10:52:05 Saturday, 01 November 2070 – Temporary Gang HQ: Apartment Building behind The Corner Pocket
Grack

The AR message that had manifested itself across his field of vision had brought our young hero to an abrupt halt, a strangled "Vut!" of impatience and annoyance escaping his beautiful lips.

He was, as always, urgently hungry, and rather desirous for a drink as well. He first had ignored the message, intending to go out and acquire some food and hurlg for the Duke and himself and be back before the accursed rays of the sun laid a blight across Their World. Guard duty could wait - after all, the Scintillating One would not have told him to join a gang that was destined for destruction, so in one way of thinking, this new October Ravens organization was invincible no matter what he did. Still, that did not necessarily apply to individuals. And if there were going to be any sort of trouble, Lord Grack wanted a hand in who lived and who died.

In any case, he realized, he'd fed the last of his currency into the dispenser at the sushi establishment earlier in the evening. There was precious little prey on the streets at this hour, and it would take him hours to traverse His World to his cache of foodstuffs under the Hammerpack turf. He also recalled the primary reason he followed Master Legion - he'd never gone hungry fighting under the ujnort's flag. It was now time, he supposed, to see if that axiom still held, given the pale human's recent penchant for disloyalty and cowardice.

And so it was that he went back into the building and assumed his current post - a quick look around the once-glorious lobby had revealed a rotted-out section of wall high off the ground near the high ceiling. Climbing up, our protagonist had discovered an adequate redoubt amid some structural supports. He was out of the sun, virtually invisible from interlopers that might enter, could see both entrances, and none of the weaklings below could bother him.

Naturally, the mere thought of four hours' guard duty filled his heart with fatigue and boredom, but he soon lost himself in a reverie concerning his Legend, his destiny as lord and master of all he surveyed. And then, somewhere amid his visions of gutters running with synthahol and eating freshly broiled devil rat haunches off the nude bodies of earless whores, he imagined in his whimsy a coterie of tiny alligators - the Scintillating One in miniature, if you will - dancing about in the air for his pleasure. Well, no good reader already familiar with the Legend of Grack will be surprised to hear that yes, this was indeed that famous moment in which Modesty and Chastity first appeared to the young lord. Their diminutive reptilian forms glowed with a light that amply illuminated his dusty alcove. The two lit upon each of his knees and looked up at him longingly, jaws occasionally snapping with tiny clicks that he somehow could hear over his music.

By now, of course, nothing could surprise him, and he set his keen intellect to determining their origin and nature.

The first thing he'd noticed was that he'd unwittingly slipped into the Color World, and when he shifted his consciousness to the Realm of the Weaklings, his new companions left his view. He wished they would appear to him in this world to - and voila, they did! However, he quickly caused them to again limit their manifestation to the Color World - it would not do for the boy-lovers and ghoul-food below to see his new prizes. No, not one whit of weal would come of that. Not yet.

And so it was that over the ensuing hours he came to know his new slaves and their wondrous capabilities. When he willed it, they banished themselves. And then he called them back, and they came! Most gratifying was that they had the power of speech, and oh, how enlightening their conversation might have been were they not idiots in the most damning sense of the word! Upon the most severe of questioning, our hero found that they had no idea where they came from, why they were here, or what they could do. He did, of course, glean their names, and they certainly knew his. Indeed, they fawned over him most appropriately, eager to do his bidding in any way whatsoever.

He commanded them to kill one of the weaklings below in his sleep, and oh how they tried, darting and biting in a frenzy of microscopic violence. Unfortunately, their assault had no effect whatsoever, and their prey went on snoring peacefully.

Cursing their weakness, he next commanded them to fetch him some food. Here they met with failure, and yet the mission was a qualified success. For upon departing his presence, they each immediately located rich supplies of whatever delicacies their master imagined, sometimes traveling great distances instantly in order to do so. And while they proved woefully incapable of returning with even one paltry crumb or morsel, they most remarkably showed their master the very image of their environs! On a lark, he bade them locate Her - and so they did!

Well, one need not be a scholar of our lord's lore to know that his investigations stopped there, for he watched Her for the remainder of his friends' visit. And when they suddenly departed, he found that recalling them, like expanding his senses in search of foes, required a discouraging amount of effort.

And effort was, of course, one of the few things of which young Grack was ever in short supply.

And so it was that he spent the remaining hours of his duty gazing peacefully down upon his charges, basking in the warm glow of his ever-expanding powers.

11:00:00 Saturday, 01 November 2070 – Temporary Gang HQ: Apartment Building behind The Corner Pocket
Shade

It had been a tiring day. And it wasn't even noon yet. At once both weary from his recent excursions throughout Kingsgate and yet refreshed by the brief nap and subsequent meditation he'd managed to squeeze in, Shade blinked his eyes twice as he awoke.

Rising silently to his feet, he moved to a secluded area, careful not to wake any of the others. Sitting in his perch the ork named Grack noticed him, looking down on him from above. Shade nodded at the ork in a gesture of acknowledgment, but received only a disdainful stare in reply.

OK...we know who's not winning Mr. Congeniality in this bunch. No surprise there I guess.

Once in a quiet and isolated area, he moved through his morning exercises as he had for years, mixing in stretching and light calisthenics with the various martial arts forms. The slow, graceful movements calmed his heart and focused his mind as he prepared for what would likely be a grueling day ahead. The meeting with the Heartbreakers and Steel Demons loomed, and judging from yesterday's messengers, they did not have good intentions towards the new October Ravens.

Still, it was not his place to determine such matters. After he finished stretching, he went upstairs. Uncertain of where Legion was sleeping, and not wanting to either surprise his new leader or give him any reason to be suspicious, he stopped at the top of the stairs and called out, "Legion. It's 11:00:00. Do you want me to wake the others?"

10:45:11 Saturday, 01 November 2070 – Temporary Gang HQ: Apartment Building behind The Corner Pocket
Legion

The relentless paging of his commlink drew him from sleep, and Legion groaned, stretching cramped muscles. His joints were full of rust, and the hollowness in his stomach testified to the length of time between meals. He needed food and water, badly, especially if he was going to survive going out into the daylight. God how he hated the sunlight.

He fished around in his pockets before coming out with his tube of sunblock and a tab of gum, which he chewed gratefully. The sweetness erased the filth of his breath, and it brought some spit to his dry mouth. He stretched and rolled his muscles, careful of the wound in his side, although it seemed to be healing quite nicely. Picking up the sheathe from by the door in his left hand, with his sword in his right, he ran through the angles once, then again. Better, he thought.

Setting his weapon down, he commenced with smearing the SPF 75 protection all over his exposed skin, paying special attention to his face and the back of his neck. Why do people insist on holding meetings at such godawful hours of the day? What the frag was wrong with midnight?

Finished, he runs hands still greasy with the stuff through his hair, reforming it into something resembling neatness. A voice called for him from close by. He picked up his sword and stepped out into the hall, finding Shade at the top of the stairs.

"Roust 'em out. Meet me down in the main room."

11:05:00 Saturday, 01 November 2070 – Temporary Gang HQ: Apartment Building behind The Corner Pocket
Shade

Shade nods in acknowledgment of Legion's instructions. "They will be ready in five minutes." He kneels and places some food, water, a pack of smokes and a lighter at the top of the stairs. "I thought you could use this."

Without another word, he turns and heads down the stairs. Once downstairs, he wakes up Felix and asks him to start organizing the supplies from their earlier food run for easy distribution. He then asks Ink to check on the wounded and start waking up the others, and to spread the word they have a meeting in five minutes.

Letting Nevada zone out a little longer, he starts carrying some food and water over to Grack, still perched in his lookout. Thinking twice, he grabs some of the synthahol they bought 'for morale' too, and brings it over to Grack, who looks at him disdainfully. Again.

Ignoring the ork's glare, he reaches up and places up items within easy reach. "Here you go Grack. Thanks for keeping watch. Legion's coming down in five minutes, and we've got a meeting." The ork doesn't say anything, and Shade can't tell if it's because he can't hear him due to his headphones blasting or if Grack is just ignoring him like he's been doing.

Shrugging, he turns and heads back over to the group, noting with satisfaction Felix has laid out the food and water in two big piles, but kept the smokes and synthahol behind him, rationing it out to ensure everyone gets some. The young mentalist was also smart enough to sit by Aziz and Bockscar, just in case someone tried bullying him to get more than their fair share.

Most of the group is slowly coming to their feet and hungrily munching on the assorted food and water by now, so Shade grabs some for Nevada and walks over to her. He places the food down next to her as she turns towards him, blinking as she comes out of whatever spaced out place she was mentally, if not physically, resting in. She mutters something that sounds like 'thank you' in response.

Finally, he heads over to Aziz and Felix and sits down, leaning against the wall. He begins to eat as he joins the others in waiting for their leader.

11:05:01 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Temporary Gang HQ, Apartment Building behind The Corner Pocket
Thumper

He was moving almost before the sound had died down. Thumper was unaware of how he could have missed the distinctive aluminum clink and soy flavored slosh when Nevada had walked back in, but he was ready for it now.

Had he not been as experienced a fighter his wires might have carried him barreling into the tacit, but probably badass, Shade and the bottle he was offering to Grack. (Thumper didn't know if Shade was a badass, but Legion seemed to view him as an enforcer of some kind, which counted for a lot in Thumper's eyes.) However, his keenly honed instincts and impossibly enhanced reflexes carried him swiftly and almost noiselessly from his shallow sleep to the food stash, nearly knocking over Felix in the process.

Only after he had a beer in each hand did he smile at the tiny mage and say "Sorry for bumping you man, I've had a long night." Thinking as he opened the first with an unconscious motion of his right hand, he proffered the other beer with his left saying "You a morning person?" He was taking a swig even while waiting for a response.

11:05:02 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Temporary Gang HQ, Apartment Building behind The Corner Pocket
Grack

Artillery-like bass massaging his noble eardrums, Our Hero watched as the hive of insects below him roused itself to life. Worker ants, led of course by the Queen, had marched in bearing food and drink. At least Master Legion was still good for one thing. Appropriately, one of the zombie-snacks had quickly come over with an offering, which he meekly placed at the Lord's booted feet.

