[Fury] Motor Duel (Dog 5.1)

Rich

Dog,

You head out to where your Arrows are hanging out, their bikes just outside the stadium, under the shadows as they watch the path between here and Pike. Rainey has a pair of binocs, watching closely.


"Dog!" Chance calls first, seeing you before the others. She's sitting on that same light post, about fifteen feet up, her feet dangling over the edge.


Grunge, sitting on her h-bike that she almost never leaves alone, calls out, "Sounder looks good, glad you sprung her, Dog!"


Rainey is still watching the horizon, "Hey Dog!" she calls. "Salmon gave SeaTac and Gates some trouble earlier. I thought about going in there and messing with Salmon. Didn't. Laika's pissed about that. Said I'm skittered." Laika isn't here with the other Arrows.

What do you do?

halcy

Change gets a wave. "Hey, y'all! It'll be good to have Sounder back around. She ain't clear to ride though, or fight, so watch her." I prop up next to my bike, smooth a hand on its surface like I'm giving it a warning to be ready.

Rainey's report..hrrm. The flood is Salmon doing harassing those two in sight of SafeCo? "Salmon's time'll come up when it does." I guess Laika's catchin' feelings, but I trust Rainey. I do not like all this weight's gettin' thrown around lately. Is Admiral even thinking about this stuff? He can't control all these soakers. "Prob'ly woulda sparked some extra fighting if you did..not good, 'specially on Motor Duel day."

"Speakin' of which, Pine and Grimace both got wrecked up down in the garage. I'm going in to duel Balance instead." Now I think about it, this could give Tax Patrol a reason to give us splash. Soak 'em.

Rich

Dog,

The tension around Rainey's shoulders relax a little when you agree with her call. It bothers her, Laika getting upset. Probably a big reason she happily fell into a beta role behind you.

The revelation of your fight with Balance is met with a variety of reactions.


"Hell yes!" Grunge says as she revs her h-bike's engine, "I hate that soaker!"


Chance stands up on her perch, looking down at you, "Wait. Balance? Is it a fight to the death, Dog?" There's worry in her tone.


Rainey takes down her binocs and turns to face you, "Is it Arrows on Tax Patrol? They're gonna be pissed when you gank his ass."

What do you do?

halcy

I crack my neck. "They're gonna have to cope. I don't know what the terms are. I don't know as Balance would respect 'em, either." I know I won't, not with that frogson. Sounds raw, but I can't hold back on someone with his reputation.

"Now, if Balance is here for the duel, you know Tax Patrol is around. And they got permission from Admiral to be here, yeah? Gotta be so. So we have to keep ourselves real dry." I throw a leg over my bike and straddle it, fire it up. "Be sharp as the duel ends, Rainey. I'm gonna go ride in, get the what's what from Valentine. Taste the air and all that."

After all the emotion with Bon and Shy and Mox, I need to get in the zone and get hard. I know crowds screamin' at me will do it. I know Valentine's pre-show face will do it. I know lookin' at the dirt floor of the arena will do it.

Rich

Dog,

Rainey nods, following your words, probably anticipating it. She strides over to her h-bike and mounts it. Chance starts sliding down the pole she'd climbed, moving quick and easy.


Belka raises a crowbar up that she recently found, pumps it in the air, "Tax Patrol dies today!"


Grunge glances down at her machine gun, which is in a holster she fashioned out of leather straps, "There are more of them than I have bullets."


"Dog, who's your second in the fight?" Rainey asks. All the Arrows look, most of them want to be picked.

What do you do?

halcy

Geez, a second. What a privilege. Hmm, up against Balance, who would I pick? Someone who's hale from the big boat fight, someone with strong riding skills. I'd pick Grunge right off but she's brand new to the gang. That says either I think she's disposable or I'm trusting her too fast.

"Belka, you're my second." Keeps her out of Rainey's crew and inside where she can splash words like that and not be taken as seriously.

Rich

Dog,

Belka lets out a whoop and twirls her crowbar around, while the rest of the Arrows take it serious and Rainey starts to get them moving, giving signals to mount up.


