[DVFP] Riding East to Junk (C 3.2, G 3.5)

edited January 2017 in aw2e-dvfp
After chatting with Esco, you head out to swagman, which is parked in the open space near the north gate, where folks don't pay the garage to watch their shite. You're Gigg, they won't mess with your car, right?

You head past a few United Front gangers who have a truck parked right beside swamag, looks like this:

One's sitting in the passnger side huffing on a bong while another is under the hood. A third's going through some of their stuff stowed on top of the roof. They give you a side-eye, but don't say anything. The Union Jack's painted all over their ride and their gear. There's some punk music blaring from their ride.

Mimi isn't around, not where you can see her, at least. Probably saw this and decided to hide out. Or maybe they already got her? What do you do?


  • Fug it all to the blazes, UF'ers! I'm sure they spooked Mimi and she's hiding out somewhere. I look around, scanning the distance, not really expecting to see her, but maybe if she's watching she'll give a signal.

    I'm more concerned with how I can get these gang bangers to clear outta here, paving the way for Mimi to get to the swagman. And maybe just maybe if I'm really lucky, a chance for a quick rhyme and steal off their truck -- if they're stupid enough to leave it unattended. These UF'ers have gotten really cocky of late, thinking they run the Depot and all that. If Mimi's right, they got a major burn-on to hunt her down. So, maybe I can get 'em to bite on a little outdated information...

    Just gotta figure out which one of these blazebrains looks like the biggest idiot... and anything else I can tell about their situation.

    OOC: Read a Sitch, roll+sharp
    (Rolled: 2d6. Rolls: 1, 3. Total: 4)
  • OOC: Which enemy is most vulnerable to me?
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    Passenger side UFer is the chump, obviously the most vulnerable. However, the one under the hood has a shotgun strapped to the hood, easy reach, and the one on the roof is strapped, too.

    You do spot Mimi, though. She's hiding behind some Skorpion bikes, and the bikers are making their way towards them now.

    What do you do?
  • Ugh. Wrong place, wrong time, Mimi... Well, that plan where I send those UF'ers on a wild goose chase hunting Mimi down by the Shady Shops is no good... those Skorps will see her hiding in their bike row in just a minute. What I need now is what Chaz calls a diverzion...

    Skorps to the left, UF'ers to the right. What I need right now is a good old fashioned turf war... and there's already a good healthy rivalry between these two groups. But what could set 'em off at each others throats? Do I dare ask Pops? Running outta time. Don't think I have any choice.

    Whipping my little mirror out of momma's purse, "Pops, I need a diversion about right now, drawing off both these UF'ers and Skorps. What do you think?"

    OOC: Norman, roll+weird
    (Rolled: 2d6+1. Rolls: 3, 6. Total: 10)
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    "Skorpions hate UFers, specially right now," Pops says in your ear, the grit in his voice seems warmer than last time. "Enemy o' yer enemy, son. Aint nobody gonna blink if ya wipe out these UFers in Depot."
  • Buses, vans, box trucks... they all blendin' together. I hear Chaz' voice in my ear, too, "like juicy fruit that needs to be plucked." Just a bunch of fugging cowboys, these UF'ers, as I nod quickly in the mirror. Yeah, them Skorps don't give a rat's arse. Suddenly I feel like I'm baking in the sun, feels like its 140 inside this mask, but my strategy is as clear as the cloudless desert sky.

    If I'm quick enough this'll be over with in 10 seconds. Just gonna step over and cave in the skull of that fugger under the hood, draw his shotgun and blow away the motherfugger on the roof, and then smash through the windshield and drag that bonghead through before he can even exhale. "Easy easy," says Chaz again in my ear.

    Just before putting the mirror away, I turn and find Mimi again hiding among the bikes and I catch the sun with the mirror, signaling to her. Hopefully, when she sees me unload on these fuggers, she'll understand to high tail it to swagman.

    Putting away the mirror shard in momma's purse, I drop it in the front seat of swagman, lean my hockey stick against the roll cage, and turn and walk the few steps to the truck's hood, coming all scary as fuck, my wrench now unclipped and swinging in my hand at this fugger's head...

    OOC: The move Rasputin should trigger I believe.

    Also, when I consulted Pops using the move Norman and rolled a 10, I get to mark XP and take +1 forward if I do as the mask wishes. This marks my 5th XP and my Advance will be to take the Gunlugger move NOT TO BE FUCKED WITH, which means I now count as a small gang in battle.

    Not sure if this is Sucker Someone, Go Aggro on Someone, or some battle move. Let me know what you think and I'll roll accordingly.
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    You sucker the gal under the hood, bringing the wrench down towards her head, she never saw it coming. Fuggin' huffer in the passenger seat spews smoke before he can get out a warning, but he's reaching for something. The one up on the roof grabs a pistol quick quick, but not so fast to save his buddy.

    The wrench cracks at the back of her head. You see blood squirt up onto the inside of the hood. Her body jerks once, and she drops to a knee, then falls to the ground, she curls into a fetal position and she's probably done.

    Now, you enter battle. Pops is screaming in your ear, anticipating the slaughter. You catch Mimi moving from her hiding spot, drawing out a knife and heading around towards the back of the truck. She's not going to sit there idly while you muderlize these cowboys. Let's see you Seize this truck By Force.

    OOC: I posted the wrong pic for their vehicle earlier. It's fixed now, so check out the top of the thread for that.
  • OOC: Sieze by Force, roll+hard w/+1 forward
    (Rolled: 2d6+3. Rolls: 1, 2. Total: 6)
  • Ugh... well, I still get to choose 1 at least:

    I inflict terrible harm (+1 harm)
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    Bonghit grabs an SMG from the glove compartment and climbs up on the hood, spraying and praying as he screams bloody murder for the girl you just ka-thunked. You feel the pitter patter of bullets raining down (2-Harm, but you take 0-Harm, please roll the Harm move) as you sweep the wrench around and take out his knees. He doesn't have time to yelp before you bring the hockey stick down like a sword and crack his neck.