He spoke as well, which always amused Young Grack, as it should be apparent to even the most sluggish of minds that he could not hear them. He watched the propitiant's lips move and realized that his newfound gifts included the ability to read the thoughts of his lessers!

Oh, how the Scintillating One had blessed him! But then, who more worthy?

It took only slight concentration to discern the thoughts - Grant that I may bask in your radiance, and I shall offer my soul at the altar of your magnificence.

Grack was impressed that this one knew its place. He might even have deigned to respond had it not been from the boy-lover eth.

Indeed, his entire being was filled with revulsion at what he saw next. Incredible as it sounds, they had actually made the very object of the boy-lovers' desire - verily the weakest among the weak - as the guardian of the tobacco and hurlg! Surely he would soon be killed! Ah, but no, those with the most urgent desires for his prepubescent services had banded around him, hoping to curry willing favors in exchange for protection.

At this sight, Our Hero was filled with disdain such as he had never felt in his short but glorious life...but what?!?! Could his eyes be deceiving him? Had his recent brushes with godhood caused some sort of fell hallucination? Could it be that he was really seeing The Duke of Drink himself lining up for the services of the beardless one?

This development would necessitate further observation....

11:05:03 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Temporary Gang HQ, Apartment Building behind The Corner Pocket
Fool

Fool awoke to the sounds of people moving around and food packages being opened and people greeting one another. He had been down for a few hours and although it wasnt enough for a full nights sleep it was enough to begin the new day although he would more than likely be crashing early tonight. Hopefully they would be getting alot done today and things could go back to something more normal.

Fool sat up stretched a little to get the kinks out from having to sleep on the floor and then walked over and grabbed some food and water from the piles and then sat down next to Thumper and Felix. "Frag me, I havent been up this early in ages.". As he looked around at the others he spotted the freak up in a section of a wall staring at them all with who knows what going through his mind. It sent a shiver up his spine but Fool had been in lots of fights and he knew he could defend himself from Grack if he ever had to.

He leaned back and finished his food and water and thought about what Child and himself had been tasked to do today and what that would entail. He didnt have any real experience riding bikes but he had played enough virtual games and knew enough about how the different controls worked to where he should crash to much. But first they were going to have a meeting and then Legion was going to go meet with the heads of the Steel Demons and The Heartbreakers. He was mad Legion didnt except his offer of help but whatever, he guessed just because they were rolling together doesnt mean you give new people all your trust. He might have done the same.

11:10:52 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Temporary Gang HQ, Apartment Building behind The Corner Pocket
Legion

Nodding his thanks to Shade, he scooped the smokes into his pocket before slurping down half the water in the bottle. The soy protein bar was next, something which purported to be cranberry/raisin flavored but with the consistency of pressed sawdust. It was gone in three bites. Sitting halfway down the stairs, he watched as his gang came awake from their naps, parceling out the food and water, and alcohol he noted with wry satisfaction. Good, people need to loosen up a little. If we can only keep the lid on for just another day or two. I can probably guess what Tin Hat wants to talk about, but Frosty is another question entirely.

"Anybody got any intel on how the Heartbreakers are doing? They come through the war ok?"

11:11:02 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Temporary Gang HQ, Apartment Building behind The Corner Pocket

Ink

"Doubt it hefe" Said the Cubano muching his way through a protein bar. "They were working with the Plague rats toward the end. Sides, they got mucho problemas with the 162's on their one side. They piss off the thinkers and Ice Bitch and her crew are lunch."

Unspoken was And they geeked a bunch of 'manos they stll need to pay for.

"Good news is most of the muchachos are healin' up nice and steady. You wanna roll that way we can do it in a day or so tops."

11:11:19 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Temporary Gang HQ, Apartment Building behind The Corner Pocket
Legion

Legion laughed, drinking from his water bottle again.

"I like where your head's at, Ink, but let's not get hasty. We'll see what Frosty has to say and whether or not she's willing to deal. If not, then we can think about some strong arm tactics."

He glanced up as Shade started down the stairs, followed by Doc. Thumper was already on the ground floor, double fisting the 'morale'. Legion grinned.

Well, the liquid morale at least.

A scowl replaced the manic expression of a moment earlier, though, as he once more contemplated going out during the daytime.

High fraggin' noon.

He glanced over at Aziz and Bockscar.

"Leave five minutes after us and run parallel. Stash yourselves close enough that you can get in quick if we have a disagreement. If I brush my right leg like this," Legion swiped his hand against the knee of his cargo pants as if he were brushing away dust, "it means there's gonna be blood. Give a three count then come running. Clear?"

Nods all around. He sighed. God he hated the sunlight.

"All right, let's do this thing."

11:11:22 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Temporary Gang HQ, Apartment Building behind The Corner Pocket
Grack

Carefully observing the interaction between the boy-lovers, the boy, and the Duke, our young protagonist had searched arduously for some confirmation that his cerri's communications were innocent of the sort of unnatural inclinations obviously held by so many of Legion's new organization.

Cleverly shifting his perceptions to the Color World, the tableau had changed dramatically - it was clear there was much to be learned from the swirl of hues and shades that surrounded those below - and yet he could not as yet make heads nor tails of the meanings of the patterns. One thing was clear, however - much to his surprise, the boy's nimbus was alarmingly unstable. Could that be the secret to the sexual sway he held over the rest of the chud-feed?

In the end, he had decided that he had been wrong to doubt the purity of the Duke. Faith - a loving hope in things not seen but felt in the heart - there was no doubt it was one of our hero's multitude of virtues, and he knew it well. He would have Faith in Duke Thumper, dread warrior and minister of libations.

Which brings us, reader, to the present. It suddenly appeared, as the young lord watched from his vantage point, that Master Legion was leading some sort of war party out into the sunlight - an uncharacteristic maneuver indeed. Well, better them than him, our hero thought with a yawn.

After taking one more swig from the still half-full bottle of synthhurlg his worshipper had proffered him a few minutes earlier, he tossed it down to the Duke, flashing him the hand sign of the Hammerpack.

11:11:36 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Temporary Gang HQ, Apartment Building behind The Corner Pocket
Aziz

Aziz nods after he gets the orders from Legion

"Understood." He finishes his instant noodles, and stands up.

Hey... I feel pretty good for someone who got chewed up not too long ago...

He straps on his sword, and slings the messenger bag over his shoulder, looking inside to check on his SMG.

"Ready when you are, Bockscar..."

11:11:25 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Temporary Gang HQ, Apartment Building behind The Corner Pocket
Thumper

The kid had shied away from him -- that wasn't unexpected, he shied away from just about everything and Thumper wasn't exactly the friendliest stranger the kid had run into this morning.

He snorted in response to Fool's quip while the addict sidled up to the food. He pocketed the beer he proffered to Felix and one more before turning toward Legion and the main work of the morning only to be surprised by a bottle flying towards his head. A reflexive snatch later, he was again double fisting the beverages as Grack flashed him his own gang sign, not whatever crap was going to be adopted by the Ravens.

He responded by lifting the glasses in a toast as he walked to the door. <<@Grack: Skraa - fucking - cha. Any luck I'll get to knock some skulls this morning, live some fucking djoto. Catch you when I get back.>>

It was only the best friends who hurled bottles at your forehead.

11:11:30 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Temporary Gang HQ, Apartment Building behind The Corner Pocket
Felix

When everyone had decided to catch some shut eye, Felix thought he could never go through the rest of the night. His mind was racing a thousand miles per hour, stretched in all directions and thinned over. But his body apparently had something else in store for him. Sitting down not far from Aziz, settling himself as comfortably as he could in a little darkened nook of the lobby, Felix fell asleep almost immediately. He had spent all day pushing further and further all the ache his body felt, ignoring his lack of energy and pushing himself as far as he could.... until he had completely forgotten about how tired he actually felt.

Contrary to most of his nights, Felix didn't dream. No pretty dreams of happy endings and riding off into the sun set. No dreams of Halo. No dreams of the 410 Crash. No nightmare either...

When Shade's rough hand shook his shoulder, Felix immediately came awake, as if someone had ducked a bucket of cold water in his face. Shivering slightly under his beaten up hoody, Felix pulled his breathing mask up unto his mouth, taking a few morning breaths as he rubbed his puffy eyes. When his friend asked him to organize what supplies they had gathered, the litte mage nodded a few time as he stretched long and hard.

Cautiously, the young mentalist started sifting through all the food and water that had been brought, making neatly organized and categorized little piles; dividing everything into what he thought were decent rations... and taking care to make slightly bigger ones for the bigger guys.

A beaming large smile of satisfaction hidden behind his breathing mask, Felix barely had the time to duck aside when he turned around to meet the canonball moving toward him. Thumper might have been massive, he probably moved faster than most people Felix had ever seen. Once again, his tiny size did have it's advantages. When it came down to it, if he made himself in a little ball, odds were things would miss him. He had barely stood back up rubbing painfully an elbow that would probably be blue and bruised in a few minutes when Thumper's booming voice came to his ears.

“That's fine...� simply said Felix sheepishly in answer to Thumper's form of an apology. Truth was, he didn't mind being pushed around too much... he somehow believed that his new gangmember hadn't done it on purpose.

As he offered him a beer, the mage couldn't help himself but giggle lightly under his breathing mask.

“It's a very kind offer, but I'll have to decline.� he said, twisting his neck a bit to look at Thumper towering over him.

Hearing the shuffle of feet close by behind him, Felix threw over a look over his scrawny shoulder. Altough Fool couldn't see it, the young mage smiled as he saw him approach. He reached for some food, handing it to him as he got closer.

“The day is for those who get up early� started the tiny mage, nodding to Fool as he handed him some food.

Felix slightly depressed mood from yesterday had thinned away with the night's rest. He didn't really know most of the other street kids that were starting to awaken in the room, but he could already tell he liked most of them. Bockscar was a bit rough, but he wasn't malicious in any way. Just cautious. Thumper and Fool were looking like very stand up guys. At least, neither of them had made fun of him yet. Felix was about to add something to the little seed of conversation that Fool had planted when Legion came down. Suddenly, Felix's outgoingness disappeared. Seeing the gang leader's silhouette walking down the stairs made a big ball of anxiety clog the mage's throat.

