then started in on some of the gourmet soy bars that were never far from his person.

Beside him lay an old synthwood door, and he used one booted foot to nudge it aside and glance down. Years ago he had knocked a hole in the floor, creating easy access between Their World and His. And so it was that with the gateway to Darkness so near at hand, he resolved that he would under no circumstances venture forth into the sunlight on this day, the others be damned. Here on his old stomping grounds, there was nowhere they could go that he could not follow....

Within moments of arrival, Genghis Fang was roaring into his ears at maximum volume.

13:00:00, Saturday, November 1st - Hammerpack HQ
Aziz

Aziz surveyed the old building and grunted.

"So whats on the agenda after this? Start getting a protection gig going? Oust some locals to expand our turf? Go back to Legion for orders? Anything besides standing around?"

12:18:32 Saturday, November 1, 2070 - The old Headquarters of the Side Street Rollers
Fool

Give credit where credit was due. Fool fought hard, not backing down or giving in an inch to the combined assault of the 405 Hellhounds. But at the end of the day, 3 on 1 is still 3 on 1. No sooner had the last taunting words cleared his lips than Pistol Guy leveled the handgun at him again and fired, twice.

The first shot hit him dead center in the chest. The armor stopped the bullet from going through, but the impact sent him spinning to the ground. The second shot caught him right in the gut, and he felt it penetrate flesh. He was barely conscious when Knife Guy stepped in from behind even as he was falling and stabbed him in the back, the blade slicing through his armored jacket and piercing sharply through his dermal plating to the vulnerable flesh below. By that time though, Fool barely noticed. His eyes slumped shut and he barely noticed the impact of his body hitting the pavement. For him, the sky was already fading to black...

13:00:05, Saturday, November 1st 2070 - Hammerpack HQ
Shade

"Legion told us to scavenge whatever we could from the area and recon the area in force. He wants to know if it's viable for us to come back if he decides to take the deal and return here."

He glances around at the others. "So how do you guys want to do this?"

13:00:10, Saturday, November 1st 2070 - Hammerpack HQ
Thumper

Thumper ran a hand along one bullet pocked wall as Aziz spoke. It had been less than a day since he'd been hunkering down here waiting for Legion to rally the muscle he'd managed to corral back in HQ. Ghost had been keeping them in line while Thumper handed out everything that looked like a weapon. He could still feel the jet of flame that had coursed through the window seared into the back of his retinas. It had come out of nowhere, an unnatural fire which writhed and roared and gnawed on concrete and wood and flesh. Molotov cocktails had followed it in, but the first blast had been something not of this world, a chunk of hell itself thrown through the window. He shuddered a little remembering Ghost disappearing into the smoke. He'd dived out a window then, and fought until he blacked out. The details were fuzzy.

The question had snapped him back to reality.

"I figure we walk around and look for stuff. Food, booze, guns, cash, trouble, whatever. I say we start walking that way he said pointing South.

He gathered his bat and a piece of blackened rebar which had fallen from the wall. It was a good length, and was a suitable souvenir of the Pack's passing. He was kind of hoping to bury it in someone's head. He cast about briefly for a bag of some kind, but realized that nothign of that sort would have survived the conflagration. Sniffing the smokey air once he started walking out of the ashes of his former life.

15:05:17 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Totem Creek Mall, Bellevue
Nevada, Doc, Felix

The troll takes a long swig of his SoyCoke and belches loudly, a gift of the carbonation.

“Nah, we still got a buncha other shit to pick up first. Shouldn’t be more than a few more stores.�

As Doc returned to scarfing down his food, Nevada turned her attention to Felix, who was poking at his food and nibbling little bits at a time.

“What’s wrong kid, you ain’t hungry?� Doc asks between mouthfuls.

The young mage doesn’t look up from his food. He shakes his head slightly and says, “No I’m fine.�

It’s obvious to Nevada something’s on the kid’s mind, but she isn’t about to ask. Not her biz, and besides, they all had plenty that could be on their minds.

They eat in silence for a little while, just taking in the sights and sounds of a one of Bellevue’s high class malls. Bitterness notwithstanding, Nevada couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to afford to shop in a place like this regularly. Real food, nice clothes, a job that didn’t require her to be on her back, there were worse things in life…

She snapped out of her reverie as she noticed a small group of security guards slowly gathering around them. Two of them approached their table while the rest fanned out in a circle around them. A quick count revealed at least six, maybe more. Way too many for this to be just a friendly chat. Nudging Doc and Felix under the table with her foot, she looks around with her eyes, indicating the incoming threat.

“Hey, you kids mind if we inspect those bags? We had a complaint earlier.� The guard’s tone is friendly, but it’s clear he won’t take no for an answer.

“What the hell are you talking about? We paid for these things, you can check the store’s scanners. What the fuck you getting all up on us for?� Doc rises to his feet, voice raised as he stands. It is part act, trying to bluff them into backing off, but more to get into a better position for when the drek hits the fan. The street-hardened gangers know there wouldn’t be this many guards if they just wanted to check the bags.

Nevada wonders what the hell the cops could be talking about. Yeah, she pocketed some stuff, but nothing to warrant this kind of heat, even with them looking like gangers. After all, it’s not like other kids around the mall weren’t trying to look ‘street’ themselves, and Felix didn’t exactly fit the stereotype either.

Then it hits her. The axe. Doc’s combat axe probably got picked up by a metal detector somewhere, and someone called the guards.

“OK kids, let’s go, we’re going to ask you some questions at the security office.� The guard’s tone is clear this is not a request.

“The fuck you say. We’re outta here.� Doc grabs his bag and shoves past the guards, who let him go past them, but walk a few steps behind. Nevada and Felix follow.