    The guy up on the roof digs out what looks like a mortar and a big shell, Gigg. He's going to try and slam it home and drop it in your damn lap. You see Mimi clambering up from behind, but she's not going to be fast enough.

    What do you do?
  • OOC: Harm, roll+harm
    (Rolled: 2d6. Rolls: 6, 6. Total: 12)
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    One of those bullets got through that mess of armor you've got, Gigg. You feel it like somebody stuck their thumb in the hole, and they're wiggling it around just to fug with you. You've got 1-Harm from that bullet now, and you'll need to get it removed.
  • I feel the bullet get through a seam between the pelts and old riot gear, and somewhere in the back of my mind, I suppose I feel the burn and pain of the slug. But pain is really a state of mind and right now my state of mind is wholly fixed on taking out this motherfugger looking to launch a damn artillery shell at me. I've got Chaz' voice in one ear, and Pops in the other, and even the visual of Mimi scrambling up the back of the truck lookin' to get in on the action are all feeding my frenzied state.

    I'm ticked at myself, too, for underestimating the blazebrain with the bong. Didn't expect him to come out spraying machine gun fire at me, and that gave the fugger on the roof time to bring out a BFG and now I'm up shite's creek. Who even knew the UF'ers had hardware like this anyway?

    Well, the plan all along was to use the shotgun strapped to the hood to take out this roof rat, and that still seems like my best option at this point. I think I'm too late to wrench that mortar away before he fires off that big momma, but maybe I'm quick enough at least to get ahead of the game... scramble past it or dodge my way around and maybe just get the blowback from behind -- stick a shotgun in this fugger's face and end this quick enough to get the blazes outta here before this place gets locked down.

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    Gigg, you try to snatch the shotgun from it's little holder, but the damn thing's wedged, so you have to yank twice before it comes free. You bring the shotgun up, but you see the fugger's lowering that mortar's mouth towards you, the shell moving towards the hole. You're gonna die. Pops screams unintelligible curses in your ears. Mimi's about to tackle him, but she's too slow, too.

    You see your momma's eyes, trusting and worried.

    You see Lala's eyes looking up at you right before you gun her down.

    You see the eyes of your own killer, his slavering mouth right before he rains hell down on you.


    His head snaps to the right at an odd angle, and his eyes roll. Blood sprays out of the side of his neck, and he tries to focus his eyes on you before he falls. He tries to make fingers work, but the spinal cord's severed and all that's left to do is die. Mimi slams into him from behind, a feral snarl and then she's stabbing him with all the fury of three days starving and scared and hurt and lonely.

    You glance over to movement to the left and right. To your left is Cinch, her pistol still smoking. To the right is a UF biker, who sure as shite saw this, and he takes off, the loud whine of his engine burbling as he chews up dirt and zips through the open gate.
  • edited January 2017

    I see Gig's masked visage look my way and nod, a grimace on my face ad Mimi stabs and stabs that guy...

    I follow the biker with my pistol, but there's no way I'm shootin' either way. I curse to myself and let him go. "Damn... fuggin..."

    "Y'all in one piece?" I call out to Gigg and Mimi. Still tryin' to sort out who's with who here. But if I gotta choose sides in this thing, I hope 'I'm comin' out on the right side.
  • Cinch! I'd recognize her anywhere. I remember every one of the handful of days she's stopped by the junkyard to grab a piece of sheet metal, spot weld a loose piece of armor, or pull a part from one of the old wrecks. For a moment, I'm stunned that my limbs are not scattered all over The Depot; that Cinch gave a fug enough to shoot down a UF'er in broad daylight to save my skin. I give a quick thumbs up to Cinch, and then as I fully realize what just happened, some sort of divine intervention, I raise an arm over my head, shotgun in hand and give a few celebratory pumps.

    The UF'er speeding off on the bike calls me back to the task at hand. Time is scarce and I hope Cinch will let me make it up to her next time we cross paths. I owe her everything now...

    I look up on the truck roof at Mimi, lost in frenzied bloodlust, "Mimi, swagman. Now! Let's go! I jerk my head toward swagman parked next to the truck. I know what's she feeling when you finally have a chance to get back at everything that's been robbed from you. "Follow me to the Junkyard, I'm driving this truck outta here! C'mon, we gotta be gettin' now." I grab the bonghead's SMG off the hood and that rat's mortar from the roof, and throw them both into the front seat of the truck, and climb behind the wheel with the shotgun in my lap. I'm tryin' not to salivate at what other heavies might be stowed up on the roof. Like Mimi with that roofer, my time's coming with the Fat Man.

    As I fire the engine on this semi, I give Cinch a salute and another thumbs up.

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    Mimi pulls a pistol off mortar guy's corpse, then she drops down when you try to move to the driver's side of the truck, "No!" She puts her hand in your face. "There's a key sequence, or the engine will blow, Gigg! I bet they changed it since I ran! Come on, let's go!" She tries to pull you back towards swagman.

    Oh, and Cinch, she hasn't seen you, or she's ignoring you, hard to tell.
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    Finally I lower my weapon as Gigg starts talking. I figure his danger sense, or whatever, is probably keener than mine.

    I whistle, one of those loud ones you do with a couple'a fingers. Give it a second silence, then, "I don't wanna keep y'all from your important business but maybe have a mind to fill me in here? Like just the headlines?"
  • edited January 2017
    I shudder thinking that in the space of 30 seconds I almost got blowed up twice. I'm off my game, clearly. Staring down a primed mortar tube shook me up more than I figured. That, or maybe tryin' to show off in front of ole Cinch over there.