In a matter of seconds, Legion had already barked his orders and everyone was stirring up for their tasks. The Crash never had a real leader of any sort.... It had always been more of a free for all, 24/7... Which might have been one of the reason they had gone down so hard. Because of that dynamic, Felix had simply always tagged along with his friends. But this was different... Legion saw a purpose and a duty to everyone. Everyone knew their respective roles. Everyone except Felix.

Part of him was glad Legion was either ignoring him or had forgotten he was there (most people usually did). It meant he didn't have to talk to him.
But another part felt totally useless... like he was letting Halo down by not doing anything constructive.

As Legion passed him, Felix took a tiny step forward, timidly clearing his throat to try to get some attention. Timidly, he raised one hand slightly in front of him, almost as if he was asking a question in class.

“I.... I'm sorry.... but... but...� he started unsure of what he actually wanted to say.

Nervously, he pointed to himself.

“What do I do?�

11:11:52 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Temporary Gang HQ, Apartment Building behind The Corner Pocket
Legion

Pausing with his hand on the door, Legion glances back at the thin ganger, eyeing him up and down. His smile was friendly enough, unless you looked into his eyes.

"Well, friend, why don't you start by telling me what you can do?"

11:11:56 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Temporary Gang HQ, Apartment Building behind The Corner Pocket
Felix

The little wiz kid swallowed hard. Very hard. He was suddently feeling even tinier in his own shoes. If it had been possible, he would have gone back in time and stopped himself for saying anything. But now that he had begun, there was no way in hell he could back out.

"I... hmmm... well.... I...." he started to stutter, trying his best to come up with something.

"Truth of the matter is, I can't really do that much... I guess I... well.. I can hear and see things others don't."

Nervously, he started playing with the sleeve of his shirt. His eyes fell to the floor.

"I understand how people really are... even if they might not..."

For a few seconds, Felix felt silent. His pitch about trying to sell himself were making him sound totaly useless; a big fat weight the newly formed gang would have to carry around. A leech. The little mage took a deep breath, trying to steel his nerves. His eyes started slowly up until they met Legion's.

"I can protect your mind. I can protect you from things not of this world."

Again, the young mage swallowed hard and did his best not to start shaking.

11:12:19 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Temporary Gang HQ, Apartment Building behind The Corner Pocket
Legion

Legion waited patiently while the young ganger stammered out an explanation before glancing at Thumper. The heavyset ork shrugged as if to say One more couldn't hurt. Legion nodded in response.

"Roll with Bockscar and Aziz. Keep us covered using your mojo. Don't do anything to arouse suspicion until I give the signal, clear?"

He glanced around once more at his gathered soldiers before stepping out into the noontime sunlight. It was like a sledgehammer blow, and only the forward cant of his body kept him from staggering. Clearing the street, he moved off at a brisk pace. The sooner they got to the meet, the sooner he could find some shade.

God I hate the sunlight.

12:00:00 - The burned out old Soybucks at the intersection of 124th Ave NE and NE 132nd St
Legion, Doc, Thumper, Shade, Aziz, Bockscar, Felix

We approached the burned out old Soybucks in two teams, in accordance with Legion’s instructions. I was packing the heat, and I know the others were too. It made me jumpy, to tell you the truth. All it would take was one comment, one person doing the wrong thing at the wrong time, and this place could turn into a mini-bloodbath all on its own. Given the state of affairs around here the past month, that didn’t exactly seem like a farfetched scenario.

The walk was quiet enough, although it seemed like the others, especially Legion, weren’t particularly comfortable with the sunlight. Probably part of the whole ‘nocturnal predator’ thing people make gangs out to be. They probably didn’t get out much during the day.

When we got there, I saw the other two gangs had picked a good spot for the meet. The building was in a fairly wide open area, most of the surrounding buildings around it burned down to some degree or another. That made it tough to hide, which decreased the chances of there being an ambush. Of course, it also meant our backup would take longer to get there if things went bad, and we’d be out numbered eight to four at the beginning, which was never a good thing. Then again, we were bringing backup and trusting them to hide somewhere, so it was a good bet the others were too. Well at least it looked like they were trying to pick a place that didn’t scream out for an ambush. That was something, right? Right?

Whatever. It didn’t matter. The boss said we had to go, so we were going. We were too small and vulnerable to ignore diplomatic relations with the gangs around us, so here we were.

As we broke from the farthest line of buildings that provided any concealment into the open, crossing a broken parking lot to the Soybucks, we saw two other groups leave their places of concealment at the same time, heading towards the meeting spot.

They checked us out. We checked them out. Legion’s face never changed expression.

The others clearly didn’t feel that way. “Interesting…� Thumper muttered under his breath.

“What?� I asked him. More information was never a bad thing, and it was clear he had some thoughts.

“See them Demons? The big troll in the middle’s Tin Hat Tommie, the two trolls flanking him are Jimbo and Rex. The short dwarf with ‘em is Fatso.� He says it like that should be explanation enough. Maybe for him, but I need clarification.

“So? He’s got muscle backing him up; the dwarf’s probably his advisor or something. Seems normal to me.�

“It ain’t who’s with ‘em stupid. It’s who’s not with ‘em that’s what’s interesting,� Doc snapped at me.

I probably had a blank look on my face; I had no idea what these guys were talking about. I didn’t get over to Steel Demon turf very often.

“What he means is Born Again Christie ain’t here. And Fatso is. That means Tommie actually wants to negotiate, not brawl. If that psycho bitch were here, odds would be damn good this thing ends in blood before it’s all over,� Thumper explains.

Doc hocks and spits on the ground. “Yeah, but how much you wanna bet she’s out there somewhere?� He gestures to the surrounding area with his head.

Thumper nods. “But she’s not at the meeting. And that’s a good fucking sign, as far as I’m concerned.�

The trio turns their attention to the other group coming from the east. Thumper scans the four women walking towards them, and says, “Hey Doc, you see Christmas anywhere?�

“I see…� the troll starts ticking off the women, “Frosty, Valentina, Wendy, and Dominque…

The two look at each other in unison. “Fuck.�

I figured I’d better ask, but I was pretty sure I wouldn’t like the answer. “Uh, who or what is Christmas?�

This time it’s Doc who answers. “Their wizworm. Creepy fucking bitch. You never know where the fuck she’ll show up, ready to cut your throat.�

“How do you know she’s here?� Stupid question maybe, but I’d rather know and stay breathing that have to start calculating my moves based on assumptions.

“The five of them are the Heartbreakers leadership. Frosty runs the show and other four are her lieutenants. If those four are here, she’s running backup. Somewhere.�

“Isn’t it a good sign we’ve got so many higher ups here?� I can’t help but ask.

“How do you figure?� Thumper answers my question with a question.

“Well…wouldn’t they be less likely to try something with all their top dogs here? If they send in their heavy hitters to ambush us it just makes it more likely their leaders will get killed too.�

Doc laughs, or maybe a short, barking snort of disdain might a better way to put it. “Jesus kid, you’re fucking green. This is Kingsgate in the fucking Barrens. People don’t think like that around here. Maybe all that tactics or diplomacy shit might apply somewhere else, but here, all the lieutenants ARE each gang’s heavy hitters. Having this many of them in one place makes it more likely things will go bad. Every single person here got where they are over the bodies of who the fuck knows how many people, and I guaran-damn-tee not one of em’ would think twice about adding to the count if necessary.�

Thumper snorts. “Hell, some of ‘em would do it just for fun. Or cause they’re bored. Or who the fuck knows why.�

They’re both silent for a moment.

“Born Again Christie.� That was Thumper.

“Christmas.� That was Doc.

“Grack.� That was both of them.

We keep walking, closing the distance.

I want to ask why Grack isn’t here and I am, but I already know the answer. I also know asking the question will make me look weak. I’m here because Legion thinks I should be. And that means I can’t fuck it up. Like I said before, I try to avoid swearing, but the gravity of my new situation was starting to sink in.

Right then, it hits me, I’m not playing in the local neighborhood kids association anymore. I can't pretend we're just a group of friends, and not one of those big bad street gangs that prey on others. In some ways, I'm starting to wonder what sets me apart from any of the other killers gathering right now. I mean, I just went with Nevada to sell the other girls' bodies for sex, something that never would have happened in our old crew. I didn't even think twice about it.

Now I'm going into the lion's den, and I'm ready to kill anyone and everyone not on our side to get out if I have to. Forget talking; I know if the drek hits the fan the wires will be going full throttle, the spurs will be slicing and dicing, and any corpses I leave behind me are just an unfortunate but necessary byproduct of us getting out alive. So what makes me any different from anyone else here?

I don't like where my train of thought is going, so I shut it out and make a mental note to deal with it later. I’m in the big leagues now, and that means I need to act the part. Whether I like it or not. At the moment, I’m suddenly really, really glad Aziz and Felix are out there somewhere right now, watching my back.

We’re silent the rest of the way. At least I know who’s who now. That’s never a bad thing. The building has three entrances. I wonder if that’s a coincidence. We enter separately, each group through their own entrance. I double and triple check to make sure the wires are on, and subtly adjust my gun to make it easier to draw. You know, just in case.

Once everyone’s standing inside the Soybucks I swear the place feels downright claustrophobic, even though there’s actually plenty of room inside. The three leaders step forward to the middle of the restaurant, the rest of us standing within earshot but keeping a respectful distance.

The Steel Demons are on the west side, Heartbreakers on the east, and us on the south. The north side of the building is where the counter and barista area used to be. Back when this place was still serving soykaf, and not holding meetings for a roomful of gangers.

Tommie drags a table to the center of the room, while Legion and Frosty grab chairs for the trio. I can’t help but notice they’re all being really obvious about having their weapons not pointed at anyone in particular. Good idea, let’s not get crazy here. The good thing is everyone else looks as tense as I feel. I get the feeling that despite Doc’s earlier comments, no one really wants things to get out of hand right now. At least that’s how I hope they feel.

