[Snowpocalypse] The Showdown (M 1.6)

Rich

Molotov,

-----------------------
Reminder:
This is station:


This is car:


So we're in the last car, and there's an empty gap two-cars deep between us and anybody who is off-limits. I am next to door, against wall, like fucking ghost I am so quiet. Tailfish and Tailpress at far end, and... Trespass is, well, wearing my poncho.

Okay, so is little embarrassing, but other two men are not my size, and she is told to put head down and cover up. Is looking a lot like me, da? Urgh. Maybe, is everyone in this car being shot and my being so sneaky is not coming out. Still, is little bit shameful.

Anyway. Tailfish and Tailpress, the two boys, are standing there with guns out, like they are my captors and Trespass is me. I am waiting for Carnation to walk through, then we are having little talk, da?
-----------------------

Trespass, who outside of the poncho, looks like this:



She's got your boots on, since her tiny feet would be a dead giveaway. With the hood pulled over, well, she doesn't pass very well. At all. Tailfish, the one with the blonde mohawk, cracks a couple lights so it is much dimmer, and it's still awful, but less awful.

Then, you wait...

After a small forever, you hear Roxy, chatting casually with someone, the click clack of her high heels on the concrete. The Tail Boys are nervous, shifting, trying to seem casual, nonchalant. They mostly pull it off.

Then you hear him. Carnation. "So Rocks, you're telling me he went for a girl? Shocker!" He laughs.

Roxy replies, "Well, I'm sure you can convince him to give you a try, but that's up to you, and out of here."

The train door slides open. Two guys, Jabberwocky and Excelfile3 entering ahead of Carnation, but you see him, walking in, behind them, eyes on the figure in the poncho. He is already realizing this is effed.

Let's see you Act Under Fire, Molotov.

Kaillan

OOC: Acting Under Fire. Roll+Hard. +1 XP
(Rolled: 2d6+3. Rolls: 3, 3. Total: 9)

Rich

The Tail Boys pull out their guns and start firing right off, catching those two guys in front full on. Carnation is quick though, he pushes those guys into the car and turns to head out of there, not turning his back on you, drawing a shiny pistol, a Desert Eagle, actually.

Trespass is slower, but she's pulling out her little pig-sticker and her stun gun. Jabber and Excel are toast, they are putting up a fight, but it's all but over there. Carnation, though... he's GTFO'ing

What do you do?

Kaillan

From Molotov:

Okay, nice gun, but there is saying about pig in mud that comes to mind. If you look in my eyes I'm sure you are seeing the smile. I turn around the corner, pointing my gun through the door - I doubt the Tails or fake me could be getting a good shot off anyway. My bare feet are warm in the blood.

Where is he going? Is whole two-car gap between us and his safety. And I am not letting him climb up onto the station. I'm going to shoot him, in the legs if I can. And fuck it, I'll catch his bullet if I'm having to.

Rich

To Molotov:

Let's see you Seize his mobility By Force here.

Kaillan

OOC: Seize By Force. Roll+Hard. +1XP.
(Rolled: 2d6+3. Rolls: 4, 2. Total: 9)

Kaillan

OOC: Ouch...
• Take definite hold of it.
• Suffer little harm.

Rich

You open up on Carnation, firing through the train with your assault rifle. Of course, it's ful auto, so bullets fly, probably chewing up his other guards. Carnation is screaming to mow the place down, and whoever else is back there just opens up.

But his screams cut short, you hit him, and at one point, you see him through the square windows to the outside of the train car, then you see him jerk and fall.

Trespass stuns one guard, then guts him. Tailpress is firing out of the car, trying to get Carnation's gang to back off. Tailfish is trying to push the doors back open.

OOC: Roxy talked Carnation into bringing in a few of his best, so this is just a few guys against a few guys, so there's no size advantage either way.

Carnation's guys are elite, so it's 3-Harm coming into your area (using their machine guns for area attack). You've got +2 armor and your side suffers little, so you take Harm-0. Your guards have no armor, so they eat 2-Harm.

Who dies, Molotov? Talefish, Talepress or Trespass?

What do you do?

Kaillan

From Molotov

The gunfire is deafening. I crouch down, the metal wall against my back. Tailfish wasn't so lucky, taking three- four, no...who is caring, too many bullets to chest. He's slumped against the far wall, glass raining down. Dead.

Our car's halogen lights flicker above us. I take a peak around the corner through the door, getting a read on the situation. Is Carnation down? How many boys are left? I know two are dead by my feet. I am sitting in their blood, almost. As I do this, I'm reloading my Last Resort.

Kaillan

OOC: Read a Sitch. Roll+Sharp. +1XP
(Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 6, 4. Total: 12)

Kaillan

OOC:
• what should I be on the lookout for?
• what’s my enemy’s true position?
• who’s in control here?

Rich

Good news, Molotov! Right now, you're in control here.

Your enemy is lying by the tracks, slowly bleeding out. Poor egomaniac Carnation always tamped down any other strong voices in the gang, so instead of some other badass stepping up, these guys are just trying to cover him and GTFO. They're running scared, and Carnation fell for Roxy's lies hook, line and sinker.