    Mimi's got it together at the moment. "Thanks, Mims. Let's just get out while the gettin's still good. Hate to leave all that scrounge up top, but I'm really buggin' about right now..." I look out the truck window past Mimi, "And Cinch ain't shootin' and shufflin'. She might not be a fipper no more, but it feels weird just rhymin' and stealin' in front of her like this."

    I grab the SMG, shotgun, and mortar and bail out of the truck for swagman, calling out to Cinch, "Yo Cinch, nice shootin'! Gotta get my friend outta The Depot 'fore more of them cowboys show up. We owe you a night a'drinkin'. Catch ya at the Irons soon, yeah?".

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    Hate it when people mention that, gets a little frustrated breath outta me. But I try not to call attention to it.

    "Sure. Gtfo while the gettin's good huh?" I comment while walking a bit nearer.

    I try to catch Mimi's eye. "Mimi!" I gesture at her and at me, "we gotta have words. I ain't your enemy." Try to sound as sincere as possible. I'm still confused and a bit riled up about the match. I say with finality, "Irons."

    Will see her there.

    Since when are they friends? I shake my head and nod before quickly heading for the garage.
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    Cinch, Mimi has only one middle finger now. She shows it to you, with a sneer, then runs off towards swagman.

    Yes, Gigg, you totally saw that.
  • I watch Mimi run off to swagman after her big flip off, and then I look back to Cinch and cock my head quizzically. "Does everybody already know everybody? Sorry Cinch, she's had a rough coupla days. Thanks again. I owe ya. If ya a need a favor, look me up at the 'Yard, ok?"

    I turn and join Mimi at swagman, tossing all the new guns into the hold. "Careful reaching back there, I got a blazin' mad rattler tied up in a sack." It's good to have a real live, breathing girl in swagman's passenger seat, even if she is missin' an arm. This must be what it feels like to be Esco, I think to myself (having no inkling what it's like to be Esco at all) and I fire up swagman's engine and goose the gas. A black Megahol plume erupts from swagman's baja stinger tailpipe. Turning to Mimi, "I guess you got some bad histry with Cinch, huh? But that was rude. She saved us by the bell back there, 'specially me. Next time we cross her shade, you need to appreciate on her some. Me 'an you ain't got many friends, ya know. "

    I shove swagman in gear, and as soon as I clear the open gate, I look over at Mims and shout above the whine of the supercharger, "Watch what swagman can do, Mims...." And I crack open the nitrous valve and smile a big grin behind my mask.
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    I don't react to Mimi's gesture. As a courier you know I get flipped my fair share of fingers. She has no idea, though, that I don't hate her.

    To Gigg, "yeah, seems like, huh? Pretty sure her rough days started when she ran into me... I jus'wanna set things straight."

    I nod in acceptance of his offer, "will do. Ride hard'n keep 'em on your six."

    But they're gone before I can do much more talkin... what is it about today?

    I take a second. Look at the truck and the carnage... if this was open road I'd be all over scavenging what I could use. But here in Depot? Naw... gonna get my ass outta here and find Esco... high rent or not.
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    Cinch, It takes a bit to find Esco's room, but eventually you find him and knock on the door. Please go here.
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    "Cinch and me raced, Gigg." Mimi says over the roar of swagman's engine. "I coulda beat her in Arena. I was gonna zoom high on the wall and crash her ass, but June messed with my head!" She starts to say more but then you pour on the speed and she's thrown back in her seat.

    And she starts giggling with the thrill of it all.

    You get to junkyard quick quick and she piles out, looking around curiously at all of it. What do you do?
  • edited January 2017
    I leave the shotgun on the driver's seat and make a mental note about finding something in the 'Yard that I can strap to my leg as a makeshift holster. It's already sawn-off, so I should be able to fit some that works. Need to dig a pit to throw Sammie the Snake in. He's gonna have to eat soon, and be able to get some shade.

    I grab the mortar and unload the shell, and look over at Mimi who's stretching her limbs, and looking to be taking in some big drinks of freedom. "I know its far from High Rent, but you want the Grand Tour? It's your lucky day, it's Open House so free admission!"
  • edited January 2017
    When Mimi stretches, she opens her mouth wide and her tongue curls back as she yawns and takes a big breath. You ask her if she wants a tour and she does a half shrug (best she can manage with just one arm) and answers, "Sure, Gigg. Water would be good, too. Do you sleep under this somewhere? Any rats for eating?"
  • "Right this way to the suite." I lead Mimi to the big rusted out yellow school bus hulk, where I have a pit dug out underneath. It's about four feet deep and basically runs the length between the front and rear axles. There's a couple of the bus bench seats that I yanked out that use for sleeping and sitting on, cut down the legs and made into futon-like beds and sofas, and few prized toys I've collected over the years - some army men, a Noah's ark mobile, some Hot Wheels cars and few tracks and handheld game console that doesn't have batteries. There's a few dirty and well-worn comic books scattered about, and one photograph in a dusty frame with a cracked glass. A couple of old plastic milk crates serves as a makeshift pantry, and hold a few dozen canned goods -- beans, spaghetti-o's, sour kraut, corn, and a few soups. Mostly the labels are gone, so supper is generally a surprise.

    "That's where I sleep, there. In that hole. The bus keeps it shady and even a few feet underground keeps it cooler. There's a big water bladder hidden under the bus where the transmission used to be. Got some canned food down there, too. Help yourself. Your welcome to sleep down there, if you want. I'll let you get some water and some food. There's an opener in that glove box I ripped out of an old Super Beetle. Spoons and forks in there, too. Maybe a cup. There's some old shop rags in that pasteboard box in the corner you can use to freshen up a little if you like. I need to stow this big fuggin gun away in a safe place and get some scrounge together. I'll let you have some time to chill. Just come find me when you are ready to see the rest of the palace grounds."