While they’re getting set up, I take the opportunity to get a good look at Frosty and Tommie. Tommie’s pretty much what I’d expect, a huge, hulking troll who towers over everyone else, even over Jimbo and Rex, who aren’t exactly small themselves. I am a little surprised by how old he seems. Or maybe he just has a lot of wear from life on the streets of Kingsgate. This place will do that to you. As for Frosty, she was as good looking as rumor made her out to be. She had the body, she had the features, and even her white hair came across as sexy and exotic rather than making her look old. But her eyes…they were some of the coldest, hardest eyes I’d ever seen. If having Legion pick me as his backup to the meet was the first wakeup call that I was now in the big leagues, looking into Frosty’s eyes was the second.

Once the bosses are seated, Tommie starts talking. “You’re making a lot of people nervous by being here Legion. A lot of people.�

He glances around meaningfully. “You turfing up here, it’s going to bring heat. Heat we don’t need here, you scan?�

Frosty smoothly interjects, “We’ve talked, and Tommie and I both agree your presence will only draw Al Davis and Meltdown farther south than they’ve traditionally come. And that isn’t something any of us really wants.�

Tommie tries to look friendly. “Why don’t you go back to your old turf? The war’s over, right? Rebuild there, like you did with the Ghurkas and the Hammerpack. Then we’re happy there’s no trouble around here, you’re happy you’re still in your old home. Maybe Al’s not happy, but them’s the breaks, right?� He laughs, but it sounds a little forced to me.

“We don’t want to sound like we’re trying to force you out or anything,� Frosty adds respectfully. “We’re here to offer you a deal. We know the Ultraviolet Nights-Raider Nation alliance bloodied the ‘Pack a little more than usual. We can see why you might not want to regroup within easy striking distance. I wouldn’t either.� I can tell she's being very careful to sound supportive and understanding and not come across as condescending or insulting.

She smiles warmly at Legion. “If you go back to the ’Pack’s old turf and rebuild there, we’re both prepared to offer you an alliance in case the war isn’t over and the Nights or Nation decide to come after you while you’re rebuilding.�

Tommie grins a toothy grin too. “’S a good deal Legion. You know that alliance isn’t going to hold up forever. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s finished already. Meantime, you got us backing you up. No way they’ll keep pushing it if they know you got us in your corner. Whaddya say?�

11:15:53 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Temporary Gang HQ: Apartment Building behind The Corner Pocket
Nevada

At Legion’s demand she had fingered the cred inside her jacket pocket and it intensified the emptiness she felt in her stomach. Likely everyone else in the room was suffering just like she was and could all use food right about then. Thumper’s message confirmed it. She set her priorities in her head immediately; food, water, smokes then alcohol if there was cred left over. She needed to stretch every last little nu and frankly there wasn’t much to begin with.

She had gathered a couple of the guys who at the time weren’t doing anything and would be an asset to have along with her; Shade because she found him competent enough to watch her back and Ink because his family’s bodega was the closest place to get real food, besides they could likely make the cred go farther with him in tow. It wasn’t seconds before the group was heading out the door in the pre-dawn light that the little wiz-kid Felix stepped up and asked to go along. Granted he asked Shade if he could tag along, but then who was she to argue having a little magical backup along for the ride.

It wasn’t until the quad of gangers had come within sight of the Bodega that the crisp and vivid sense of déjà vu washed over Nevada and nearly sucked all the wind out of her. Half of her wanted to turn on her heel and run at full speed back towards the apartment building expecting to see it explode before her eyes. The other half of her was detached and cold as she stepped through the familiar doors and set everyone to task gathering up various foodstuffs inside the Bodega. Anything soy she refused to pick up, instead she made a bee-line to the very limited selection of real food to pick out a very small amount for herself, a disproportionate amount when compared to the shares of soystuffs the guys picked out.

Ink’s family was more than happy to see him alive and mostly well and soon they were chittering away at one another in Spanish, bits and pieces of the conversation she was able to pick up upon casual evesdropping but she attempted to stay focused on the task at hand to avoid the memories creeping back into her consciousness. They were able to take with them many more supplies than their cred covered financially thanks to Ink’s connection along with her own limited one to Nona and Theodoro. She thanked them profusely in Spanish as they distributed their purchases between the four of them. She convinced Ink and Shade to do the bulk of the heavy lifting, carrying the cases of water and SoyBud while Felix managed the bags of soy-based food and she carried the natural stuff and her shotgun.

While the group was out, Frankie had taken it upon herself to bring the rest of the girls back from Slippy’s without an escort and she had gotten a pretty nasty earful from Nevada because of it. After shooing off the girls to go find a place to get cleaned up and get some rest in the building she was antsy, and segregated herself in a corner of the main floor gathering area. She stared off at something in the distance, her shotgun laying on the floor beside her within easy reach should it be necessary. The small bag of food remained untouched on the other side of her and she was in her own dark headspace, the place where things could get the most dangerous.

Somewhere in the background the room emptied out and more than half the Ravens were off to the meet.

11:17:23 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Temporary Gang HQ: Apartment Building behind The Corner Pocket
Grack

Since delivering the necessities and giving a tongue-lashing to the other whores, the Queen had been in majestic repose against one wall in a corner of the venerable lobby.

With an ardor scarce compehensible to the mortal soul, the noble lad gazed at her with dreams that would melt the heart and moisten the loins of any woman living or otherwise. Indeed, our Grack was well schooled in all the deft arts of pleasing the fair sex, infinitely familiar with their universal predilection for the most painful of the coupling acts, and equally versed in their general tendency to feign distress during said raptures.

And so it was that he gazed upon her from his high seat. Through the eyes of his Modesty he had seen her well in the Color World during her foray to the eth of the master stylist Ink. Now he let his mortal eyes seek out every curve of her form, every trace of grime on her face, the swell of her chest, the valleys and the peaks that physicalized her magnificence. Well did his mind's eye envision the cleft of her intimacy.

And then the Usurper was gone.

Once he was sure of his safety, he descended and approached her.

It is, of course, of utmost importance that the dear reader not venture to the altogether groundless conclusion that this delay was in any way occasioned by fear on the part of the young master. Oh no, it could never be...careful...in truth, now godlike, it would be utterly inconceivable that he be forced to cringe in hiding, biding his time DRUNDEAH!!!...oh, very well...where were we? Ah, yes, with bold and unhurried strides, the protagonist of our tale approached his Queen and squatted on his haunches, his mud-caked combat boots mere inches from her feet. The placement of his toy on the floor mirrored the position of her shotgun. His heavy black leather jacket was, as always, open to reveal the blood-coated muscles that rippled heavily across his frame as he breathed calmly through his cheeks, a stray strand of spittle escaping out the side from time to time. His earbuds raging at such a volume that anyone within a furlong could easily discern the lyrics, he simply gazed at her, unmoving as a statue.

A hero, nay, a Legend, carved in marble.

11:18:14 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Temporary Gang HQ: Apartment Building behind The Corner Pocket
Nevada

If the sound of the “music� coming from within the Ork’s ears wasn’t enough to pull her out of her headspace for a moment, the stench of the sewers mixed with blood and sweat definitely was. She blinked her eyes a few times, forcing them back into focus before turning their attention soley on Grack with a darkened scowl.

The “man� before her disgusted her to her very core. The spittle dripping from his cheeks like a rabid dog was just the icing on the cake. She could manage a level of respect because he was a Raven, but it didn’t mean she had to like the psycho crouching before her. She tilted her head just slightly as her annoyance rose to the surface.

“What?!�

She glared at him some more, waiting for an answer. Unsure if he’d look up from her tits long enough to read her lips while he stared at her she was half tempted to pull an earbud out of grime-caked ear. That however would require her to actually touch him and that was so low on her priority list she didn’t want to even bother. When he didn’t answer and just continued to stare, she got fed up.

“I don’t have time for this, I’ve got better shit to do today than play games.�

She started to push back away from Grack and started to rise to her feet, grabbing her shotgun as she stood, her dark eyes leaving Grack’s face for an instant as she took stock of just who had be left behind in the squat.

12:04:23 Saturday, 01 November 2070 - The burned out old Soybucks at the intersection of 124th Ave NE and NE 132nd St
Legion

Listening to the other two leaders offer their plan, Legion tapped out a cigarette from the pack that Shade had given him back at the headquarters. Silently he offered it around the table, being waved off by both Tommie and Frosty. Lighting up, he blew a stream of smoke towards the ceiling as the massive troll finished with his sales pitch. He glances around at the gathered forces. And smiles.

"No."

There's a moment of utter silence. Tommie and Frosty both knew that negotiations would be required, but it's still somewhat of a shock to hear the initial offer so flatly refused. Legion can see in their eyes the quick decisions being made, and the questions being asked. It was only in instances like this that his reputation as an insane machine worked against him. Judging the level of tension in the room to be just enough, he slowly and carefully spread his hands on the table in front of him.

"The alliance is over, I'm almost sure of it. Raider Nation couldn't afford to keep paying the Knights what it would cost to keep them friendly. But we're not going back to our old turf, not yet. The Hammerpack died in this war. I'd like to introduce you to the October Ravens."

Turning in his seat, he gestured to the three he brought with him.

"We're going to set up shop here. But I will take that alliance you're offering. But we're not going back. Even if Raider Nation let us alone long enough for us to rebuild, there would be a constant bloodletting along the border, small conflicts which would eventually blossom into open war the way they did this time. It's unavoidable. No, when we go back to our old turf it will only be because we're strong enough to expand there and take it back. And we won't stop."

Legion took another long drag from his cigarette, meeting the gaze of both Tommy and Frosty.

"You know me. You know I'm a survivor. I intend to raise another army. I intend to start here. And I intend to wipe Raider Nation off the map. But I'll need your help. An alliance among us cements the south end of Kingsgate. We'll stay quiet for the time being, and keep Raider Nation from looking too closely down here. We'll help you out if the 162s start acting up. We'll roll if you want to work the 405 against the Hellhounds. If we work together, we all can recover quicker from this war. Nature abhors a vacuum. We've lost a lot of brothers during this war and if we don't move fast, someone else is going snatch up the resources available."