As they approach the outer ring of guards, the two who initially approached them lunge at Doc, pulling out stun batons as they do. When they do, Nevada and Doc were ready for them. One receives a crack in the face from Doc’s bag, while the other gets a shiv in his side, courtesy of Nevada.

The other guards were already moving though, expecting things to go bad. Pulling their own stun batons, one of them heads for Nevada while the others rush Doc.

The troll rips his bag open and pulls out his axe. “You fuckers wanna rumble!? Let’s do it bitches!�

A wild melee breaks out, the troll swinging his axe wildly and the guards trying to stay out of reach of the enraged troll. Nevada squares off with the other guard, slashing and thrusting, keeping his stun baton away from her. All around them, people are screaming and running, some to watch the fight, others to get away from it.

Only a few seconds into the brawl, Nevada smiles to herself. This cheap rent-a-cop’s no match for her. Hell, he probably never was in a fight in his life. Couple more moves and she’ll finish him off, then go help Doc.

Her confidence evaporates almost as fast as it had built though, as she feels a heavy impact on her head and back. She hits the ground flat on her stomach, the air knocked out of her, her knife skittering out of her grasp. She rolls with it, and looks up to see the guard she knifed originally standing over her, one of the food court chairs in his hands.

The two guards close in on her as she desperately tries to scramble back to her feet. They surround her, and are about to strike when both of them suddenly drop to the floor, groggy and obviously stunned, even though no one hit them.

She feels a tug on her sleeve, and she sees Felix at her side, pulling her away from the fight and into the crowd. She quickly snatches her knife off the guard and tries to head back into the fight, but the small street kid grabs her wrist.

“What the fuck are you doing? We’ve got to go help Doc!� she snarls at him.

Pointing, the kid answers, “We can’t. Look!�

Turning back, she sees Doc being dragged to the ground by almost six or seven guards. Sheer numbers were overbearing him, and the guards weren’t being nice either. Repeatedly kicking, stomping, whacking, and stunning him, it was as vicious as any gang beating she’d ever seen, right in the middle of the Totem Creek Mall.

As accustomed as she was to violence, she was still shocked by the blatant abuse of police authority. She knew shit like this happened…but here? In Bellevue?

Yeah it happened here, but only because we’re gutter street trash no one gives a rat’s ass about anyway,, she thought bitterly to herself.

She turns back to see Felix has already grabbed their other bags, the ones with the drug lab stuff. Snatching one out of his hands she starts pushing her way through the gathered crowd, the young mage flowing stealthily behind her. “Come on, we’ve got to get out of here before they remember out us, or we’re next.�

The two of them shove through the onlookers as fast as they can, trying to get while the getting was good. Behind her, she hears a vicious sizzle of electricity, its sound somehow slicing through all the background noise. Over the ruckus, she hears Doc roar in agony, then another few sizzles immediately after. She doesn’t hear him scream this time.

As Felix and her break free from the crowd, her heart pounding in her ears, she runs towards the escalators, running over, around, and through anyone in her path. She doesn’t look back. Again.

12:44:45 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Evergreen Apartment Complex
Ink

Ink was just finishing the last detail of his new/old piece. The date Oct. 31, 2070 sat beneath the now crossed out LoCoS gang symbol. Later the Cubano promised himself he would add the names of the fallen.

Slippy's door yawned open with the trog himself in a half sized green-grey bathrobe. Ink shook his head at the trolls's lousy attitude.

"Here ya go Azz man. Your girls, in working order no less." The trog sneered daring the Cubanao to do something, anything. Ink longed to walk over and cut the pinto right off the troll and feed the meta his own genitals. He looked over at Child and realized that the kid would be no help if it came to a scrap. Then the Cubano caught sight of one of Slippy's enforcers walking up the hall.

Screwit, I'll get you later punto. The young man thought.

"Let's go girls" grunted Ink as he started shoving his shit back into his bag.

---------

Down on the street Ink regarded his collection of whores and kids.

"Jou chica's okay?" he asked.

"I think he hurt me, down there." The whiny one spoke. "Shut up bitch, at least he let up on your tits." rejoined the mouthy one.

"Both of jou shut up! I don't know how jour last pimp handled jou, but Legion is running the show now. That means jou do what he says, and what he says is to make dinero." Ink shouted.

"But we didn't even get paid for Mr. Tit Crusher!" snapped the mouthy whore.

"That was jus' our way of making sure trog boy stays happy till we can get something working." Ink responded.

The Cubano sighed, how the hell had he gone from a reasonably respected ganger to a whore watching bitch in less than a day?

"Shit, lets get some eats all." said the ganger. The small collection of people moved away from Evergreen Apartments.

15:46:41 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – NE 128th St. and 116th Ave NE, Bellevue
Nevada

They had hightailed it away from the mall, doubling back on their escape route enough times until Nevada felt secure that no one was following them. Felix had undoubtedly assured her over and over that there was no one there, but she couldn't at that very moment trust his "spidey sense" to her getting away.

The throbbing in the back of her head and across her shoulder blades pulsed in syncopation with each step she took, amplifying the intensity with every thud of her boots. She slowed her brisk walk to a slow gait all the way to a stop as they hit the corner before the freeway and the pedestrian tunnel that would take them back to the gutter and back into the heart of the gang war. She was cursing herself for letting the rent-a-pigs get Doc. She was cursing herself for not getting a better shot at the cop she stuck with her knife. Taking an extra second to breathe she set the bags she was carrying down and muttered in a number of different languages under her breath, none of it ladylike in the slightest.