    Once Mimi and I finish chatting, I wanna store that mortar in that old Caddy car trunk that locks and I have a key for -- the one that I have Esco's fancy tableware in that now needs to get moved to swagman as barter to get that 50-cal fixed.

    I got few other things to keep me busy while Mimi gets settled -- setting up a natural habitat for Sammie in the trunk of that Caddy, making sure there's no way he can escape, maybe some rocks and sand and such Then set some rat traps, and find where Last planted Lala. Figure out a good hidey-hole in swagman to stash the SMG in case a fella, a quick fella might need a hidden weapon some time.

    ... and then there's the business of this bullet buried in my left pect. It's hurtin' like a motherfugger now, and seeping blood and mucus. One arm or not, Mimi's gonna have to dig this fugger out. I think I got a jar of 'shine in the shed... I'll get that, too!
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    Mimi heads for the water, seems mystified by all of the things you scrounged out here. A little impressed, even. She's quiet now, still leery of treats, but no longer aggressive. You have the feeling she's torn between casing this joint for what to take, and giving this an actual try.

    How do you ask her to pull that bullet, Gigg?
  • Yeah I give her 50-50 she's just here rhymin' and stealin'. But aside from swagman and the few really valuable things I've got locked in the Caddy truck, there ain't nothing else here I'd really miss that she'd wanna take. As for swagman, Chaz didn't have no fancy passkey rigs to blow. He just mounted a hidden 12v switch inline to the fuel pump. Swagman'll crank right up, but she won't barely make it out of the 'Yard before what little fuel in the fuel bowl runs out.

    Speaking of fuel... Chaz always took care of Megahol, and I ain't got no idea where to get more gas and even how much it cost. Maybe something Mims can help me with...

    After pittlin' around for an hour or so, I go out to the shed where I keep some of the more interesting scrounge. There's an old arc wielder in there with 10kW gas-powered generator. It barely gets used. I use it ever now and then when I get crafty, and Cinch and few others have been know to do quick fix spot welds once a blue moon. There's a bunch of old tools and ropes and chains in there, and an old tube TV and VCR. That's mostly why I go out to the shed. But hidden under some old wooden crates is a flat of 12 mason jars of Woleski Death Valley Moonshine. Accordin' to Chaz it's the best shine ever made in the DV and he swiped this flat and stashed it here in case he got raided. Neither Woleski or Chaz is still alive, which is both sad and ironic. But I have what might the only 12 jars left. I don't really care for it. Tastes like firewater to me, and when Chaz made me drink with him it was non-stop Pops for days it seemed. I grab a jar -- this should kill all the germs on the stuff Mims is gonna use to dig out this bullet.

    I wander back to my hidey-hole with a jar of Woleski's finest and see what Mims is up to...

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    You find Mimi has fallen asleep sitting up in the bus. Probably the first restful sleep she's had in a while. Her cloak's fallen off and you get a decent view of her shoulder joint. Whoever did the work didn't care much to make it pretty. There's scar tissue all around it and angry cuts of flesh that are uneven, like somebody hacked off her arm and shoved in a fuggin' bolt of some kind that they fused to her skeleton. The bolt has some signs of rust, which could cause some trouble down the road.
  • A peacefulness washes over me as I stare at my sleeping guest. I feel her weariness too, and it drives my own into the forefront. I've kept myself busy, but now I'm just flat tired, and my shoulder is throbbing and stiffening. It's been awhile since there's been a sleeping girl at the Junkyard, and the thought of that makes me really miss my momma.

    No way I'm waking up Mimi. She looks like one of them barbie dolls I find in the junk from time-to-time, missing an arm, but a big ole' exposed socket looking all kinds of wrong. I know all about that, don't I, momma? Even still, she's pretty in the junkyard.

    I drop down into my bunker under the bus, stow the Wolenksi shine in the pantry, and curl up on my re-purposed bus seat. I reach for the photo in the frame with the cracked glass, and I stare silently into the faded and ancient picture for a few minutes and then hold it close to my body -- and just let go, hunting for the comfort of momma's heartbeat out in the psychic maelstrom.

    OOC: The Mother's Heartbeat, roll+weird
    (Rolled: 2d6+1. Rolls: 3, 2. Total: 6)
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    Dreams of Lala and your mother tumble over and over through your head, but something's in the way of it. Maybe it's that broken Barbie doll you keep seeing?

    You're woken by the sound of dozens of cans clanging together, Gigg. Someone's hit your tripwires on the north of the yard. You hear Mimi moving in the bus, but then she's quiet. Probably heard it, too.

    When you move to get a vantage point, you see them. Sand Snakes. The Obsidians. They're is about a dozen of them, you think, hard to tell without moving higher. They've fanned out, and they're picking through the junk carefully while watching out. Mimi creeps closer to you, she's grabbed one of your weapons (which one?).

    What went wrong with you and the Obsidians last time you met? Who's fault was it?

    And, of course, what do you do?
  • Sand Snakes?!? What the fug are they doing scrounging the 'Yard? Have I been gone too much lately? When the cat's away the mice will play...

    I see Mimi drawing near. She still has that pistol she scrounged off the dead UF mortar dude, and I'm hoping she doesn't do something stupid. There's a lot of 'em out there. I'm content to try to stay hidden and let them pick through the junk until they finally leave. Deal with them another time when I have the advantage, but that may or may not work out, and Mimi is the big X factor here.