Legion dragged on his cigarette again.

"I'm strong enough to have survived two wars here in Kingsgate. But I'm also strong enough to know when I need help. So I'm asking you. Help us start again here."

12:08:49 - The burned out old Soybucks at the intersection of 124th Ave NE and NE 132nd St
Legion, Doc, Thumper, Shade, Aziz, Bockscar, Felix

“Surviving isn’t winning.�

Frosty’s tone is matter-of-fact. Not disagreeing with Legion’s words, but not agreeing either. “You’re 0-for-2 against Raider Nation. What makes you think the third time will be the charm? More to the point, why should we believe that?�

She looks at Tommie for support. The big troll sits back in his chair and shrugs apologetically. “The alliance was only if you go back home. We don’t want a war, and we don’t want a personal fight between you and Al dragging us all into another one. If you stay, he’s going to come after you here, and when he does, we won’t be able to avoid getting involved.�

“Maybe Al can’t afford to keep paying the Nights to sustain the alliance, but one quick excursion down here for the chance to finish what they started? Meltdown might cut him a discount. Hell, he might even come down himself.� Frosty shudders at the thought.

Tommie leans forward, looking Legion in the eye. “What I want to know is, what exactly are you going to build the October Ravens from?�

He glances at Doc. “There’s a reason the 8 Balls were strictly small time, even in their own hood. You stick around, and you ain’t gonna have shit to build off of. And that means you’re going to have to look for resources somewhere else. You can’t go into Bellevue or Touristville. That only leaves two places you can go.� He looks meaningfully at Frosty.

His voice gets quiet, but is nonetheless distinctly audible to everyone in the room. “So tell me, if our alliance is only good if you leave, and you stay, where’s that going leave the three of us at?�

The room gets tense. Hands start straying ever so subtly towards various implements of extreme hostility. All eyes are on Legion as the room awaits his answer.

12:08:50 - The burned out old Soybucks at the intersection of 124th Ave NE and NE 132nd St
Shade

We're outnumbered and outgunned for sure. If I'm feeling pessimistic, and I definitely am, I have to admit there's even a chance we might be outclassed. Not that I believe it for a second, mind you, but it's been a lousy month for surprises. Please God, if Legion has a diplomatic side, feel free to remind him now would be a REALLY good time to listen to it.

Prayers notwithstanding, I shift my stance ever so slightly and flex my wrists. Something tells me God doesn't answer prayers down here in Kingsgate very often.

12:08:50 - The burned out old Soybucks at the intersection of 124th Ave NE and NE 132nd St
Thumper

Thumper having downed all four of the soybrews on the walk to the meet, was riding on the front edge of a pleasant buzz. It had put a little bounce in his step as he'd walked towards the meet. As the back and forth between gang leaders started Thumper had begun to tune it out. Not so much out of disinterest but out of a keen sense of self preservation. He set his sound filters to block conversation, turned his wires on and focused eyes and ears on the surroundings. Neither Christmas nor anyone else was going to get the jump on him.

As the room leaned in for Legion's second speech, Thumper set his hand on the butt of his pistol. He clearly remembered the fate of the dwarf who he'd taken it from and was very ready to use the spiky baseball bat slung carelessly over his shoulder, but the gun was a status symbol and a clear reminder that he was a big-league, bad motherfucker.

He listlessly worried his upper lip between his teeth and one yellow tusk. The chemicals coursing through his veins were ready for a fight and the conversation was seeming slower and slower.

11:21:00 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Temporary Gang HQ: Apartment Building behind The Corner Pocket
Grack

As his future and destined queen began to rise gracefully from the hallowed ground upon which she had reposed, Our Hero could see that she was speaking. And yet his gifts left him with no need to hear her actual words, mere linguistic artifacts cast crudely into the air between them.
Effortlessly, he read her thoughts, and basked in the passion they bespoke:

Lord Grack, my champion and king, I burn for you in the nethermost regions of my womanhood. Would that I were free to wrap you in the warmth of my mouth at this very moment. But nay, my clever machinations - conducted entirely on your noble behalf toward the furtherance of your sacred Legend - require that our flame remain unquenched for but a little while longer. But know, O MIGHTY ONE, that whatever my flesh may betray, my heart is yours and unsullied. The Usurper may have this day, but all Eternity shall be ours.

Satisfied for the nonce with her importunings, he bethought himself of the myriad tasks that lay before him, and his bones shivered with fatigue at the mere contemplation of it. Thus, with no time to waste, he stood and turned on his heel before she was fully on her feet.

Striding outside, he winced at the merciless onslaught of the sun, but it was a small price to pay - loping along in whatever shadow could be found, he was soon through the grate he had located earlier and back at long last in the dark warmth of His World.

He headed north.

11:23:00 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Temporary Gang HQ: Apartment Building behind The Corner Pocket
Ink

Ink had enjoyed his reunion with his familia. Nona had been her usual half paniced, half furious self. She hated the thought of him running with gangers and addicts. But everyone knew that if you lived in the 'Gate the gangs were part of life.

The cubano waited for Grack to make his little play for Nevada. There was going to be trouble there, Ink knew it. There was one rule of gang life which kept him healthy for most of his life. Don't shit where you eat His canny instincts had let him see that from the moment the chica strutted up to the corner last night that they were going to have trouble with her and Grack. Shit, was it only last night? It felt like years ago.

After el loco left it was time to get to biz.

"Hey chica you wanna roll back over to Slippy's see if we can rustle up some more biz? We can drag the lazybones with us if you don wanna have to run security fer the puntas all by yer lonesome. Less you think I can handle it." He fingered the pistola in his waistband to let her know he thought he was more than enough.

11:25:28 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Temporary Gang HQ: Apartment Building behind The Corner Pocket
Nevada

Once the sewer-dwelling Ork-rat had left the room the air in the gutted apartment building smelled cleaner. Not that the air in Kingsgate particularly smelled of flowers or fresh rain or any of those types of things but a few moments after Grack had left she allowed herself to take a deep breath and actually enjoy it. Her eyes were still watching the now empty doorway when Ink started speaking to her in his half street-slang, half Spanish cadence. Remaining facing the doorway she spoke up.

“The girls still need some downtime, won’t bring in as much cash if they’re tired. We’ll give em another 30 and then head back over.�

Her voice was distant and when she finally tore her eyes away from the doorway she shook her head and went back over to the small bag of things she had managed to get from the Bodega. Snacking on some real peanut butter and crackers she drained half a bottle of water in one long sip.

“I hope this shit with the Demons and the Heartbreakers gets done soon enough and we get to task on making and marking some permanent turf. We could all use the stability, some more than others.� Her comment was pointed, but not for any of the ears in the building currently.

“Wouldn’t hurt for all of us to gather up whatever gear we’ve got left either. Can’t protect shit with what we’ve got right now save for the able bodies and even those are in short supply.�

12:09:07 Saturday, 01 November 2070 - The burned out old Soybucks at the intersection of 124th Ave NE and NE 132nd St
Legion

He drew from his cigarette again and blew the smoke towards the ceiling, savoring the hot and cold feeling it left in his lungs. That Frosty did not understand the essential nature of life and warfare was somewhat surprising given her ownership of a gang, but then, you didn't have to understand a weapon in order to use it. It just helped.

"Zero for two against the strongest gang in Kingsgate: true. But each time I'm getting closer. The two of you have had it good these past few years, owning the south corner down here while Raider Nation and the Hammerpack mixed it up. Not too many eyes turned your way. You're right to worry now. Al's going to take a look around and realize that now that he doesn't have to devote any resources to dealing with the Hammerpack maybe he wants to expand his operations, do a little smuggling on the side, or own a better harem. Maybe you think that by throwing me back up there he'll be distracted for a little while, spend some time hunting the last of the Hammerpack down. You're probably right, we could hold on for a month, two at most, soaking up Al's time and patience as he hunted us down. But afterwards you'd be right back where you started. Right back in the gunsights of the most powerful gang in Kingsgate. Only this time, there wouldn't be any distractions, there wouldn't be anyone to weight the balance against Raider Nation. You going to call in Brute Force and the UV Knights? You going to cement that alliance in order to hold back the silver and black?"

Legion paused to suck another lungful of smoke from his cigarette, counting his breathing again to keep him from getting too confrontational. Goddamn I hate the sunlight.

"Right now, Raider Nation has been weakend by months of warfare. They're all in strung out shape. Even if they still have the UV Knights with them, they can't muster a full roster of offense. If we stand together now, the three of us, it'll give them pause long enough for the October Ravens to anchor in. We'll hold the south here with you until we're healed up and then we'll move north again. If need be, I'll pay toll for safe transit through when we're setting up shop to the north. We have a chance here to really make some money now that the war is over. But you've got to take the long view. If you make a safe play for some security now, you'll only live to regret it in the end."

At the end there is no artifice in Legion's voice, no glory infused vision in his words. Only the cold, black certainty of death and subjugation.

11:12:29 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Temporary Gang HQ, Apartment Building behind The Corner Pocket
Felix

When Legion told him he could roll with Aziz and Bockscar, Felix was simply too scared to show how glad he was happy to be given some sort of task. He wasn't quite sure what he supposed to do, but he still felt terribly good about it. Throwing a shy look over his shoulder toward Box and his old time friend, Felix at least felt safe. No matter how harry things might get, Aziz would at least be there to watch his back... like he had done so many times. The young mage did feel a bit ashamed of never really being able to watch out for himself... to always end up being such a burden. What he did hope was that his friend did know he would do anything for him.

Grabbing his jacket from the corner he had slept in, Felix took great care in adjusting his breathing mask and slipped his glasses on. Opening the well used flap of his backpack, he started to fish around, pulling out a trauma patch and 2 stim patch... which he quickly shoved deep inside his pocket. For a brief moment, the little wiz kid thought about simply bringing everything with him... but decided against him. Part of him hoped everything would turn out fine and that he wouldn't need any of his gear. The other part simply told him that if the drek did hit the fan, he'd have to be fast on his feet.