"Like old times, yeah?" Belka says as she grins wide, looks over at Grunge. Grunge gives her a serious nod, like she's not surprised or anything, being bottom rung.


Grunge says in a hard, serious tone, "Stay dry, Dog. Don't make us avenge you, yeah?"


Rainey calls out, "C'mon, Arrows! Ride hard to the hideout and get everyone mounted up. No way we're not backing Dog, yeah?" A roar of Arrow yells and whoops, then they're riding off.

Except Belka, who's right here with you. Your second.

What do you do?

halcy

I hoot and holler with the rest of the girls, then cut out from the pack as they go to the hideout.

It's time to ride in. "Heh, close enough." I grin to Belka and rev my engine.



GROWL.



S'a lot easier just rolling an H-Bike into SafeCo like some big grandstander than a whole car, which is why I'm doing it. The audience's game is hype and gambling. Big faith and big sorrow. They want to see bold faces, hear bold lies, risk big jingle. Belka right behind me, I'm gonna give it to 'em.

Rich

Dog,

You ride through the concourse, the concrete are that connects the outside world to the stands. It looks a bit like this:



The crowds part, some brave souls move closer to reach out and touch your ride. She growls, and folks jump back when the h-bike lets forth that loud engine roar. Belka's behind you, shouting at everyone to "Make way! Make way, you soakers! Dog needs to get down there so she can fight!"

The crowds chant your name, Dog. Bright eyes, hope, encouraging looks. Even a bit of worship from the huddled masses.

In a few moments, you head down the ramp to get out onto the mud. It's nearly time. The keepers are dragging away the body of one competitor in a warm-up match who didn't survive a fall, or maybe a knife. Bloody and dead, he was.

Across the way, you see the waving flags on the two vehicles of the Tax Patrol. And there, sitting in his dune buggy with the cage around it, with big knobby tires, is Balance. Balance lays into his horn and offers you a predatory grin.

The crowd boos and jeers and shout at the Tax Patrol, hateful words or guttural slurs. Balance ignores them. You know he secretly loves the attention, he craves their shock for the moment when he finally takes you down.

What do you do?

halcy

I'm careful with my ride in but not slow. One muckhead tries to touch the light-up touchy-panel between the handlebars and I snap teeth at them, then lean back and smile. Caught up in the feelings, I unclip the little clayman ornament I picked up at the casino and flick it into the crowd.

This ain't what I'm used to, this love. Even when I fought a couple other times for Valentine here, the audience wasn't like this. Certainly I didn't get love down at Binge Hole. Then again, fighters didn't get hyped the same way there.

One thing the old pit has on this one is just this bit - no mud. Back home it was clean sand. Before I was dirtying that sand with blood, it was my job to scoop out the sand where advocates had stained it, replace it, and make it smooth. Had to be fast-fast-fast because there was a whole schedule, and nobody wanted to fight on the inauspicious red. Hard soakin' work.

They're hauling a corpse away, and that's the last little bit I need to harden up. Sucks to be you, buddy, but thanks. I'll try and get some of you in Balance's eyes today.

I rev my engine, then cool the impellers till the bike's almost settled on mud and let the power back into them all at once. The bike jumps and makes a little scream ain't like nothin' else. I show Balance my teeth. I know just how he feels, what it's like to love how people hate what you do but they can't do nothin' about it.

Rich

Dog,

As you rev up the bike, the crowd starts stomping their feet and cheering, throwing junk towards Balance, forcing him to move a little further inside the mud and muck of the grounds to avoid being hit by bottles or sticks.

The stomping of the crowd falls into a rhythm. Two stomps, then a sharp clap.

Two stomps, a sharp clap.

Two stomps, a sharp clap.

video

This continues for a while until over the crackling speakers, a man, sounds like Needle from the Yacht Club, he starts chanting:
"Balance, you're a boy, make a big noise
Playing in the street gonna be a big man some day!
You got mud on your face!
You big disgrace!
Kickin' your can all over the place!
Singin'..."

Then the entire crowd joins in this shouting of, "We will, we will ROCK YOU!"

"We will, we will ROCK YOU!"