"Might as well take advantage of the decent matrix access and shoot off a heads up back home. You want to do it or should I?"

She cast her glance towards the frail little kid beside her and his eyes told her quickly enough that he didn't want to be the one to tell Legion the news. She exhaled a long, drawn out breath and snatched her commlink from her belt, and started a text message in hopes it would get to its destination before they did.

<@Legion: Trouble over in Bellevue, Doc got popped by the mall cops, the kid helped us get away. We've got some gear but no one to make dinner. Back at HQ in 20.>

Sliding the commlink back into a pocket she studied the drying blood of the cop that had covered the knuckles of her left hand and she shook her head.

"Fucking cops. C'mon lets go. I want to spend as little time walking along SSR turf, just the two of us, as possible with who knows who lurking for an easy target."

The pair made their way back under the 405, quickly ducking into alleys and down side streets that Nevada knew like the back of her hand in her old turf. It wasn't long before the old apartment building came into view and the pair was walking through the front door, dropping the bags of crap inside the main lobby.

Double Post

?? : ?? : ?? Saturday(?), November 1(?), 2070 – Facedown on a street somewhere
Fool

Warm, wet liquid rolled down his back and sides. Small bits of glass and gravel pricked at his face and chest. Slowly, Fool opened his eyes, and immediately slammed them shut again, wincing.

His head throbbed like a gang of trolls with jackhammers were working as if their lives depended on it, and there was a sharp, numbing pain in his lower back.

A stiff breeze rolled through the streets, and he shivered involuntarily, immediately regretting it as his skin ground against the glass and gravel. Wait, his skin? And it felt colder than it should have, it wasn’t this cold earlier… why did the damn street feel so prickly?

With a start, Fool sat up, realizing he was butt naked except for his underwear. Apparently no one had been that desperate yet. Right after that realization, the trolls in his head started smashing away with hammers again, and he closed his eyes, burying his head in his hands, trying to regain his bearings.

The blood was still leaking out of the wound in his back, running down inside his underwear and into his ass crack, creating a distinctly uncomfortable feeling. Sweat and blood covered him and…a distinct scent that smelled suspiciously like urine. He sniffed himself, praying he wasn’t totally humiliated in addition to freezing, nearly butt naked and half dead.

Unfortunately, God must have been on his lunch break at the moment, because it was definitely urine. On him.

Fuck! What the fuck! They beat the shit out of me, stole all my stuff, and pissed on me, but they didn’t kill me!?!??!?! Why the fuck didn’t they kill me? Think I wasn’t a threat? I’ll show them! Those fuckers are going to regret the day they were born when I get my hands on them. I’m gonna do what that guy in that one sim did to that other guy who…

His internal rant cut itself as his vision gradually cleared and the pain in his hand dimmed to a dull roar. There were dark stains elsewhere on the pavement which looked suspiciously like blood, and there was too much of it, and too spread out, to be his.

Apparently it was his ‘lucky’ day, and someone else had stumbled on the 405 Hellhounds while they were stomping a new hole into the cement with him, distracting them from finishing the job. Who the newcomers might have been and who won he had no idea.

What he did know was he was sitting in the street outside his old HQ with nothing but his underwear on, and it was getting damn cold. And who knew if the Hellhounds or the other party was coming back any time soon…

13:25:03, Saturday, November 1st 2070 - Hammerpack's Old Turf
Aziz

The four gangers aimlessly wandered around the Hammerpack's old turf, spotting the occasional scrubbed out tag, but other than that, there was... nothing.

"This is fuckin' weird. Where's all the people? Where's all the bodies? Where's all the... anything?", Aziz scoffs, kicking some rocks in the street.

"Nothing's gonna happen out here... It'd be suicide to stroll into UV or Raider turf. I'm open to some ideas, anythings better than this ghost town. Fuck, we could go play pool or something."

15:48:19 Saturday, 01 November 2070 – Temporary Gang HQ: Apartment Building behind The Corner Pocket
Legion

Hearing the commotion downstairs, he headed down from the third floor. A smile started when he saw that it was Nevada and Felix back.

"Hey," he called out from the stairs, "you get everything you need? Where's Doc?"

The smile faded as he watched the pair exchange looks.

"Didn't you get my message?" asked Nevada, tapping her commlink. Legion shook his head, resting his sword on his left shoulder and glancing at his own interface just to verify that nothing had come through. His face settled into a distant, detached calmness.

"No. What happened?"

13:25:23, Saturday, November 1st 2070 - Hammerpack's Old Turf
Thumper

"I bet the 162's have been rolling through here. With no one holding down the turf they got the run of the place and plenty of good eats and nice toys." Try as he might, Thumper couldn't register any hatred for the ghouls. They were doing what they had to like everyone else down here.

He furrowed his brow and stopped trudging through the light flurries and cold weather. Thumper didn't particularly want to go home empty handed, but was aware of the tenuous political position the fledgling Ravens were in. Still, he felt the need to assert his masculinity.

"I'm not afraid of Raiders or the UV crowd, but I do think we ought to talk to bossman about what to do next."

He composed a text message and sized up Aziz for the first time. He'd only met the Arabian samurai a few hours ago and his partner in crime of the past few hours hadn't really registered in Thumper's mind before now. Thumper figured that he could take him. Didn't know much about the guy though.

<<@Legion: We've looked the turf over. No one's here, just a few new tags on the edge of the turf. I think the 162s have been tearing up the place; no bodies. Haven't found any good swag, waiting for orders and looking for stuff. Won't roll on Raiders or UV unless you give the word...>>

"Yeah, I'll play pool if you find a table. At least until Legion gets back to us, we ought to do our own thing."