And speaking of feet, his ankle was only barely feeling a little better. He didn't quite limp anymore, but wasn't going to be running any marathons any time soon.

Behind him, he could hear Bockscar get his weapons ready to rock'n'roll.

“I'll be right with you guys... give me two seconds...� he threw over his shoulder, a smile hidden behind his breathing mask.

Closing his eyes, Felix took a few deep breaths.
Slowly, in a out. The world around him began to fade.
The constant whisper of the voices grew slightly louder... but it remained faint.
Felix listened to them, heard their songs and praises.
Like fresh water, their words washed over him, cooling him and relaxing him.
His hearth began to beat slower, and slower.
With each breath, it slowed down.
With each breath, some voices died down while others grew louder.
It wasn't long before Felix was hearing only those he had chosen.
Finally, they all became silent. All except one.
A strong and firm voice murmured in his ears. It spoke of renewal. Of endurance and strength.

Felix's lips barely moved as he reached out and made the voice part of him.

Opening back his eyes, the young wiz kid felt even more at ease.

Looking over toward Aziz and Bockscar, who were probably starting to get annoyed of waiting around for him so much, Felix hurried his little legs.

“Alright! Let's go!�

12:00:01 Saturday, November 1, 2070 - SSR HQ.
Fool

Fool was angry as Legion and most of the guys rolled out of the make shift HQ and to the meeting. Not only had he been passed over for the main group for the meeting but he was passed over again for the backup group. They had even taken Felix who didnt look like he could fight his way out of a wet paper bag. But there was mention of magical things so maybe he was tougher than he looked.

He really couldnt just go out and start doing things he would normally be doing when nobody even knew who the October Ravens were yet. He was sure people had noticed Legion and some of his old crew though and people had to be talking. The only thing that even remotely interested him right now was going to check out his old base. He wanted to see what it looked like in the daylight and maybe he could score some stuff for his new gang while he was there if other scavengers hadnt already stripped the place.

Fool went to his personal duffle and removed the extra clips of ammo for his gun stuffing them into the side pocket on his pants. Grabbing his spare duffle, he headed for the door stopping only long enough to tell Nevada that he would be back hopefully in an hour. He made sure his commlink was on and that his Fichette pistol was positioned right in the belt of his pants and then he left. People were out and about surveying all the damage that had been done in the last few days of fighting. Somebody had drug off one of the people Grack had tossed off the building leaving a sickening blood trail leading away from the building.

Mostly people kept to the doorways and windows of their homes and as Fool passed by people watched him. Nobody in this section of kingsgate recognized him but they all knew he wa a ganger and rolled with the SSR thanx to his coat. The sun was directly overhead now and thankfully his dermal plates and coat were absorbing the heat and keeping him warm. In the summertime it sucked to have the dermal plates though. He didnt have the money to have them professionally installed under the skin so they were left exposed and during the summertime if he stayed out in the sun to long the plates became excruciatingly hot.

As he started to get within visual range of the old SSR HQ he started to hug wall and use his cybered eyes to zoom in and scan the area of potential threats as he approached. He also cranked up the sensitivity on his earbuds so that he could have some extra warning from the things he couldnt see. Reaching down he grabbed the handle of his pistol but left it tucked into his pants as he made his way closer...

12:13:48 - The burned out old Soybucks at the intersection of 124th Ave NE and NE 132nd St
Legion, Thumper, Doc, Shade, Aziz, Felix, Bockscar

“Don’t underestimate the Ultraviolet Nights and Brute Force. Even with you out of the picture, they’d fight against Raider Nation’s growth, out of their own self-interest if nothing else.� Frosty’s voice is dismissive of Legion’s argument the Hammerpack…the October Ravens are the force best suited to balance the scales against the Raiders.

Reaching across the table, she casually plucks a cigarette from the pack Legion offered a few minutes ago and subsequently left on the table. She smiles at him and shrugs, as if to say, ah what the hell? Holding the cigarette to her lips she lights up, inhaling deeply before leaning back in her chair and releasing the smoke into the air.

“But you raise an interesting counter offer. Say we did take you up on your deal. When would you be heading back north? And why should we believe you won’t decide to establish your own kingdom down here in the south, away from the Raiders and Nights? Maybe you’ll decide to start taking over around here when you’re raising your army before you work your way back up for round three with Al.�

Tommie looks across the table at the Heartbreakers leader. “I don’t like the deal. The whole point is for him to take his war back where it belongs. Away from us. If Al wants to come this way, he’ll have to go through the Black Plague first, so we’ll see him coming. We’ll have lots of time to get ready for him. Besides, he won’t head south. He’ll go north first, and he’ll never win that fight. He might be big, but he’s stuck in central Kingsgate. And that’s where we want to keep him. And you.� The ‘you’ he refers to is glaringly obvious, but he looks over at Legion anyway. Apparently just in case he couldn’t figure it out on his own.

Frosty holds up her hands, as if to calm the troll. “I didn’t say I liked the deal either. I just want to hear more about it before I say no. Listening doesn’t cost us anything, right?�

Grudgingly, Tommie nods in agreement. “Fine. But he still hasn’t told me what he’s going to build off of in that dump the 8 Balls used to call home.�

He looks at Doc and grins. “No offense there pal.�

Turning back to Legion he says more congenially, “OK Legion, I’ll play it like Frosty wants. Let’s hear more details.�

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

As Fool carefully scanned his former gang’s headquarters, he suddenly was damn glad he’d taken the extra time to scope out his surroundings. His enhanced hearing picked up several voices. Hugging the wall, he let his cybered vision take over, revealing three figures lounging around outside the front of the building sporting 405 Hellhounds colors.

Damn it. It’s bad enough those bastards took us out but they even beat me back home. What the hell man? Seriously, what the hell?

What one of them said next perked up his interest, and he quickly focused in on the conversation between the trio, staying low and listening intently.

“…through the 8 Balls old turf?�

“How the hell am I supposed to know?�

“Think we can join ‘em?�

“Forget it man. Grunge told us to hang out here, see if any of the Rollers come back, so we can bring ‘em in to talk to him.�

“Yeah, talk.�

“Talk! Ha ha!�

12:15:49 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – The old Headquarters of the Side Street Rollers
Fool

Fool hunkers down and tries to listen in on the Hellhounds’ conversation, wanting to find out if there’s any more of them. He carefully scans them, trying to see what weapons they’re carrying. Unfortunately, he’s unable to figure it out.

After a few moments his legs start getting cramped, so he quietly tries to adjust his position. As he does so, his foot skids slightly on the loose rubble, and one of the Hellhounds snaps, “What was that?�

The second looks around and then settles his sights on Fool’s position. “Hey! Someone’s over there!�

They all immediately pull weapons. The first flicks out a switchblade, the second draws a handgun, and the third starts twirling a chain. The trio spreads out and cautiously heads towards Fool’s position as the third yells, “Come on out of there!�

12:14:07 Saturday, 01 November 2070 - The burned out old Soybucks at the intersection of 124th Ave NE and NE 132nd St
Legion

"The picture's a little different from the front lines, Frosty, Brute Force isn't in any shape to repel either Raider Nation or the UV Knights. If Al wants their territory, it's his for the taking. The only thing that's keeping him in check is fear of the UV Knights. Sure they're allies now, but we all know that all it would take would be for Al to overextend just a little, stretch his ranks out thin, and Meltdown would strike right for the heart. Central Kingsgate is a wasteland. There's nothing left there for anyone, least of all us. Raider Nation's got a good long fight ahead of them to rebuild what was destroyed in the war."

Legion responded coldly and methodically to the points raised by his fellow gang-leaders, having spent almost all of yesterday contemplating these very same points. He longed for the day when he had the entire weight of the Hammerpack backing him, and he knew that now that the shoe was on the other foot, the gangs he'd dealt with in a heavy handed fashion would be looking for some comeuppance.

"I need two months to get the Ravens into fighting shape. We're mostly muscle now, but I've got a couple of legitimate businesses to set up that'll rake in the nuyen, not to mention our narcotics pipeline. I know people have been starving for a fix what with the war going on. We'll rest up here in the south before moving back north. Give me until March first. That should be enough time to get ourselves back on our feet and ready to roll."

He tilted his head to the side and smiled.

12:16:34 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – The old Headquarters of the Side Street Rollers
Fool

Fool smiled inwardly, how many times had he been a fight when the odds were not in his favor? Plenty over the past few weeks, and plenty more before that. It seemed like he had a gift for pissing people off when all he was trying to do was make them laugh.

Fool snatched the gun out of his wasteband with the speed that his wired reflexes afforded him. He never shut his wires off, everything just moved way to damn slow with them off. He had sex with prostitutes with them on, he jerked off to porn with them on, he even took dumps with them on. His wires werent anywhere near the best, he could only dream how fast he could be with those, no his were second rate standard wires. The only gave him a small advantage in battle but hopefully they would be enough to a three on one.

As he walked out from the wall he had to concentrate and think where he had placed his flash pack. If this turned into a fight it might further help even the odds.

"Hoi chummers, hold it right there. If you wanna talk we can do it from right here. Are the Hellhounds the ones who took out the Side Street Rollers or are you guys just here to salvage what the Steel Demons left behind?"

12:18:00 Saturday, November 1, 2070 - My World
Grack

Always relieved to be back in His World, the noble lad, bearer of heraldry, rumor of Legend, the Unvanquished, made good time toward his former abode. Despite a number of short naps, he was back by only an hour past midday. His hand torch, as usual on its lowest setting, providing more than enough light for the eyes of his ancient ork birthright.

The second ignominious defeat of the once-formidable Legion in the Greatest Gang War of All Time, and the admonition of the Scinitillating One that Our Hero continue to guide and protect him in this upstart new league, the clumsily dubbed October Ravens, meant that he would be moving south. A bother that. This was a good spot, hard to find and easy to defend, with a couple of good bolt holes. Ah well, he set about gathering up his things.

Of course, sturdy youth that he was, he was already carrying many of his possessions. His new toy, his Uruk Hai jacket, fatigue trousers and combat boots. Naturally undergarments were out of the question - our lad certainly was no fop, and hardly given to unnecessary fastidiousness! He had his hand torch, and his mask, for when he led his foes into those parts of His World where the air would choke a man dead in his tracks.