    I motion to Mimi to stay put and stay hidden. I've got my wrench clipped to my belt and my hockey stick in the hole with me. I've also got a holstered sawed-off shotgun, and the rifle I scrounged from the gunner of the box truck we heisted from Ziggy. With any luck, they won't see me in the hole under the school bus, and I have a pretty good shielded place to snipe from if a shite-storm goes down.

    It don't feel right lettin' 'em have their way with the 'Yard, and it sure ain't gonna make Mimi feel safe here. Maybe I can snipe their leader, or figure something out. I'm prolly gonna have to do somethin', but for now I take a few minutes to watch them and survey this developing situation.
  • OOC: Read a Sitch, roll+sharp
    (Rolled: 2d6. Rolls: 2, 5. Total: 7)
  • Which enemy is the biggest threat?
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    Biggest threat? This guy:
    His name is Tusk. He is the brother of the Obsidian's leader, a crack shot with his rifle, and a veteran of many battles. He's been shot dozens of times, but he's still alive and kicking.

    Mimi's near you now, that pistol held at the ready. She's whisper quiet, the food, water, and sleep have done her a world of good, and she's ready to defend this place with you.

    What do you do?
  • I look over at Mimi who's now dropped in the bunker with me, and I see the resolve and fight in her eyes. She's lost a crap-ton, but yet here she is geared up, not rolling over, not giving up. She deserves I make the right call on this.

    These Obsidians are not to be trifled with, and Tusk looks formidible. For the first time since Chaz rolled into the Junkyard on that fateful day, I'm not sure that I'm coming out on the winning side of this one. I open mama's purse and pull out my shard of glass, barely able to make out my reflection in the waning light. I need to see what Pops thinks I should do, but Mimi's gonna think I'm asking her -- which is fine too. I'd like to hear what her take is. "What do you think? Sit tight and hope they don't find us? Surprise ambush while we have the drop on them? Try to negotiate with their leader, maybe offer them a gift? Or try to make a run for swagman and get the fug outta here? There's a lot of 'em, they appear to be armored and well-armed, and one thing's clear, if we make a stand and fight it ain't gonna be pretty."
  • OOC: Norman, roll+weird
    (Rolled: 2d6+1. Rolls: 6, 1. Total: 8)
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    "Fuggin' Tusk! That sunnuvabitch needs to be put down. Do it, son. Get up there are mash his head in!"
    Mimi, who does think you're asking her for advice, says quietly, "You've got good stuff here. Offer them something. We, I mean the United Front, they have traded with the Obsids before. Give 'em a gun and they'll leave."
    What do you do?

  • My dander is definitely up, and Pops is basically right. Who the fug does this Tusk think he is, anyway? I cut a look at Mimi, "Yeah, trade is one thing, Mims. But this don't look like they are here to trade. That look like they are here to take. If these sneaky snakes showed up a UF HQ and just starting picking through to take what they wanted, I'm guessing your buds would be shootin' first and askin' questions later, amirite?"
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    "They aren't my fuggin buds," Mimi answers testily. "But no, they'd trounce these snakes. Cept, there's whole ton more Fronters than us two." She peers at you in the dim light of dusk and realizes you're set on a thing, then she puts the pistol between her legs to reach down, pop the mag, check it, put it back, then check her safety. She nods. "Dying in a fuggin' junkyard. Seems about right."
  • "Well, I ain't 'bout dying in my own Junkyard, so fug that. Besides, I got unfinished business. If I'm a-dyin', it's gonna be in the muthafuggin' Palace."

    I quickly lay out my plan to Mimi, "I'm gonna take aim and drop that fugger Tusk with this rifle. Then I'm gonna make a run for swagman, while you lay down fire with that pistol. Once I get to swagman, I got a SMG hidden there, and I'll start her up and lay down fire so you can make a run for the buggy. Then we'll get the fug outta here.

    I doubt the Obsids wanna move into the Junkyard and make this Sand Snake Resort, so we'll just come back later and get some things I've got hidden away that these snakes won't find. We ain't gonna Butch-n-Sundance it here the 'Yard, but we'll bloody their nose, make 'em think twice, and live to fight another day. Whaddya think? Can ya get behind that?
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    "Sounds better than shoot Tusk and then shoot the others. Hey, where's that fuggin' mortar? " She peers out towards three Obsids moving closer, grips her pistol and looks to you, ready to cover your six.
    What do you do?
  • I know what's she's thinking and it's tempting as hell. Future plans for the mortar don't mean shite if you ain't got no future. "Mortar is locked away in a hidey-hole. And it's guarded by my mad-as-hell rattlesnake. It'd take some stealth gettin' to it, and time, and risk. I was plannin' on leaving it and comin' back for it later. Besides, I got big plans on using it later.

    Why? Whaddya thinking?
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    "Any fuggin' day now, sunshine! Stop jawing at Slot Machine and get Tusk while the gettin's good!"
    Mimi glances back at those three, "This plan's better than the perfect plan, 'cause we got no time. Go on, I'll cover you. Hope your shoelaces are tied." She braces her arm against a window on the bus and starts taking aim, slowly aiming at one, then the other, then the last Obsid, then over again, practicing her shots slowly as she waits for you to fire on Tusk.

    Let's see you Go Aggro on Tusk here, Gigg. You've got that +1 from Pops/
  • OOC: Go Aggro on Someone, roll+hard
    (Rolled: 2d6+3. Rolls: 5, 3. Total: 11)
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    The rifle reports hard, sending a bullet through Tusks left shoulder. From the spray behind him, looks like a through and through. He drops down behind a fridge, yelling in some weird language to his people. Mimi fires her pistol, smoothly hitting two of the Obsids before the third jumps out of her line of fire. They all duck down, start moving cautiously. You bought some time. But how long?

    "Go finish him off, son! Get in tight and rip off his damn head!""