Pausing a moment, Thumper continued.

"I don't know that we've been properly introduced. I'm Thumper. Where do you want to look for the table?"

15:51:14 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Temporary Gang HQ: Apartment Building behind The Corner Pocket
Nevada

She shook her head, and fished out the pack of clove cigarettes from her pocket. At the rate she was blowing through them she was going to have to score enough cred to buy a case on her next trip out. She could start to feel the first tendrils of exhaustion start to wind through her body, the oncoming Long Haul crash that was around the corner. As she spoke, she exhaled the first drag of her cigarette.

"Doc's likely spending at least a night on the city of Bellevue's dime. We were minding our own business, grabbing a bite to eat when like 10 rent-a-cops at the mall circled us. Wanted to ask a few questions and of course Doc's not having any of it and out pops the axe and all hell breaks loose." She took a long drag on her smoke, her eyes locked on the gangleader's face, not needing to check her story with Felix.

"Got one of them good with my knife, and he returned the favour with a chair. The kid managed to drop a couple with his magic shit, but by then the rest of them had shocked the hell out of Doc and were dragging them off. Would have likely ended up right beside him if it wasn't for the kid."

She pulled her knife from her pocket and flicked it open, the blade coated in the security guard's blood. She quickly started to wipe it clean on the dark fabric of her pants.

"So yeah, we've got everything we need, except for Doc."

13:26:14, Saturday, November 1st 2070 - Hammerpack's Old Turf
Aziz

The hair on the back of Aziz's neck bristled at the mention of the 162s.

"162s... fucking sub-humans... khara.", he growls. He casts his eyes over the area, vainly hoping to catch a glimpse of something as he tightens his grip on Kalila. He frowns when nothing appears and relaxes his hand.

He sighs and looks at Thumper, taking stock of him.

He'd be no match for me. If he paired up with the filthy one, that might pose a bit of a problem though... But I guess we're family now anyway...

"Don't think we have either... Name's Aziz, and I'd say we'd head back to the Corner Pocket, but that might as well be heading back home. Could find a bar in Touristville. Maybe even rustle up a fight or two."

15:51:39 Saturday, 01 November 2070 – Temporary Gang HQ: Apartment Building behind The Corner Pocket
Legion

Legion tilted his head to the side, leaning against the railing of the stairs. His eyes were cold and distant, but he could already feel the anger building inside of him.

"Let me see if I understand. You went to a mall. In Bellevue. With a troll. And an unregistered mage. With weapons. Are those the salient details?"

15:51:53 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Temporary Gang HQ: Apartment Building behind The Corner Pocket
Nevada

Nevada's dark eyes narrowed into slits as their leader started to take stock of the situation and begin to lay blame. She wasn't about to have any of it and took a step towards the stairs and lifted the lit cigarette to emphasize her points.

"You sent Doc off to get what he needed and told him to bring us along. He knew what he needed for gear and ingredients and they weren't going to be found over at the bodega or anywhere near by, so he took us off to Bellevue. And given the fact that everyone out there is out for blood around here I wasn't about to go off without a knife. So yeah, those are the details."

15:52:08 Saturday, 01 November 2070 – Temporary Gang HQ: Apartment Building behind The Corner Pocket
Legion

"I sent the three of your for supplies. Not to get a bite to eat. Not to loiter and window shop. To move in and out quickly in order to acquire gear which we could use to help finance the gang. Now what? Now we've wasted resources on things that none of us know how to use correctly. One of our brothers is in jail. And you managed to rouse the public sentiment of Bellevue against us. Maybe this time they cry loud enough that Lone Star actually pays attention and rolls a couple of riot control squads through Kingsgate. Maybe bust up some of the gangs, knock some skulls in and make some arrests. In the end it'll fall out to what we have now, but in the meantime we'll be living thin. And all because you let your stomach do the thinking."

Legion let his voice drop down to its casual quietness.

"I hope you enjoyed the food, because the rest of us will be hungry because of it."

15:52:18 Saturday, 01 November 2070 – Temporary Gang HQ: Apartment Building behind The Corner Pocket
Felix

Ever since they had gotten back behind the Corner Pocket, Felix had fallen dead silent. Not that he wasn't usually silent. But he was even more so. Every single breath he took in, he did as quietly as he could. Every beat of his hearth made itself as shy as it could. About two blocks away, his tiny arms had finally started to tremble under the load he had been forced to carry all the way from Bellevue, and by the time he was a few feet away from Legion, Felix felt like his entire body was shaking like a leaf.

The little psychic was rather glad Nevada had stepped up to do the talking, since whatever he would have came up with would have sounded only like stuttered gibberish. A big ball had lodged itself in his throat, and the more Legion spoke, the tiniest Felix felt.

As Legion threw a last stab at them, Felix swallowed hard and looked from under his hood.

“I......� started Felix, his voice coming out only as a bare whisper.

“I....� he continued, still seemingly trying to communicate.

He took a deep breath, trying to settle down his nerves as much as he could. Felix's eyes crossed Legion's for a brief moment, but he diverted his look to some dirty spot on the floor.

“I could cook...� was all he was finally able to say.

15:52:42 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Temporary Gang HQ: Apartment Building behind The Corner Pocket
Nevada

Nevada had always had a messed up sense of answering to authority. With her pimp she had been willful and combative and being Caine's main squeeze along with a laid-back hierarchy within the 8-Balls, she hadn't had to deal with one person calling the shots within a gang. So there she stood, all 5-feet 4-inches of her bravado wrapped in synthleather and mascara at the bottom of the staircase shooting Legion a look that just screamed out "Fuck you" in no uncertainty. Just as she was about to let loose with her words to back up the look, the shy little mage stepped up and caused her to bite her tongue with three little stuttered words.