Naturally there was also his music box - hard won booty from foes more than half his age. It was a special music box that had a telephone as a bonus feature - what would they think of next? Leon had fixed it so that no one could eavesdrop on his private conversations.

With the music box went nine chips - his prized possessions - all the best of the Goblin Rock genre, extolling the virtues of the most ancient race, destined rulers of this orb. They would be kings, and Our Protagonist would be their emperor.

And it went without saying that there was the tenth chip.

Other important treasures, however, were waiting for him in this place. First, there was almost a week's provisions, and indeed Our Hero set to with gusto on his midday repast. There were also several changes of clothes, his bedding, and a wondrous assortment of other useful gadgets, not the least of which was his water purifier - one of his few indulgences in the opulence that was his due.

Once he had eaten and packed everything for travel, the thought of the long walk back necessitated just one more nap.

Growing boys need their rest, after all.

12:18:37 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – Temporary Gang HQ: Apartment Building behind The Corner Pocket
Nevada

As the girls came back into the main room where only a few of the Ravens remained she tossed a glance over to Ink who seemed to be biding his own time by going through his tattoo gear.

“Hey Esse, got an idea for you. Why don’t you and the kid over there take the girls to Slippy’s, I’m sure you two can handle it.� She paused to nod her head in Child’s direction. “Anyone gives you crap, especially the giant meathead in the 3k nu suit, tell them I’ll have their balls for lunch if he interferes or renigs on Slippy’s deal.�

She picked at the imbedded dirt and grime under her fingernails with the point of her stiletto blade as if to drive her words home. If tactics would have been more her forte she would have stuck around the now-HQ until the rest of the gang returned, to insure there was something to come back to. But honestly with nothing more than a few tags spread around the place, there wasn’t much here to lose. However, with people taking off willy-nilly she felt a need to get out and walk her old turf and venture out into the neighboring ‘hoods to get a better lay of the land. She wouldn’t have to go far to get a good grasp on how shook up the Demons were, just up the block and onto the roof and she’d have a good look at how they were managing their turf lines.

Truthfully she was jonesing for her gear, but that would have to wait till she could make a trip up to Marsh’s old place and clean it out and pick up her bike without bringing down the heat of the entire Nation onto her back or the Raven’s doorstep. She didn’t feel like being a sitting duck taking a walk up 124’th, or hopscotching her way through the Corsairs, LoCoS and old Pack turf. It would make her a painted target to have to cross through either the UV Night’s or Plague’s back steps. That kind of a decision would just be bad for business for everyone.

“I’m gonna head next door and see what I can’t pick up for the dirt on the neighborhood. Most of em’ll talk to a familiar face. Might as well make the rounds.�

She buttoned up the front of her jacket and headed for the doorway without so much as an approval from Ink or giving the girls time to protest.

12:17:09 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – The old Headquarters of the Side Street Rollers
Fool

The Hellhounds exchange glances, then the guy with the knife bursts out laughing. "Who the fuck cares? The Rollers shoulda known better to get involved where they couldn't hang. If they got blown to hell in the crossfire, so what?"

As Knife Guy is talking, Chain Guy, who has a better view of Fool's jacket, notices his colors. He quickly shushes Knife Guy and says, "But straight up, sucks what happened to your crew. Ain't gonna lie, we dusted up with ya'll a couple times, but the Demons were the ones who put the last nail in the coffin. We were too busy dealing with the Lotus and Force up north to do more than hold our ground down here."

Pistol Guy nods agreeably. "Yeah man. Chip truth. Hey it's lucky we bumped into you here before the Demons did. Grunge sent us down here to see if there were any survivors. We know you guys can ride, so we thought we'd extend an invitation to try out for the Hellhounds. You got nowhere else to go, and you don't wanna hook up with those ground pounding Demons, right?"

To his credit, Knife Guy at least tries to look embarrassed, although how sincere he is is tough to tell. "Seriously dude, I didn't know you rode with the Rollers. All that shit been going down lately, I'm just glad it wasn't us, ya know? So whaddya say, how 'bout comin' back with us to meet Grunge?"

12:16:26 - The burned out old Soybucks at the intersection of 124th Ave NE and NE 132nd St
Legion, Thumper, Doc, Shade, Aziz, Felix, Bockscar

Frosty takes another puff on her cigarette and coolly releases the smoke into the air. She smiles thinly. "Believe it or not big man, I know what the picture is on the front lines." Another slow drag and puff into the air. "And it's not quite as one sided as you want to portray it. Like you said, the Raiders, Nights, and Force won't hit each other for fear of getting stabbed in the back. They're all going to be focused on rebuilding, not fighting. And if you're arguing they need to rebuild and not stretch thin, who's going to take the Hammerpack's old turf if not the Nights or Nation?"

She pauses, letting the question hang in the air. Right on cue, Tommie answers, "The Black Plague." He practically spits on the floor in distaste. "Racist motherfuckers. They barely got touched in the war. If they move north, I think they'll get pretty far before Al says enough."

Frosty nods. "You don't go soon, you might not have anything to go back to. The Plague's been recruiting hard during the war, and they're not quite the mid-level players they used to be. Especially with the LoCoS, Splintered Crash and Corsairs out the picture."

She shrugs. "Who's in position to check their advance if not you? You just told us why the other central gangs can't or won't do it. Us women," she grins sardonically and over dramatically bats her eyes at him, "are lovers, not fighters. Surely you don't expect us to do it?"

Tommie laughs at Frosty's antics. "Lady's got a point. You really want to let Raider Nation, UV Nights and Black Plague rebuild on Kingsgate's prime real estate? Make it a lot tougher to take it back from them later, don't ya think? Speakin' of prime real estate, you never answered my question. What are you going to build on down here? Ain't enough economy in the 8 Balls turf, least not enough to support the kinda ambitions I know you got."

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

Aziz looks over at Bockscar and Felix, hiding with him in a burned out building not terrible far from the meeting, and then back at the meeting, and sighs.

"I can't fucking hear or see anything thats going on. I wish that bastard would have brought me with him, and not Shade..." he laments, and sits down. He lights up a cigarette and takes a drag.

"I'm almost fucking hoping something goes down, this sitting around is just bullshit."

12:18:01 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – The old Headquarters of the Side Street Rollers
Fool

His smile on the inside only grew wider as his old gang was being insulted but he kept his face calm and cold. "Null sweat. Hey are you guys serious about Grunge wanting to recruit old SSR members?" Fool tucked his pistol back into the wasteband of his pants and held out his hand as he slowly approached them, "Hey they call me Fool! Who am I riding with! I haven't seen anyone else from my old gang around so we probably shouldnt wait around to much longer. This is going to be so wiz! Are you guys still fighting the SD's? I hope I can be initiated quickly so I can help kick their ass!"

12:52:12 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – 8-Balls old turf, in an alley off 119th Pl. NE
Nevada

Before she had gotten far from the doorway of the apartment building she had pulled a folded hat that was stuffed into the pocket of her coat and began to tuck all of her long hair up under it. Pulling the brim down to cover more of her face and shield her eyes she started off down 130th past the turn off to head down to Slippy’s. It wasn’t much further beyond that where she spotted a couple of guys huddling around the stoop of an apartment building. Watching them carefully as she approached down the block, she noticed the pair wasn’t sporting any colours of any gang in Kingsgate. Likely they came in to fill the void left by the 8-Balls from across the 405. Pulling down the sleeves of her coat she insured her gang tats were invisible by the time she stopped before the guys on the stoop. Raising her head to get a good look at them, they were faces she didn’t recognize from the neighborhood and that brought a slight smile to her lips and a cautiousness to her movements.

"You guys holding? I’m totally amped-out and really need a fix."

Unfortunately the guys weren’t peddling even baby aspirin, and they weren’t much more help as to where she could actually score. They fed her some crap about the 8-Balls holding which convinced her they were either full of shit or didn’t hit her old turf on a regular basis and had no clue as to the shitstorm they were walking into. She continued to shoot the shit with the guys a little while longer, until someone she recognized came out of the building. She was waif thin, with dirty, stringy blonde hair and flat blue eyes that looked like a hollow fish’s when she stared at you. Trisha, she had been an occasional on again, off again "girlfriend" of a couple of the 8-Balls back in the day. She flashed the girl a quick nod of acknowledgement and pulled out the last smoke in her pack. The girl sat down on the stoop with the guys who had obviously been waiting for her.

"Hey Trish, how’s things?"

"Oh hey," The girls eyes tried to focus on Nevada’s face, until recognition finally set in. "Mac, things are icy. What’s up?"

Nevada took a little more time to push Trisha for some info, asking specifically if anyone had been flashing their colours around the neighborhood lately or if anyone else had been knocking on her parent’s door collecting "protection" cash. Once she had obviously exhausted the girl’s knowledge she split, heading further down 130th she took a couple of short-cuts through a few alleys to come up on 120th Ave. a lot closer to her final destination the rooftop of Scott’s Salvage and Storage that nestled up to 132nd St. on the south side of the block.

Winding through the alleys however, she stumbled upon Wally the Beer Guy. Wally was a homeless guy who was a character to say the least, but he was much more alert than most people gave him credit for. He earned his name from the cart that he pushed around with various open beer bottles of a multitude of varieties. The bottles were filthy and filled with various liquids, often it was urine, but occasionally other bodily fluids along with undeterminable liquids. If you wanted information, you needed to "buy" a bottle of beer from Wally and he’d usually start talking.

He was huddled down into a pile of debris outside an abandoned storefront, fashioning himself some comfy digs out of sheet rock, trash bags and faux bricks. Carefully she kneeled down and tucked her head under the sheetrock overhang and called out his name.

"Wally, hey it’s Nevada, I’m dying of thirst, you got a cold one for me in there?"

The pile of trash stirred and the cart rattled it’s contents, the sound of clinking glass and sloshing liquids hitting the ground filling the otherwise silent alleyway. From beneath various food wrappers a grimy face appeared with food and filth matted in the out of control grey beard that covered the lower half of his face. A smile that would have made an English dentist proud peeked out from the mat of hair.