You should be on the lookout for Roxy. She doesn't fully trust you, Molotov, and if she thinks you're going to roll over into her house and try to take over, she's ready to majorly fuck your world. In a bad way.

Kaillan

From Molotov:

It looks good from up here, as I stand up in the carriage doorway. There are dead bodies and flickering lights behind me. I shout down at Carnation's men- no, not his any longer; they are cowering, ducking or running. I no longer care where they are, or what they're doing. I've got them by the balls and I let them know, loud as I can, "SPAREKEYS. CARNATION, THAT SICK LITTLE ASSHOLE IS DEAD. HE IS BREATHING BLOOD. AND YOU HAVE OPTIONS. OPTION ONE, RUN. IF I SEE YOU AGAIN, IS LAST MISTAKE EVER MADE FOR YOU."

In the small silence that follows, there's the static flickering of the lights, and the wheezing of death. I follow it up, "OPTION TWO. STICK AROUND IN THE GREASE PARK. BE MY GUNS. LIFE WILL NOT BE JUST SURVIVING ANY MORE. IT WILL BE GOOD LIFE."

I'm out of breath and my chest hurts, but it feels good to take charge like this, to be in charge. I jump down onto the tracks, hitting the cold soil with bare feet. The dirt sticks to blood. I pull out that small, broken little shell and play with it as I approach Carnation.

Rich

To Molotov:

Oh hey, here's your Harm roll!
(Rolled: 2d6. Rolls: 4, 5. Total: 9)

Rich

To Molotov:

A couple of the Sparekeys bug out, running back down tracks and out of there. But there are six good Sparekeys, and probably more back at Grease Park, who stick around.

Never Summer, Carnation's willowy, bespectacled sword-swinging killer, gives you a nod. Tze says, "Shall we end Carnation for you?" and bows.

There is distant sound of gunfire as the fleeing Sparekeys try to get out of Roxy's house of ill repute.

What do you do?

Kaillan

From Molotov:

"Nyet, he is mine," I tell Never Summer, but wave over to where the shooting is, "Roxy will be having our dicks if her girls die- I would be keeping them, and then having girls alive to stick them in, da?" I don't smile. Sparekeys will have to be getting used to boss-man who does not smile for sake of it.

"Go make sure those fucking cowards do not much damage, and give hand for helping if it needs given. I will make sure there is festivities after is all said done."

I click finger at one of the boys. "Nyet. You stay, hold him down." I crouch down beside Carnation, let him look at me, take good look at blood running down from his mouth.

"You remember this, da?" I say, wiggling the little bullet between thumb and finger.

Rich

To Molotov:

Some of the Sparekeys chuckle at the rough humor, then they take off to hunt down the runners. Funny how quick they turn on their own, eh? Never Summer stays behind.

Thick old Bonk nods when you tell him to hold down his old boss. He steps on Carnation's arms. Carnation grunts in pain, trying to suck it up. His shoulder was a mess from yesterday, and now his hip is oozing blood. He's white as the snow from blood loss and fading.

You show him the bullet and ask if he remembers it. He looks at you with hate and doesn't answer.

What do you do?

Kaillan

From Molotov:

I make tsking sound, disappointed, and grab Carnation by the jaw. I am not one for speaking when nothing needs saying, but he is dead man, so little respect, maybe. "I should be thanking you. Before, I was looking for death and did not know it. Now?" I give a little shrug, making eh face, "I have reason to live and you do not. I have the smartest of your men and you have nothing. I am sorry, but life is not fair, okay?"

These are good last words. I pat his cheek and force the bullet past his weak, red-wet lips. He struggles, but I coo to him, make sure it's not spat out. And then I pray, dragging him by the hair over to the tracks, "May the Preservers remember you, you fucking asshole."

Bonk is still holding him down, which is good, because last burst of adrenaline will give weak man strength. I make sure his teeth are on the metal. He is saying something, muffled. I look over at Never Summer who stayed behind. "You want to be second man of charging, da? You have honor of putting this one down." And I tap Carnation's head with my dirty, bloody toes, inviting tzer foot.

Rich

To Molotov:

This is Never Summer:


Tze steps forward, slowly drawing out this sword:


"You called me a faggot, Carnation. Just like you did Molotov." Tze stands over Carnation with the tip of the sword to the old gang boss's testicles. Then Never Summer slices Carnation from asshole to his gut, not hacking, just using the blade to open him up. "My new boss said you're a dead man."

Carnation jerks, but Bonk is standing on him. He squeals in pain, then swallows your bullet, and slumps, blood pouring out of the fresh wound. Bonk blanches at this, looks away.

With a cruel squint of pretty eyes, Never Summer looks to you. For approval? Acceptance? Something...

What do you do?

Kaillan

From Molotov:

The old regime jerks and dies beneath my foot. I do not take my eyes off this Never Summer, who is d'yavol with his sword, like vengence in flesh. He is strong and queer? I am first thinking, have always been thinking, this is conflict, like no fucking way. But this is how Carnation was seeing things. And then I'm knowing we have been wrong. He was fucked over by Never Summer and Suitcase for same reason. Is how I have humiliated him, taken everything from him. So, I make only decision I can.