Maybe everything wasn't lost afterall.

She pulled her hand out of her pocket and with a flick of her wrist a small object went sailing through the air and landed up a few stairs near Legion's feet with a soft thud. A tightly wound roll of bound corp script, a fair portion of the initial cash he gave Doc laid at his feet. Her upper lip twitched as she fought the anger still boiling inside her. Instead she dragged hard on her cigarette before speaking rather calmly, though the fire was still in her eyes.

"There's extra food in one of the bags, probably still warm. And for the record, that came out of my own pocket. And, you're welcome."

She turned on her heel and walked back to the front door for some air.

14:15:00, Saturday, November 1st - Hammerpack HQ
Grack

The young Lord Grack, the Indomitable, the Unvanquished, the Immortal, was gratified to see the others leave. Of course The Duke's presence had been perfectly appropriate, but the others...they may have a place with this fledgling October Ravens organization, but in no conceivable way were they Pack, and to have them lolling about the old clubhouse reeked of sacrilege, a blasphemy against fallen cerri.

Munching on a soybar, finally in solitude, the peaceful tones of Genghis Fang hammering placidly against his eardrums, he reflected on how many hours remained until dark. The thought made him sleepy. Of course, he had originally come north to retrieve his treasures and take them back to the new keep he'd cleared the night before. He could still do that, hiding from the sun's rays in the dark fastnesses of His World. But that thought made him sleepy, too. Soon, he was lying down peacefully beside the bolthole into His World, his head reposed upon his duffel.

'Ere he drifted off to blissful slumber, however, his canny warrior instincts reminded him that this former haven of security was now the shamed centerpiece of the Usurper's disgrace. But should a god fear to sleep where and when fancy struck? Of course not, for every deity had his angels! With a langorous thought, he kept his heavy eyelids open long enough to call out to Modesty and Chastity, shifting into the Color World as he did so.

Much to his consternation, however, they did not immediately appear, though he was sure that this time his call was loud and clear. And indeed, after a moment, he was rewarded with a manifestation. Up from His World climbed being most splendid. Much like a noble ork it was in form, though it was naked. Or rather, it was not clothed. For who could say naked of so magnificent a hide of scales and spurs. And the teeth! Oh, heavens, the teeth. Our Hero near swooned with envy for the row upon row of serried and jagged blades that filled the distended mouth of his new friend.

So delighted was the Young Lord with this new slave that he blessed it with the sound of his voice, honoring it with the poetry of his words.

"Vut. What the fuck are you?"

It made no reply - at least none that could be heard over the tumultuous goblin rock in Our Hero's ears - but only stared forward with yellow, unblinking orbs that bulged from the scabrous and misshapen skull.

Opening his telepathic powers, Lord Grack decided for himself the nature of its reply.

I am your loyal slave, come to serve you in abject humility.

"Skraa - so what? What good are ya?" Grack asked aloud.

My will shakes the earth, my voice commands the skies, my stench lays low a thousand armies, my bile drowns the ships and fleets of mortals.

The young hero spat, unimpressed. "Keep watch while I sleep."

And sleep he did. Sixty-three minutes, according to his ARchron. And no sooner had he opened his eyes than his slave climbed back down the hole and was gone.

Never one to forget his manners, even in the most trying of times, young Grack shouted his appreciation down after the being: "Vut. Fuck you very much." And chuckling quietly to himself at his genteel and rapier-sharp wit, he leaned back and contemplated the remainder of his afternoon.

16:15:00, Saturday, November 1st - My World, under Hammerpack turf
Grack

Something bit the young hero's hand, and with a curse he realized the sun had angled its way through a crack in the wall, extending an accursed tendril of heat in his direction. Well, there was certainly no need to stand for this! The fledgling deity simply toted his bag and dropped, Toy in hand, into His World. Moments later he had waded to one of his many familiar redoubts and made himself comfortable once more.

Calling Modesty and Chastity, he asked them who it was that had come in their place earlier, but their ignorance was even greater than in their last conversation. They could shed no light on the nature of the other being. Still they were almost charming enough not to face brutal consequence for their failings.

Almost.

Duty-bound to rule with merciful justice, Lord Grack backhanded Modesty across her diminutive reptilian snout, sending her flying across a nearby pool of filth.

And his eyes widened in surprise. After his minions' failure to kill one of the boy-lovers back at the new building, he had assumed they were intangible. He had, indeed, expected the blow to be a mere symbol of his regal displeasure.

What had changed? The riddle, of course, was child's play. He was in the Color World now, while the earlier intended victim had had no such capacity.

He quickly shifted out of the Color World, and commanded the girls to evidence themselves to him. They promptly did so, and were met with a vicious swipe - which, as expected, passed harmlessly through them, eliciting mocking titters.

Impertinent creatures! Without warning, our hero returned to the Color World and attacked, but this time his slaves were prepared and easily darted just out of reach, laughing once more. They apparently thought this some sort of game.

Well, they would soon be shown the truth. The young master leapt to his feet and launched a dizzying flurry of blows, but ever his quarry flitted just beyond his grasp. Finally, they floated out over the pool of excreta in search of safety, but with a blinding surge of speed he hurled himself at them, catching one in each fist by their throats.

They all erupted in laughter - this had indeed been amusing.

And then Grack glanced down to find his booted feet suspended several inches above the surface of the sewage. And over on the slimy cement shelf was his collapsed flesh. He was almost surprised, but not quite. This had already happened twice before, but both times at the behest of the Scintillating One. So, he could separate the spiritual from the carnal at will.