The voice picks up the next verse, but among the stomps, you hear the first patters of rain. The crowd starts to realize a storm is coming, but they're into the song and keep pushing.

"Balance you're a young man, hard man
Shouting in the street gonna take on the world some day
You got blood on your face
You big disgrace
Wavin' your Banner all over the place!"

The crowd again joins in this shouting of, "We will, we will ROCK YOU!"

"We will, we will ROCK YOU!"

The man sings louder, trying to hold the crowd's attention as the rain comes down harder, and thunder rolls,
Balance you're an old man poor man
Pleading with your eyes gonna make you some peace some day
You got mud on your face
Big disgrace
Some DOGGIE better put you back into your place!"

"We will, we will ROCK YOU!"

"We will, we will ROCK YOU!"

The chants continue and the storm rolls in harder, the din of the rain on the tin roof matching the tumult of the crowd. Rain drips in different spots through the roof, down onto the mud of the field, and Balance has eyes of hate for you. He glances over to his second, a tall, proud man with snake tattoos all down his arms.


"Dog!" Belka says as she pulls her h-bike up beside you. She's intense, grinning with their fierce madness. "Thanks for letting me be here with you! This is the greatest! Gods above and below, how did you leave this life?"

halcy

The singing. The rain. What am I waiting here for? All I want is a gunshot and a shout so I can run across the field and do my work. But Dog, you got a bike now, better than runnin'. I squeeze the handlebars of my ride hard. Don't gun it. Stay.

More of that blood-smell invites itself into the arena as Belka drifts next to me on her bike.

"On a stretcher, Belka. Take it serious, 'cause this kind of love comes with heavy conditions." After that splash of cold water, I give Belka a grin. "S'good you're here, though." I clasp her shoulder. "I know you got my back."

Rich

"There's no stretcher today, Dog!" Belka shouts, raising her fist to the crowd. "You're riding out of here. And Balance dies here!" She reaches over to pat your thigh, meeting your eyes briefly, "I've got your back, Dog."

She sits back, looking at the crowd, "You think Grunge finds this sexy, Dog?" She raises both hands up, gesturing for the crowd to yell louder for you.

halcy

I give Belka a dangerous grin while holdin' her look, show her I agree.

"Grunge? Couldn't tell you! Prob'ly?" I twist around to look up at Yacht Club. I stand up on the platforms while Belka grandstands for me, raise my arms up and make some rude faces letting just my legs control the bike under me. When we gonna get terms?

The rain knocks on the roof. My heart rushes. I'm ready and I don't want this feeling or the crowd to sour.

Rich

Dog,

This song starts playing over the loudspeakers.

After a minute, with the crowd humming excitedly, you see Valentine, Vignette, Admiral, August, and Gates walk out to the skybox, taking seats. You know what's coming, right, Dog? Balance does, for sure. You see him revving his engine. He's aching to tear into you, his quick little dune buggy is as tough as he is, and you're going to have one hell of a time winning this fight.

Valentine picks up a small microphone, hops up on the rail to address the crowd, "My darlings! It seems... you want blood! You got it! If you want blood, you GOT IT!" The crowd roars and hoots approval. They begin chanting your name again, and the stomping thump thump rattles the place.

Valentine removes zir hat and uses it as a prop to indicate you, and Balance, "Two gang leaders. One hated. One hateFUL. Two gang leaders enter.... ONE leaves!" There's a frenzy coming onto the crowd now in response to that. "If you want BLOOD!" Valentine gestures to the sky, to the roof and the sound of the rain, "YOU GOT IT!"

The guitar licks and the song slowly come to an end, but the crowd continues chanting the lyrics of the chorus.

"If you want blood. You got it!"

"If you want blood. You got it!"

What do you do?

halcy

Valentine lays out the terms, lays 'em on real thick. Under the roar of the crowd ain't nobody can hear the growl of my H-bike turn to a murmur as I cycle down the impellers again for a hop like I did before - 'cept this one will be pointed forward. I give Belka a warning look, she needs to back away from me a bit.

When the song is up? I gun it.