    What do you do?
  • It's hard to think clearly with Pops so loud in my ear. Mostly, it's just easy to follow orders. And... he's prolly on to something... if I move in and cave Tusk's skull in, these other snakes might turn and beat it outta here. But, part of me is concerned about getting tunneled on Tusk and opening myself to gettin' shot up by half-a-dozen of these other fuggers. Mostly I just wanna get Mimi outta here and to a safer place. This ain't her fight...

    "I shot him up, Pops, and he's hurtin' but he ain't down." The time I bought shootin' up Tusk might be just what I need to get to swagman and get Mimi outta here.

    For a moment everything fades to black and I just see an old refrigerator flinging into several pieces and me on top of a surprised Tusk shoving a sawed-off shotgun down his throat and pulling the trigger... standing up mask and torso covered in bits of a brain bone and tusk.

    I don't remember what happened next or how long everything was black, but I wake up in a full run towards that fridge Tusk is behind and yelling at the top of my lungs, "GET YO UGLY ASS OUTTA MY JUNKYARD, YOU MUTHAFUGGIN SANDSNAKE!!!!"

    OOC: Intent to trigger Rasputin and Oh Yeah!, and use my +1 from acting on answers from Read a Sitch for the Oh Yeah roll.
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    Doooo it!
  • OOC: Oh Yeah!, roll+hard w/+1 forward
    (Rolled: 2d6+3. Rolls: 5, 6. Total: 14)
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    You bellow and charge forward, over junk and debris. Obsidians see you, half of them shirk back or duck away, while the rest fire on you with panic. Bullets pepper you (2-Harm plus size difference for gang is 3, but taken down to 0 for armor and Rasputin, please roll Harm-0).

    Mimi's firing fast and sure, pinging Obsidians and ducking back down before they can return fire. You're still charging, and you see Tusk as he scoots back, trying to bring his AK up to bear, but you charge over the entire fuggin refrigerator, knocking it into him, crashing it down on him. He lies there stunned with the fridge over his legs, the door broken beside him.

    You've got him dead to rights. The rest of the Obsidians are coming back towards you, firing and screaming in panic like "oh gods please kill it dead, don't let it come after me!"

    What do you do?
  • OOC: Harm
    (Rolled: 2d6. Rolls: 2, 1. Total: 3)
  • Once again the Junkyard fades from the dusky mayhem of hooping war cries, and panicked screams, and automatic rifle fire into the blackness of a starlit desert night. There I am, just a little teeter, no more'n six or seven, in a far remote part of the 'Yard, a makeshift pitch fork in my hand, made from some old rebar and railroad spikes tack welded together. I'm chasing rats as they scamper in a panic through the piles of metal and rubber and plastic. In the distance, the faint sounds of cowboys sogging and drinking and occasionally shootin' their guns off in the sky. I got a dozen hidey-holes scattered throughout the wreckage. This part of the 'yard belongs to me, and rarely do any of those rascals wander from their mates and their gals and their booze and their dope. But sometimes they do. My little teeter self runs off into the night, still brandishing that metal trident, a dripping trail back to some unlucky cowboy crumpled in the dust, groping at the gurgling coming from his throat...

    A wave of sound rolls through me like a sandstorm, the mayhem of the sandsnakes everywhere. There's a smoking shotgun laying in the dirt next to the fridge door amid splatter of chunks of red and white and gray. I'm screaming something at the top of my lungs, something about stayin' and dyin'. I've now got Tusk's AK brandished in my right hand, and I'm holding Tusk's headless body up in front of me with my left hand, like some a full-body meat shield between me and their frenzied rain of bullets. The AK in my right hand fires a burst into the air, and I start walking slowly back towards the mob, singing the words to Stairway to Heaven softly and calmly.
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    There's a moment of pause when you hold the head up. Twenty plus eyes peer from cover and between pieces of junk and see what's happened to Tusk.

    Then you start walking towards them, singing and walking, and that spooks a couple of them, they turn and flee into the desert. Let's see you Go Aggro on the others, keep up this terror to drive them off.
  • OOC: Go Aggro on Someone, roll+hard
    (Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 6, 2. Total: 10)
  • edited January 2017

    Yeah, that's good enough. The Obsidians see their heavy hitter blown to bits and you're Rasputing the hell out of things and they cut and run. Mimi wastes the rest of her clip tagging a few of them in the back, and in a minute or so, they're all gone. Leaving you huffing with adrenaline, a number of aches and pains.

    What do you do?
  • I toss Tusk's headless body to the side and collect my still smoking shotgun from where I dropped it near the busted fridge. Holstering the shotgun, I walk pass swagman and deposit Tusk's AK into the hold, and amble back over to Mimi standing near the school bus with her still smoking pistol in her hand.

    I stop when I get close to her, mask and torso splattered with Tusk's blood, and bits of bone and brain matter. Out of breath, I bend and rest by hands on my knees, and look up at her, chuckling and laughing. "We feckin' did it, Mims. You were muthafuggin Doc Holiday, girl. A regular fuggin' gunslinger. No way I do that with you. Seems like we make a pretty good team, huh?" I drop to the sandy ground and roll over onto my back, arms and legs spread, still laughing out loud with the joy and the relief of living through something you expected would kill ya. I'm staring up at the desert night sky, electric with thousands of stars and Mimi standing over me.

    "Shall we scrounge the dead for weapons, ammo, and supplies?"
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    Mimi nods curtly, "Fug yeah," she replies after checking the ammo in her pistol. "Think I saw another nine. And hell, we can sell this shite back to them. Dumbasses." She hops up from her hiding spot in the bus and heads out to spot the ones she dropped, then helps you with your kills, too.
    Once you've cleared it, it is well and truly dark, Gigg.