And so it was that the young lord spent the next couple of hours frolicking with his new companions, chasing up and down the corridors of His World, filling the dark passages with mirth and merrymaking. Several times, he felt the need to return to his earthbound cocoon for a short rest...and each time he found his face covered in tears - tears of pure joy.

Gazing up at the bouncing forms of Modesty and Chastity, eager for more play, he realized with an indescribable joy that for the first time in his life, someone really loved him.

He would probably have to kill everyone else.

15:55:07 Saturday, 01 November 2070 – Temporary Gang HQ: Apartment Building behind The Corner Pocket
Legion

Legion waited until Nevada had stepped through the front door, out onto the cement stoop, before retrieving the wad of money she'd tossed on the stairs. Rummaging through the bags that she and Felix had brought, he pulled out one of the styrofoam takeout containers within and began eating. The rest would keep until the other Ravens returned, but there were some perks to being lead wolf. Silence ruled the main room for some minutes. Legion glanced over at the young mage.

"Siddown, kid, you look like you're about to pass out."

Wordlessly, Felix sank into one of the lesser broken chairs that littered the room. He didn't seem any more comfortable, though, fidgeting around a bit trying to figure out what to do with his arms. Legion smiled around a mouthful of food, nodding towards the front door where Nevada's shadow was still visible.

"She's a fiery one. Probably why I like her so much. Maybe that and the fine ass she has."

He took another bite.

"What do you think, kid, should we hang here or head back to the old Hammerpack turf? An alliance with the Tommie and Frosty might be enough to keep ol' Al and the Nation off our backs for a little while, but I doubt it. But Tommie was right. I tried to bluff him with Doc being our drug pipeline, but now that he's out of the picture we're going to be hurtin' for an economic base. Might be smarter to return to mid-Kingsgate, start up insurgency ops, see if we can bleed some people down to where we can start recruiting. Maybe go back to smash and grab finance. But that's a problem, too. Stir up too much trouble up there and we'll have Nation, Plague, and the UV Knights on our hands. And the alliance won't mean drek if those three are cranked up to roll."

Legion chewed thoughtfully.

"I don't know, kid. Too many variables and not enough equations. I guess we'll just have to wait and see what the boys bring back from up north and what Tommie and Frosty say."

Sometime early afternoon, Saturday, November 1st
Baby

Baby tugged at the bonds. Her wrists were raw and bloody. Some of it was old and dry, but most was fresh, staining crimson the makeshift restraints Cram and his crew had used to tie her to the soiled bed. She fought against the bonds with every ounce of her small frame. Honestly she hadn’t expected to be alive at this point, but something inside wouldn’t let her give up. She tried hard not to think about what had happened to her, doing so made her sick to her stomach, but how could she not. All she had to do was open her eyes and look. Dried blood caked her lips and mouth where she had bitten herself to keep from screaming and she could feel more on the inside of her thighs too. Her left side was one large mass of yellow and purple were her ribs had been cracked and there were bite marks and contusions on her back, thighs, and breasts. Still she tried to escape. Even though she wasn’t she what too. Sometime the day before Cram had arrived to gloat about the explosion at the 8-Ball’s warehouse. He had wanted her to know that no one was going to come looking for her. She was alone and that hurt almost as much as what they had done. She had near lost hope then…

Again she tugged with her left arm and her hand slipped farther from the binding. The constant attempts and the slick blood seemed to be working. Each tug brought more pain from her wrist and her side, but it was progress. She worked quickly now, twisting and turning her raw wrist. She ignored the pain. Her heart beat faster and faster as centimeter by centimeter her hand slipped towards freedom. Baby rolled as far to the right as she could, to put constant pressure on the bond and with a slick pop her hand slid free. The sudden release jarred her body enough that she sucked in sharply at the pain. Her breathing had been necessarily shallow. Deep breaths were agonizing for her. She tried to pushed away the pain and rolled over to began working at the other restraint with her free hand.

**BANG!**

A door in the other room slammed open, causing Baby to freeze in fear. ‘No, not now.’ She was sooooo close.

“Oh Jesus, Oh Jesus,. My leg. My fraggin’ leg.� She heard panic in a man’s voice.

“Shut the frag up, Link!� Cram’s shout carried his every present malice.

“Jesus…Toss him a fraggin patch Cram. It’ll shut him the hell up at least.� The voice belonged to Jaze, Cram’s girlfriend. She enjoyed watching him inflict pain almost as much as she enjoyed doing it herself. The bite marks on Baby’s body were a testament to that.

“We can lie low here for a while till the shit blows over….Come on baby, we got plenty of snacks and a few bottles in the fridge…maybe our little plaything has a few breaths left in her. Sooner we patch Link up, the sooner we can go enjoy ourselves.�

“Fine, here.� Cram’s voice carried no sympathy for his boy.

The sound of someone rustling around just outside the open door to the room she lay in, caused Baby to roll onto her back and tucked her free arm behind the mattress to hide it. Her fingers grasped the cloth that had until a few minutes ago held her arm outstretched. She closed her eyes and held her body very still, barely breathing…

“You fix him up. Don’t take too long or there won’t be anything left for you to play with.� He growled.

Baby turned her face away from the door. She didn’t want to see him, too scared that the sight of him would make her panic. She tried to think of something, anything to help her escape. She had to stay calm and patient, wait for an opportunity.

She could hear him undressing at the side of the bed, dropping his clothes and gear to the floor just below the mattress. It was a trick he played on her once before and she had fallen for it. Before the BF’ers had tied her to the bed she had made a lunge for the weapon that Cram had “dropped.“ It had seemed so close to her reach, but Cram’s reflexes are wired and he had been ready for the move. She had been beaten badly for her efforts.