I nod at Never Summer. And I let him know, in voice like this is gospel, "If you are hearing that disrespect again, well, I expect to see their tongue or name at my feet." I look over at Bonk and whistle through teeth to get his attention.

I pound a finger into my chest, then point at the gutless, groinless man eating the tracks. "We are thieves in law now, da? So, I want everybody understanding - this is the punishment for disrespect, for turning back, for being weak or coward. We are standing together. Strong. We make Chi-town ours. Together. And, if I am finding one of Sparekeys who is not fitting with this plan, well, I will break him."

And while I'm wishing more of my Sparekeys were here, I know my word will spread.

Rich

To Molotov:

Never Summer eats this up. Tze nods like you're preaching a sermon. Bonk shrugs and nods, too. He's not completely recovered from seeing his old boss and friend opened up like a fish by his own man.

"The Sparekeys will flourish." Never Summer says confidently.

The rest of the Sparekeys who stayed come back in a couple minutes. They're fired up, this change in regime has them excited. Word of your new orders on culture are passed back and forth.

Roxy appears around a corner. She passes by you to check out her guards. Trespass has dressed in her sleek outfit again, and Tailpress is busy carrying his cousin's body out of the train car in order to...

Hey, with the ground always frozen, what do you do with dead bodies here?

Kaillan

Where do the dead go? Huh. Well, in Chi-town, burying is about as much of an option as closing your eyes and praying real hard, so the citizens had to start getting creative. Firstly, are you squeamish about the corpse of a relative? If not, then cut her up and ship it over to a grower for mulch. They'll pay you good in barter. Your dead can feed the plants for a good long while. Otherwise, well, you best find a manhole to the sewers that ain't buried in three feet of ice. Good luck.

And just so we're clear, sure, there are assholes who don't know the meaning of civic duty. You see those guys dumping bodies in the street and driving off back home - blocks away, enough so it ain't their problem. Yeah, fuck them. You got entire tunnels filled with the sick and diseased already, without them adding crap to a shitload.

From Molotov:

Is little bit sad that Tailpress died doing biznes for me. I walk up beside Roxy and say as much, crossing arms over chest, with nod to Tailpress' retreating back. Then, sort of awkwardly, this situation is little bit awkward, with the living and dead Sparekeys lingering around, and all those bullets only recently fired...anyway I say, "So, your girls are safe, da?"

Rich

To Molotov:

Roxy waits for her man to be carried off before she answers. Once they're out of sight, that sultry smile slides onto her face again and she comes up to take your arm, "They're safe. Carnation's dead, but it looks like we traded up... and I'm eight jingle richer. C'mon, Molly. I owe you a little somethin-somethin."

Kaillan

From Molotov:

"Da," I reply, and wipe nose with finger before hooking it over shoulder, at my Sparekeys. "And maybe, is something yours are having for mine too." Carnation's brains are wet between my toes, and while these boys are feeling like this mother-fucker is God right now, I'm not planning on letting that high drop until it's lights out.

When dawn rises tomorrow, I will still be their boss-man, and there'll be nothing to do about it.

Rich

To Molotov:

Roxy calls to Trespass, "Tress, set these guys up with any girls, or boys, not otherwise occupied. We're taking care of them all tonight. But Molly, you're all mine."

The Sparekeys whoop with excitement and follow Trespass to paradise.

What do you do?

Kaillan

From Molotov:

"Da," I tell Roxy, and my face shows no emotion, of course, but she can see in my eyes. You can never hide the eyes. This is big deal for me. This is first, since Santa Cruz. And I have chosen her equal. "I am all yours."

Like perfect gentleman, I put out hand, letting Roxy lead the way. I continue to be perfect gentleman until clothes come off...

And after that? Well, I take what I need, and if she is such strong woman, she can take for herself. I am encouraging her to be rough, so I don't feel so bad when I am too. Is only fun like battle, da?

This is me naked, more or less:

Rich

To Molotov:

You've found a definite match. Roxy has a bit of a mean streak in her, and once you get a bit rough, she returns in kind. Nails across your back, digging her heels into your side as you pound her into her own mattress. She even bites your shoulder when she reaches orgasm, the first one.

All in all, the two of you are spent when you collapse beside her.

How was it for you, Molotov? Do you hold her in your arms, some secret kinship now? Or is it merely quiet staring at the ceiling? Or roll over and sleep?

Kaillan

From Molotov:

Hngh. Is not a word I know of, describing it, of being with equal and being such...lost in self. So, I will say, it was good time. But, no, is no cuddling or whatever is called. Maybe, we lie there, and she is pulling out this pre-Winter cigar, like worth 3-barter for tin at least. She is saying I earned it, so we smoke, and I'm not normally smoker - but starting to think I should be.

And that is how we fall asleep. Scratched. Bruised. Sweaty. Smoking. Maybe, she is putting head on my chest, and I am putting arm over her shoulder, but is nobody ever going to know.

Rich

--END SCENE--