"Hey Lake Tahoe, got the money for a beer?"

She couldn’t help but laugh at the nicknames he came up with for her, always regarding some city or feature of the state she took her name from. Reaching into an inner pocket she retrieved an almost pristine pack of Lucky’s she lifted from the pile of goods the gang had picked up at the bodega earlier that morning. Wally wasted no time snatching the pack from her, breaking the freshness seal and shoving a smoke into his mouth, lighting it with the auto-igniter on the side of the pack. He didn’t bother to hand her a beer bottle, he knew she wouldn’t fall for his tricks, instead he just looked at her expectantly.

"Everyone knows you’ve got the best eyes and ears in this part of Kingsgate. Got any news I’d be interested in Wally? Anyone causing you trouble in the past couple of days? Anyone showing a lot of interest in the 8-Balls old turf?"

12:16:48 Saturday, 01 November 2070 - The burned out old Soybucks at the intersection of 124th Ave NE and NE 132nd St
Legion

A part of him wanted to sneer and say Sister, you know drek about the front lines but then, he supposed, that would be impolitic of him. And it was true that the girls of the Heartbreakers probably heard an awful lot of talk as they turned tricks. But listening to some novacoked ganger whisper about his daring deeds was as different from cutting down the three Raiders pursuing you as night and day. Legion would weight the knowledge and instincts gained by a lifetime of warfare much heavier than any of the words slipping between the painted lips of the Queen of Whores.

He sighed.

The sunlight gave him a headache. He was tired of talking. All he wanted was to sleep. And to drink something other than water. And to eat something warm for a change. To watch the gutters run with the blood of his enemies. His hands itched and he had to stop himself from reaching for the hilt of his sword. It wouldn't have been a hostile gesture, but it would have been interpreted as such. A vision of Tommie's face with a meter of steel embedded in it flickered across his minds eye.

Kick the table up, left hand holds the scabbard while the right draws, spinning on the left leg, the heavy wooden scabbard describing a high arc that would bring his opponent's hands up to shield his face while the sword slithered beneath, cutting upwards across the abdomen, ruining the diaphragm and lungs, continue the spin, throw the sheath at the left bodyguard, lunge forward on the right foot, the steel curve of the katana, slick with Tommie's blood, sinks into Frosty's neck, just above her breastbone.

Legion smiled.

"Maybe you haven't been listening to me, but the Hammerpack died in the war. I don't have anything left to check anyone with. Right now the Ravens are surviving, but that's it. That's why I asked for your help. I need time to rebuild before I can move to take anything back. But we can sit here all day and talk until we're blue in the face. Personally, I have better things to do. Right now, we're visitors in territory nominally controlled by you. Ask us to leave and we will. If you let us stay, it'll be better for all of us. I've made my offer and negotiations. Make a decision. But either way, we're done here."

12:18:23 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – The old Headquarters of the Side Street Rollers
Fool

Pistol Guy responds to Fool tucking his gun away by doing the same. The other two lower their weapons accordingly. He extends his hand as Fool walks closer and smiles. "Sure man, no problem. We'll put a word in for ya. I'm sure you can ride, so getting initiated should be no problem."

They shake on it, clasping hands. Pistol Guy pulls Fool into the traditional half-hug common to the streets and claps him on the back.

Suddenly he hisses, "Initiate you into hell!"

Fool's fast. He's even faster with his wires. But his speed is offset by the suddenly tight grip of Pistol Guy as he pulls Fool close. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Knife Guy close the gap, coming in mid level and strong towards his gut. On the other side, Chain Guy spins and extends, leading with the chain towards his right leg...

12:18:09 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

Frosty and Tommie exchange glances. Neither of them had extensive dealings with Legion before, and it was obvious his fearsome reputation had preceded him. Yes, they wanted him gone, but they wanted him gone with as little trouble as possible. Both now and later.

For the time being, they decided to maintain their unified front. At least it seemed that way when Tommie nodded and Frosty looked back at Legion. "We'll have an answer for you in 24 hours."

She rises to her feet, and Tommie and Legion follow suit. "Fair enough?"

The meeting was adjourned.

12:53:01 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – 8-Balls old turf, in an alley off 119th Pl. NE
Nevada

Trisha and the clowns out front of her building knew drek all, too wasted and too stupid to know or care. She'd probably see their bodies lying in a gutter soon enough, the way things were around here lately. If the 162s didn't get to them first.

When she finished asking Wally her questions though, he smiled a toothy grin at her. "Well Tahoe, ya might wanna know the Steel Demons been heavy on the border lately. Not on the wrong side 'a the line, mind ya, but more 'n usual. Scan? But I dunno 'ifn it's fer this terf. I seen several of 'em down in the old Rollers terf recently, the Hellhounds too. Down in Roller terf, I mean. Mebbe they ain't done beatin' the 'ell out of each other yet."

He takes a puff off the cigarette, savoring every moment. Then his eyes shoot open and he slaps his leg with his palm. "Holy drek! How'd I ferget, one ting ya definitely wants ta know. Word is Legion and his boys are somewhere round here. Ya best steer clear 'a them Tahoe, he's as likely ta kill ya as screw ya."

He leers at Nevada, letting his old eyes roam lustfully up and down her tight young body. "And lemme tell ya, any feller wose thinkin' like that's fuckin' crazy enough I ain't gonna get near him."

Another puff of the cigarette. "'S bout all I kin tink of at the moment. Ya got any other questions? I'm always uh, up when I talk to ya!" Cheesy grin. Playful but without serious insinuation. Nevada may have been one of the hottest pieces of ass in Kingsgate, not including the Heartbreakers (and some said even including them), and he was damn sure going to enjoy the view, but he knew better than to touch. After all, Wally might have been crazy, but he wasn't stupid.

12:54:35 Saturday, November 1, 2070 – 8-Balls old turf, on the border of Steel Demon’s Turf, in an alley off 119th Pl. NE
Nevada

She digested the information the old man was telling her as her eyes made a conscious lap around their surroundings. Satisfied nothing was lurking in the various shadows that draped the alley she turned over a large densiplast bucket and had a seat facing the alley more than Wally but definitely displaying the body language of someone who wanted to continue to talk.

"I’ll make nice with Legion and his boys Wally, but I appreciate the heads up."

Patting down the pockets of her jacket, she pulled another pack of Sampoerna’s from the inside of her coat and lit one with the same fervor Wally had when breaking into the pack of Lucky’s. As the black paper ignited and the rich sweet clove-laced smoke filled her lungs a satisfied smile graced her lips.

"So the Demons are staying to their side of the street. Interesting considering before now...well before Legion and his boys, there wasn’t anyone holding the turf to the south anymore. I guess if they hold Rollers old turf they can think they can put the squeeze on anyone who takes the 8-Balls void."

She was speaking more stream of consciousness for her own benefit than for conversation with Wally. Then it hit her, Fool. He had taken off and said he’d be back in an hour when he left before she did and he was an old Roller before their demise.

"Shit." She snarled, her mood going from relatively laid back and slightly jovial to dark and angsty in less than a heartbeat. If what Wally said was true, if Fool had gone down to walk his old turf alone, he’d be walking into the middle of trouble if the Hounds and Demons were battling it out for the blocks down to the South.

She rose to her feet quickly, and glanced down the alley from where she came. There wouldn’t be much she could do on her own, and before she started sounding alarms she had to make sure Fool hadn’t made it back to the HQ without a scratch.

"Wally, I gotta jet. Keep your eyes and ears open for me and I’ll make it worth your while."

With the exchange of goodbyes cut short she headed quickly back down the alley in the direction from which she came as she tried to catch onto a signal strong enough to get a set of messages out to the other Ravens she had commcodes for. Cursing in a number of languages when she couldn’t get one to connect she picked up her pace and took the most direct route back towards the HQ mentally sending what constituted something like a prayer that the rest of the Ravens would be back from the negotiations by the time she got back.

12:18:29 Saturday, 01 November 2070 - The burned out old Soybucks at the intersection of 124th Ave NE and NE 132nd St
Legion

Legion nodded, standing.

"Twenty four hours."

Turning, he headed for the door, flanked by the rest of his crew. Thumper waited until they were five paces clear of the building, checking six to make sure that everyone else was walking away and not looking to start trouble.

"So what now, boss?" he asked. Legion stepped ahead so he was clear of the taller metahumans before tapping his head with the palm of his right hand. It was a standard Hammerpack signal to marshal up that he performed subconsciously while he processed two different plans to brief his soldiers on. It's only when Doc looks at him in some confusion that he realizes he didn't brief that particular hand signal.

Frag. Well, they should realize the meeting's over anyway.

He fell back into place among the trio following him.

"Contingency ops, now. Thumper, get a hold of Grack. He's probably not at our temporary headquarters but off sleeping or eating. Roll back to our old turf and give me a ground recon. See what the story is and whether or not it's viable for us to set up shop there again. Doc, what are you going to need to get your lab up and running again and where can we go to find it?"

Thumper nodded, reaching for his commlink while Doc frowned, grappling with the best way to describe the problem at hand. Legion kept walking, anxious to be out of the sun, checking the side streets as they passed for any sign of their accompanying trio.

"Shade," he asked in an off-hand manner, "what do you know about getting a hold of weapons?"

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

It happens too quickly for Fool to take the offensive, as Pistol Guy grabs him and gets a bodylock on him. It's not much of a grip, but it's enough to seriously impede Fool's ability to fight back.

Fortunately, he played it smart and planned on focusing solely on staying alive until he could regroup. As Knife Guy closed in, Fool jerked his body to the side as best he could while trapped in the bear hug. Although the knife slashed his side, it was a superficial wound at best, mostly stopped by his armor. The sudden movement threw Chain Guy's attack off completely, and the chain whistled harmlessly past.

The Hellhounds had probably rushed, trying to catch Fool off guard, instead throwing off their own timing and rhythm. They slowed down, confident in their numbers and the knowledge that he wasn't going anywhere any time soon...