Once again she watched the large barreled Roomsweeper drop so close to her that it hit the side of the bed, before dropping to the floor next to it. She could still see the grip sticking up over the edge of the mattress. Baby felt the orc’s eyes admiring her, but she didn’t move. Even a twitch and he would be all over her and she knew she couldn’t take another beating. This time she didn’t fight or struggle or even move as he slithered on top of her. She could feel his metal capped tusks slide across her stomach towards her chest. They dug into her flesh, leaving red scratches as they went…still she didn’t move. Not even when he pushed her thighs apart did she give any resistance. The only indication that she was still alive was her shallow breath and a disgusted shudder she gave when he violated her again. It was hard not to be ill. His body rocked back and forth, its violence grew as his excitement did. First was the rough pawing , then the scratching and as he neared climax he bit down on her right breast hard enough to bring tears to her eyes. She pressed her lids shut against the pain as a tear rolled down her cheek.

‘Just a little longer' she thought and waited for his body to spasm. It wasn’t long. She opened her eyes and watched the orc’s ugly ass face look up towards the ceiling, lost in orgasmic pleasure. This was it. Baby slid her free hand down the side of the mattress until her fingers touched cold steel. She felt her way to the grip and closed her hand around it, bringing the gun up smoothly and placing the barrel under his chin. As his body jerked one last time she pulled the trigger.

The force of the slug sprayed blood and bone and brains across the ceiling above. His mostly headless body slumped on to her, covering her upper body in gore. She kicked his body out and away from her, but he was heavy and she still had one arm tied.

“Cram?!?�

Baby heard Jaze’s suprised voice from outside the door. She braced the pistol grip against the bed and used the extra leverage to pump another shell into the chamber before leveling it at the door.

“If you ganked that slitch before I got my turn I’m gonna….�

Jaze stormed into the room, her voice sounded agitated. The human girl was almost as ugly as the dead orc that lay across Baby’s body. The Brute Force Inc. ganger stared in shock at the dead body of her boyfriend. She didn’t even see the gun leveled at her chest. Baby squeezed the trigger again, just like Fargas had shown her and the big gun bucked, slamming the stunned Jaze against the wall and caving in her chest. She slumped to the floor leaving behind a trail of blood. Baby’s ears rang from the concussive force of the gun fire and the small room became hazy with smoke. She kept the gun pointed at the door, but heard nothing from the other room. Minutes went by…still nothing. She set the gun down next to her on the mattress and felt around off the bed until she could grasp the denim of Cram’s discarded pants. She was hoping to find something of use and thankfully, like any good ganger, he had been carrying a knife. She cut herself free from the bond that still held her right wrist and finally rolled Cram’s naked body off of her. She pushed herself up from the mattress slowly, her adrenaline masking some of the pain.

Baby wanted to cover herself more than anything, but she knew there was still someone else in the house. Her body was stiff and sore from the injuries and the captivity, but she crept to the door as quietly as she could. She could hear someone’s labored, but even breathing. They didn’t seem to be trying to hide there presence. She waited, but there was no change, so she risked a glance into the other room.

The room was a mess, little better than a crack house really. A couple of moldy couches, an old trid and a fridge back where a kitchen used to be. The couch was occupied, but the wiry ganger who occupied it was in no shape to do anything. His left leg was in bad shape and crudely bandaged. They were already soaked through with his blood. Apparently Jaze had not only tranq’d the shit out of him, but shot him up with something heavy to kill the pain. Baby Causiously entered the room and walked slowly towards the man on the couch, holding her side as she limped. She raised the Roomsweeper and placed the barrel against the gangers forehead. He gazed droopy-eyed up at her. A slack look to his face. It was very different from the sadistic joy it had shown when he had raped her with the rest of Cram’s crew. It wasn’t revenge or justice when Baby pulled the trigger. It was murder, plain and simple and she couldn’t bring herself to care.

She felt cold. Not just her skin, but deep down. She was free, but for what. How could she face her friends? Her Sister? If they were even still alive. The thoughts crashed in on her, buckling her knees and she collapsed to the floor in tears. Every time she heaved a sob it was like a knife wound in her side and her stomach, a reminder of the shame and horror she had been through. She wasn’t sure she wanted to live. It would be so easy, she thought cradling the gun in her hands as she knelt naked and broken on the floor.

‘So easy.’

Her hand shook as she brought the gun slowly to her mouth, but she gagged at the feeling. Her stomach heaved, but there was nothing left to come up that hadn’t the night before. She just heaved and heaved until some stomach fluid finally came and she couldn’t heave any more. She placed the gun to her temple this time and stared off towards the door where Jaze’s body still lay. The girl was wearing Baby’s cargo pants and her jacket. She hadn’t noticed before. Cram must have given them to her like they were some kind of fraggin’ trophy. An unreasoning hatred filled her.

The bitch was wearing her clothes.

Without thinking she strode, gun in hand, through the doorway and kicked the dead girl as hard as she could. She kicked and kicked until the girl’s body slid onto its’ side, but she didn’t stop. She landed blow after blow to the head and face until she kicked herself out and sat back onto the bed with tears streaming down her face. When she was able to pull her self together enough to see through the tears she went to work pulling her pants and jacket off of the dead girl body.

The pants were wet around the waist where Jaze’s blood had soaked them through and there was a nice sized hole in the back of her jacket that would need to be patched, but she didn’t care. For some reason she was alive and if she was, maybe her sister and some of her friends were too. She didn’t know how she could face them, but she wasn’t going to die in this shit hole, she was suddenly damn fraggin’ sure of that.