Rich

Dog,

Belka eases back, circling around to watch your six, but far enough away to avoid any thrust. Your ride explodes forward in a fury of thrust and skill. Across the way, Balance guns his engine and the dune buggy, which looks like so:


It zooms forward, over the muddy terrain, right at you. Dog, he's looking to just rotting ram you, right here and now. Use your eagerness to scuttle your h-bike so he can tear you apart.

What do you do?

halcy

Well, the fun thing about a dune buggy is even though they're tough as nails and quick as bunnies, they're wide open. And the fun thing about impellers instead of wheels is they don't care about the shape of what they're pushing off of.

So I'm going to try and jump the buggy, pummel Balance with my antigrav wake, land and come around for another pass.

Rich

Dog,

Balance was hoping to make you scatter, but he catches on quick that this is a game of chicken, and you're not playing by the rules. He's driving with one hand, whipping that wicked flail - morningstar thing on a length of chain outside the buggy. He's going to try and wiggle you loose and rip you off that bike, Dog.

The collective breath of hundreds of sods suck in as the moment of first contact approaches.

Please roll to shoulder Balance's Buggy.

halcy

Rolling to Shoulder a Vehicle; (Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 4, 3. Total: 9)

Rich

Dog,

You hop your ride up, over the front fender of Balance's wicked dune buggy, the thrust of your grav engines press down like a brahma bull on the hood, then the roll cage, and Balance, himself. His spiked ball comes flying over, hitting your leg hard, maybe breaking, definitely cutting you (1-Harm AP). The buggy whips by underneath you and for a moment, you're almost fifteen feet up, flying high before landing on the other side.

Behind you, Balance skids forward a couple dozen feet, his buggy throwing mud and fishtailing before he can regain control. He does though, and while that hurt him, he's not out of the fight.


"Nice trick, Splitface!" He yells as he backs up his buggy for another pass, pulling his flail in, and switching weapons. "I'm gonna ride around this rotting place with your HEAD as my new hood ornament!"

What do you do?

halcy

Dunno how my leg's really doin', but that won't quite matter as long as I'm on the bike. I laugh at Balance's braggin', and his face. I know I got him. I showed him how first, too. Fair an' square.

I get my bike turned around, the metal of my machete slides out of the leather of its sheath. "Come and get it!" Wonder what he's grabbing in there. Wonder how many friendly objects like that mace would rattle around with him if that buggy got flipped.

Well, we'll see what this pass brings. I give my blade a showy handflip before punching the throttle again. I show you mine..

---

Every animal that lives does so according to the laws written in its body. The length of its stride, the gift of its instinct, the power of its jaws. When presented with a situation, the animal inevitably defers to its laws according to the case at hand.

This consistency, once a combatant has learned the animal's precedents, will be its downfall. Its laws will be broken, and the society of its life ended.

It is not held to blame for this failure, only pitied.

Man, however, must be different.

Rich

Dog,

Balance pulls up a pistol-grip shotgun out of some kind of holster between his seats. It has beads wrapped around the barrel up by the sights, colorful ribbons are tied around the neck and wooden stock. If it weren't a weapon, it would almost be... pretty?

You can tell he's going to charge at you again, betting that you'll pull the same move. But this time, he's going to shoot your soaking h-bike out from under you.

What do you do?

halcy

Heh, that's cute. Easy to wind around him and pull out my big barking machine gun, spray the smile off his face.

August does her Drumma call. I smile without fully knowing.

I do wonder if he has another trick up his sleeve, showing me that gun so easy like I showed my machete. I drive straight and ride high to get a look-see inside, then bank off to half-circle around the buggy. Let him be impatient and don't give him a straight line.

halcy

Read Sitch, Marking XP (4); (Rolled: 2d6. Rolls: 2, 5. Total: 7)

halcy

What should I be on the lookout for?

Rich

Dog,

You're moving fast, Dog, and so's Balance. But you catch sight of something sticking a half inch out of the barrel, a little cable.

You've heard of a thing called a ball chain. Person loads up a pair of ball bearings connected by a cable, with washers strung on the cable. Fires it out of a shotgun, and it spreads wide. Can take off an arm, or a head.