    What do you do?
  • edited January 2017
    I emerge from a nearby part of the 'yard with half a dozen lengths of thick scrap rebar. "Here, help me skewer these snakes, will ya? I'm gonna string 'em up outside the Junkyard. It's been a long time since somebody came into here actin' like this place belonged to them. Time to put up some warnin' signs."

    As Mimi and I turn these dead Obsidians into shish kebobs and mount them outside the Junkyard fence, I talk to her about my concerns with sticking around much longer. "Listen, Mimi, I know I said you'd be safe here at the Junkyard, and that's what I really thought. I mean, no one has bothered me here in years. This sandsnake attack has got me really spooked, and after that shite that went down with those UF'ers, I'm afraid they might be the next to show up here looking for blood. I know they are huntin' you, and I'm pretty sure they made us both yesterday, so I'm thinking first light we gotta cook this place and let it cool down. Disappear a while, you know?"

    OOC: Rich, what was our scrounge on barter and gear?
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    Mimi isn't able to help much with toting bodies around, but she keeps an eye out for you as you do the grisly work. She does ask, "If you're staking these idiots, then why burn the yard and run? Seems like a whole lotta effort for no gain."

    Then she asks, "Where the fug would we go?"
    You find a barter's worth of gear and weapons among them.
  • "I don't mean actually burn the place down... I just meant I'm feeling like this place might be too hot. Ya think that was a coincidence these snakes came through here tonight? If they trade with UF, then, ya know... coulda been somebody wantin' a look-see at who might be hidin' out here." I shrug like I really don't know.

    After gigging all those Obsids, I start loading up swagman with all the gear and barter we scrounged, along with the mortar, the bagged rattlesnake, Esco's tablewear, and the rest of my gear and guns, including the busted 50-cal.

    "I just got a feeling the UF'ers are gonna show up here sooner rather than later. These snakes we staked up will make the Obsidians think twice, and maybe other wastelanders, but they won't scare off the UF with their heavies. You should know that more'n me, right?"

    I stop dead in my tracks while loading swagman. "Shite! I almost forgot. I'm bound to Last from the Zons to help her with a thing. If she can still get out of the Depot after that ruckus we caused, she'll probably be here by morning to collect me." I stop and move closer to see her better in the starlight, leaning on my hockey stick like it was a rake or a hoe. "So I ain't gonna be here to help protect ya. Like I said before, you're welcome to stay here as long as ya like. I'll leave ya some guns and food. But I think ya should ride with me. Maybe even drive... I'm better riding shotgun anyways."

    I motion towards the bunker under the bus. "If ya need to wink on it and tell me in the morning, that's fine. But I hope you think it through clear. In the meantime, how you feel 'bout digging a bullet outta my chest? I got some of Wolenski's 'shine in the sleeping hole that oughta sanitize whatever tools you need to use..."
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    Mimi wipes at her eyes with the back of her hand, "Hell, you might be right. UF mighta sent folks out after me and you." She listens to your plight with the Zons and huffs a derisive laugh when you admit your better at riding shotgun as if to say, "yeah, I noticed". You ask her to help with getting a bullet and you see a hint of worry on her face. Could be the dark playing tricks.

    "Sure, Gigg." Mimi answers, tone flat, hiding any worry. "You got tweezers or tongs? Or do I take a knife to you?" No matter what tool, she'll do you that favor without shirking.
    What does she end up using to pull the bullet from you?
  • Years ago I found this sweet men's grooming kit in the junk, a nice little set in a simulated leather pouch:
    Not sure if some cowboy left it here years ago when they regularly used this place for gal parties, or if it just showed up in the junk that gets dropped off here from time to time. Either way, I fetch it from a brown paper sack stacked on top of the cardboard box with the shop rags in the corner of my sleeping bunker. Mimi uses a combination of tools to dig out that bullet including the tweezers, pliers and file.

    As she concentrates on her impromptu surgery by the light of a camp lantern that I brought out of the shed and almost never use, I stare at Mimi for a long time, having the chance for the first time to really study who she is and what she wants and needs.

    OOC: Read a Person, and I'm going to stack the Lala move, and give her another hold in order to ask an extra question about Mimi (or one that isn't listed).
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    Mimi takes up the tweezers and lays them to the side, then pours some of the shine on it, she moves over to douse your chest a bit, then hands you the bottle. As she digs the bullet out amid your stifled groans of pain and discomfort, she ends up sticking her tongue out of the side of her mouth. She has no idea she's doing it, it's just this odd thing she does while concentrating on the bullet removal.

    It doesn't take long, but the feeling of someone jabbing something inside your shoulder is not something you'd wish to repeat.

    And yes, go ahead and Read Mimi here, Gigg.
  • OOC, Read a Person, roll+sharp w/extra question
    (Rolled: 2d6. Rolls: 3, 6. Total: 9)
  • OOC: Hold 1 + 1 from Lala
    What does Mimi wish I’d do?
    How could I get Mimi to trust me?
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    Right now, Mimi wishes you'd come out and tell her what you want from her. She doesn't buy this "we're loners" shite, or this "I could use a friend" thing. At first, she thought maybe you were simple and she could just use you to keep herself safe, but you've proven that you're actually not an idiot, just weird and probably fugged in the head. Not that she isn't fugged in the head herself, she knows.

    Mimi doesn't trust easy. Lala shows you how Mimi was snatched as a kid by the United Front and kept as a slave until she learned how to ride. Once she had her own bike, she tried to flee, but they caught her, tore off her arm, then bolted on a new one. Everyone she's known has tried to use her. You'll have to show her all you want is a partnership, and over time, she'll figure out you mean it.
  • "What in the name of Mike! I cry out as Mimi's hacksaw one-handed surgical "skills" presents itself in a very painful manner. There's a point where it is just hurts bad all the time and any amount of extra digging doesn't make it any more painful. It's just a solid pegged out 8 on the pain scale. Fleece is a gorrum master sawbones I think to myself as Mimi hunts and pokes with the tweeters.