Baby no longer had a shirt, so she zipped the bloody jacket completely closed to cover herself. Thankfully her shock gloves were still in its pockets. She searched the house for anything of value and found enough to give her some hope. The gangers were loaded up. She kept Cram’s Roomsweeper in her hand and placed Link’s Colt America and there respective ammunition in the top pouches of HER cargo’s. She shoved the knife in her back pocket and took a set of keys she found in Cram’s pants. She hoped like hell there was something she could drive outside. She found two smoke grenades and a couple of flash bangs in what was left of [/b]Link[/b] too. Not a bad haul. The only other items of value were two bottles of some kind of shine, probably homemade and likely laced with something. She placed one in each into a backpack…actually her backpack. The one she had used to smuggle the nova coke to the Lotus just a couple of nights ago. The BF’ers must have discarded it when they brought her in.

She knew she had to leave. The rest of Cram’s crew would be back soon, if they were still alive and Baby had to be gone. She ducked out the door, which lead to an alley. Behind the dumpster was a sight that almost made her cry. Cram had jacked a Mirage. It looked pretty scuffed up, but if he got it here, maybe she could get out. She stored the bottles of booze, the Roomsweeper and the extra ammunition she had found in the compartment under the seat and gingerly straddled the small but lightning quick bike. It had been a while since she had ridden one, but it was one of those things that you don‘t forget. She rocked it off of its stand and pushed it towards the end of the alley. If she could just get her bearings, she might make it.

??:??:?? Saturday?, November 1, 2070 - Losskey & Destry Clinic, Just off 124th Ave NE, near NE 145th St
Fool

Sitting up so fast had been a mistake, looking down he could see the bullethole in his stomach with the blood leaking out of it. Any movement he made to relieve some of the pain only made the stab wound in his back hurt..BAD. By the time knife guy had stabbed him his body was already flooding his body with endorphins and adrenalin and blocking pain sensations but he felt every inch of the knife slide into his back and then slide back out. It must have missed his spine if he was able to sit up but he didnt have any clue what the blade might have cut on the inside. If he didnt have dermal plating he would have probably been gutted. He couldnt help but feel like maybe that bad BTL trip he had experienced and subsequently caused him to get burnt and cut up was suppose to happen and the reason it was suppose to happen was to keep him from dieing on this day. The thought left his mind as quickly as it came though he was just could not concentrate and he was begining to panick.

Putting one hand over the bullethole in his gut he used then other to steady himself as he tried to stand up but his first effort nearly sent him crashing back down into the pavement the knife wound to his back causing him so much pain. Adrenalin kicked in again and as tears rolled down his face he made it to his feet. He could feel the gravel and bits of glass still stuck to his skin but he didnt care. He looked around to get his bearing and tried to pull the chronometer up in his field of vision of his cybereyes but his commlink was gone. Fool stumbled towards the gutted out SSR HQ and searched for anything he might use to cover up with. Everything was blackened and all the bodies were gone but he found a half burned piece of blue tarp laying on the ground. Reaching down to pick it up was a monumental task for Fool but he finally managed to grab it and wrap it around his shoulders. It only covered his shoulders and back was practically worthless protection against the cold but it was better than nothing.

Fool left the SSR HQ each step shooting pain up his spine forcing him to constantly adjust his posture to try and make it stop but it didnt help. His initial destination was to get back to the October Raven's. He remembered Ink trying to patch up Legion when they had first gathered but then he considered if the ganger would be able to handle the severity of his wounds or know jack or shit about treating somebody with cyber, his dermal plates would need to get patched up or replaced to as they had been punctured. His mind quickly raced through alternative options for care and then he mind locked in on the best option, Losers Destination. It was a clinic with two docs who were fairly skilled and gave gangers free health care. If he could make it there he would probably survive.

The problem was it was over 1500 meters from where he was and right smack dab middle in the whole of Kingsgate. The new October Raven HQ was directly in his path but he didnt want them to see him like this and he knew they didnt have any way of helping him get to the clinic. He kept heading back to the HQ but when he neared where it was he took a parallel street and went around it and kept on walking. Each step he took made him feel more and more exausted but the cold help keep him awake. Along the way he saw some Black Plaguers, some Ultra Violets, and as he neared the clinic some Raiders but they were only lookouts and although they spotted him between his bleeding wounds and whacked out appearence none of them considered him a threat, in fact he probably looked more like a ganger's victom than an actual ganger, which he was. If he wouldnt have been mostly naked he probably would have been jumped by all of them but there was no point in jacking somebody who had nothing. People had pointed and laughed, he had heard shouts of "What the fuck happened to you?" and "Hey wheres your clothes dumbass?" but he stumbled on.

Eventually, it had felt like a lifetime, he saw the street leading off the 124 AVE NE. As he rounded the last corner he could easily make out the dealers hanging out just in front of the entrance which offered a little protection against the cold. Seeing them notice him he felt like he was going to make it but he was coming down off his adrenalin and the cold was over taking him and he had probably lost to much blood. Fool became dizzy and he began to fall, as his hand that was holding the tarp let go it dropped away leaving him exposed and as he crashed into the pavement he couldnt help but close his eyes....

One of the dealers slowly walked into the interior of the clinic and a few minutes later some clinic workers were racing out the door and towards Fool with one of the doc's in tow behind a gourney. Fresh kills had valuable organs that could be saved. Checking Fool's pulse the Doc ordered the two orderly's to put him on the gourney. Pulling a syringe from his bag the Doc stabbed it into Fool chest and then they all rushed back into the clinic...