It can tear an h-bike to shreds, too.

You see Balance set that shotgun barrel on a little groove at the top of his dashboard. He's trying to goad you to charge so he can take you down.

But...

You pick up one more thing, Dog, because you're cagey. Because you have "pit awareness". This isn't your first rodeo.

He swerved so that the line between you two is set up just right. If you charge ahead, you'll have to ride under a sheet of blood rain coming down through a leak in the roof. Sure, you've got armor and all, but you're not protected for a ride into the rain.

Balance grins. He's going to mock you if you back down. Some of the crowd, not the locals, but some of them. They might hear him, or figure it out. Call you skittered.

What do you do?

halcy

Well they might hear him, I guess, if they're good at hearing splash-talk over gunfire. I'm not riding into a sheet of blood for pride, I'm here to kill Balance and then talk to Admiral. If some chair-surfing soakhead wants to call me a coward for killing one of the most dangerous men on the coast because I didn't let him shoot me in the face first, I'll show that soaker the color of their own guts.

But. I do want to make him waste that shot. Maybe wreck him, too. Might be able to do that with the old Devil's Umbrella.

You point the bottom of an H-bike at rain, what do you suppose happens? It sprays right up around like a big old bubble. Gonna have to do it favoring my good leg, and I'm gonna have to get to that curtain of rain ju~ust before he thinks his shot is gold.

I'm not rain-tight and neither is he. It works both ways, Balance.

I get tight and focused. Slide my machete back home and get ready for this skill riding. Let's hear him splash-talk me with a mouth full of blood.

Rich

Dog,

That is some crazy talk, Dog. I think that's an Act Under Fire there. If you get a 7-9, then you're both caught unprepared in the blood rain.


Balance notices you sheathe your machete and calls out, "What's amatter, ugly? Gonna piss your skirts and run? Get your splitface over here so my shotty can kiss it!"

What do you do?

halcy

Rolling Act Under Fire; (Rolled: 2d6+3. Rolls: 2, 5. Total: 10)

Rich

Dog,

Too late, Balance realizes your plan. He knows this is going to hurt, regardless, so he fires on you with his ball chain, but the distance is much farther than he'd anticipated. The pair of ball bearings swing around and around as they fly towards you like a buzzing disc. One of the ball bearings hits your h-bike right as you turn her over to use the grav propulsion to dowse Balance. The bike has a minor short circuit, you can re-route the power, but it burns you (take 0-Harm, please roll the Harm move).

The spray arcs over the dozen or so feet between you, a sheet of red rain covers Balance. He tries to throw up a hand, but the acidic liquid penetrates his head, his upper torso, even seeps down. You think he probably got a mouthful of the stuff, even.

Balance's vision is blurry, surely. He's spitting out that rain and scrambling for another weapon, trying to clear up enough to fight.

What do you do?

halcy

"Suck my blood, pus-giver!" I jerk the power cable from next to the broke spot and clip it to an aux. It stings.

---

Rolling Harm Move; (Rolled: 2d6. Rolls: 5, 2. Total: 7)

halcy

After that bit of fun, all things being equal I'll be pressing my advantage and shooting up Balance and his moist little buggy. I take things a little slower to baby my bike and get a better shot.

---

I realize I didn't include my armor on the roll above, either, in case it applies. Good gloves or something.

Rich

Dog,

You straighten out your ride and circle around, only to find that even blinded, Balance is no slouch. He threw the car into reverse and now he's gunning it for a small embankment, trying to get some distance to buy some time to recover, driving half-blind.

It was a 2-Harm attack originally. I took the armor into account. We're golden.

What do you do?

halcy

Balance is making a chase out of this! Fun. I follow, trying to line up beside him, dodging the blood rain spilling down through the roof. Though if I try to ride that embankment I'll have some height on him. A jumping drive-by would make the audience roar pretty good, and if I can't jump it I can bank up and then slide off, shootin'.

I hit my thrust to make some more noise. Like I'm saying 'here I come!'