    I try to grunt-talk through the extraction, partly to distract myself, and partly to come clean on some things with Mimi. "Listen, at first when I found you skulking June outside Tum's tent, I saw myself years ago as a little teeter. Here, mostly all alone, in the junkyard fending for myself. Huntin' rats to eat, steering clear of drunk and ragin' cowboys, just tryin' to stay alive. And I just wanted to help you get a new start. But after that run-in with the UF'ers and them sandsnakes, and how fun that ride out here to the 'yard in swagman was with you, I've been thinking we can be good for each other, ya know for a while at least -- while we're both transitionin'."

    I wince again and take a big breath and hold it as the pain shoots to 9. I forget to breath, holding my breath until Mimi backhands the side my head lightly and says, "Breathe, asshole.

    "You gotta see how quickly you went off the cliff when you had to go it alone, right? It's tough to stay alive all by yourself. Trust me I know. Good thing is you don't belong to them gangbangers no more, and you're more than capable of survivin' and thrivin' without 'em. Trust me, I look at you and can see that. You prolly be running you own gang one day, Mims."

    I cock up my mask just enough to get the 'shine jar to my lips and I take a sheetfire gulp, careful not to let Mimi get a clean look at my face. "As for me, I'm tryin' to make good on some bad things I've done. Not bein' such a loner helps me make better choices, I think. So, that's what I'm tryin' to do now. Help out Last and June and Esco. And now Cinch... she saved my life and she barely knows me, Mims. That ain't something I'm used to, but after losing Chaz in the flash of a ride home... it's precious."

    I pause, not because of any pain in my chest from Mimi's probings, I'm kinda numb to that pain now. I mean it hurts. I know it's there, but it's like in battle, I just don't care about it anymore. I pause because I'm overwhelmed by the sudden preciousness of someone else. I didn't even know how to say it until this moment. But for all his scamming and conning and rhymin and stealin, Chaz was precious to me. ... And Lala... and my momma... and I think others maybe too.

    "There's part of me I know ain't never gonna change at this point, but maybe I can use that to do just this one good thing I know I can do before last shade, ya know? Somebody made me into something they "grunt "Ayeee! dammit Mims... use for their own purposes, but but I can turn it around for something better. But I can't do it by myself. I just can't...." The pain will no longer be ignored I lean my head back now, full mind on staying conscience with the pain starting to peg 10. Just letting Mimi finish up now... Grunting out the last part, "I ain't tryin' ta put all that on you, Mimi... just tellin' ya straight up where I'm at..."
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    Mimi pulls back a few times when you flinch, and blood's coming out of the wound at an alarming rate. She keeps going back in, and at one point, she grunts with irritation like she's equally upset that the work isn't done. After far too long, she finally pulls something out of you and removes the tweezers, too. She pours a bit of the shine on the bullet, then peers at it in the light of that lantern.

    "What do ya know, Gigg?" Mimi says as she looks at the bullet. "Says right here - G I G G." She huffs a laugh, then hands it to you. Her fingers are covered in your blood.
  • As soon as she pulls out the bullet and bathes the hole with Wolenski's, the pain eases back into just a hot throb. I take the bullet and try to read the inscription on it before realizing she got me... "Oh! You got jokes to go with all that sass! Alright I'll remember that." As she's tearing off long strips from an old linen tablecloth and wrapping them around my chest, I turn back serious and add one more thing, "What can I do to help you, Mimi? What do you want or need that I can chip in and make happen?"
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    You tell her you'll remember her jokes and she does this sort of snort-like exhale that is a light laugh. She takes up the shine to wash off her hand, which means she holds the bottle between her knees while sitting on her butt, and rolls over so it pours out over her hand.

    You ask what she wants or needs and she says, "Right now, Gigg? Just a place to sleep safe for the night. Down the road, I want this bolt outta my shoulder, it hurts. But tonight? Just some sleep." She grunts, sits up and replaces the stopper on the bottle. "Guess we oughta trade off keepin' watch. You took a bullet, so you sleep first. You'd prolly pass out on me anyways. Once you rested up, I get to sleep for a while, yeah?"
  • I watch the gyration maneuver she pulls off just to rinse her hand clean, and I realize Gigg you a stupid muthafugger, it ain't pocket rocketry understandin' what she needs, fella. "Yeah, winks is good. " I sit up and grab one of the shop rags and wipe off the moonshine that hasn't yet evaporated off her hand. "Soon enough, I'll be takin' ya to the Irons and we'll let ole' Fleece take a look at that bolt. Ok? She'll know what to do." I shamble to the far end of the bunker and drop onto the padded bus seat, "Wake me up in a few hours when you get sleepy."
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    "Never heard of Fleece before. Only ever saw Parcher. Who is a sick fugger." Mimi stands up, stretches, then holsters her pistol in a scavenged belt she took of an Obsid, picks up the lantern, and heads out to walk around the perimeter.
    How do you sleep, Gigg?
  • I hear her mention Parcher as I'm already half-way drifting off to sleep. When I hear her say Parcher's name, a faint rememberin' flash floods my mind of June standing outside The Pit, shock-faced and sweating bullets. In a barely audible mumble long after Mimi walks away, "That muthafugger Parcher is a dead man walkin'. Count it. If ole June wants ya dead, and ole Gigg wants ya dead, not even Jebus save yo ass."

    Once the adrenaline crash comes after the sandsnake ambush and the bunker surgery is over, I sleep like the dead.
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    End Scene
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