Rich

Dog,

That sounds like a neat trick! Let's see you Act Under Fire here. On a 10+, you pull off an amazing jumping drive-by, deal your damage and Balance never saw it coming. On a 7-9, you jump the embankment and he sees you, you'll both trade fire.

On a miss, you wreck your h-bike. That would not be good, Dog. Trust me.

halcy

Acting Under Fire; (Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 4, 3. Total: 9)

Rich

Dog,

Though your ankle is screaming with fire and your hands still sting from the short circuit, you hop the embankment and fire down on Balance. He fires up at you, the last moment before you gun him down, the spray from his machine pistol sprays wild, but a couple shots from the burst hit you, once in the chest, the second in the left shoulder (that's 3-Harm, so after armor, should be 1-Harm coming your way).

You land on the other side of the buggy, and whip your head around to see Balance's buggy still driving forward, his body slumped over the wheel, blood seeping out of his brainpan.

The crowd erupts in celebration, and as the rain pours down on Safeco, they chant the name of "Dog! Dog! Dog!" Guns are fired. People fight over lost bets. Some thrown safecoins into the arena, Dog, others throw bits of food, even a bottle of hooch, a pair of underwear, too.

What do you do?

halcy

I keep my gun trained on Balance till I see his headwound and how it's not for play-play. My gun gets lowered slow-like and holstered as I watch the buggy ride forward and stop against the side of the arena, wheels pushin' mud. I ride alongside it, my bike lively and spry next to the bloodless wander of Balance's ride. When it's stopped I reach in, take that beaded shotty, and nudge his leg off the go-pedal.

I ain't gonna scramble for safecoins and food bits, but I smirk at it all. They goin' crazy in the seats. My bike's nose pops up a little and we reverse out from near the buggy. I do a lap around the track, taking it a little slower to pick up that hooch. My shoulder twinges at me, but victory numbs the pain.

The fight plays over in my head. The parts where I skirted it close. My aim, my riding, my awareness, my psych game. Stuff I coulda done a little better. Stuff I coulda done a lot worse.

Truth is I like my face. People see it and take me for a chump, or a crazy person, or a scary person, or an ugly person, and that's all to my advantage.

I grin to Belka when I get back to my entrance where she's waiting, laugh a little and toss her the hooch. Then I throw back my head and howl.

Oh, I howl.

Rich

Dog,

Belka howls with you, like a pair of wolves in a pack. You hear other howls, from Arrows in the crowd, or just outside. Within the noise, you hear gunshots. First, they seem like part of the party, then you see the flags of the Tax Patrol in the crowd, set apart as before, but now, there are Inside Gangers surrounding them. The one who was Balance's second, he's in his buggy, looking for a way out of this mess. He takes off driving for the open area that leads out of the stadium into the ruined on.

What do you do?

halcy

Balance's second is safe from me as long as he's not starting any floods. I promised Bon I'd see her after, and even though I know it's complete bloody muck there's a sacredness to the ring I won't violate. I ain't startin' nothin' with anyone till I'm offa this mud.

Admiral. What a bastard, hah! Makes me wonder things 'bout today. Still, Inside Gang is welcome to all that splash. I sign out before Belka and I work our way through the exit, ::ARROWS ARE THE BEST. Visiting Bon, be back at hideout for pile.::

Rich

Dog,


::Great fight, Dog!:: Belka signs as she watches Balance's partner ride off under a hail of gunfire. The Tax Patrol took a big blow today, but they're far from done.

Grunge and Rainey raise fists in salute, then Rainey throws an arm around the newest Arrow and kisses her cheek. Grunge gives a confused look, but doesn't throw her any trouble.

Belka gets your attention, ::We riding to the clinic? Or stow bikes and walk?::

halcy

::Thanks!:: Balance was no joke.

I raise a fist to Grunge and Rainey in return.

::My leg's a bit soaked. I don't want people seeing me limp, so let's ride, but slow.:: I also don't want to leave my bike someplace with nobody competent to watch it.

Rich

Dog,

That Tax Patroller rides out into the rain to get away, but he's probably in deep trouble out there. You ride out of the arena and through the garage, taking a back way

Please go here.