Post Apocalyptic Western: Episode 2
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Bartelby stood theatrically. "Ladies and Gentelmen!" He looked around the shelter. "Just Gentelmen! We have successefully evaded the Captain but let me gaurantee you that he will still be looking for us. Staying here isn't going to work, we have to keep moving. The Bike only has three seats but, if one of you is willing to share a seat with Raireous, he's more than welcome to come along. We could always use the extra man power."
Bartelby could barely belive he was about to suggest this, but it was all he could make from the dying man's last words, and from the man power the Captain sent to deal with him he must have known something important. "I believe that, despite the Federation soldiers which will be infesting the place and the crime lords and the would-be crime lords and the would-be crime lords' gun happy accolytes, our safest course of action is to go to Salvations End." Bartelby paused for a moment and thought about what he had just said.
He sighed and visably deflated. He decided there was no getting around it. They would have to hear his dying words in order to understand. "Look, there's something I have to tell you..."
Bartelby could barely belive he was about to suggest this, but it was all he could make from the dying man's last words, and from the man power the Captain sent to deal with him he must have known something important. "I believe that, despite the Federation soldiers which will be infesting the place and the crime lords and the would-be crime lords and the would-be crime lords' gun happy accolytes, our safest course of action is to go to Salvations End." Bartelby paused for a moment and thought about what he had just said.
He sighed and visably deflated. He decided there was no getting around it. They would have to hear his dying words in order to understand. "Look, there's something I have to tell you..."
Teafo thanked the one of the traveling companions who scared him the least, the others having webbed fingers or appearing drunk and carrying enough firepower to take down a rhinoceros (if he could actually aim while drunk Teafo had no idea).
"Well said, good sir, and I'd be happy to add this bit of metal to our jeep here to give us a bit of armor, we'll be travelling pretty close to Salvation's End soon, and it wouldn't do to show up without at least some protection. But I seem to have a bit of a problem, could you by chance take that crowbar from my toolkit and help me with this?" Teafo held up his mechanical arm and eyed the actuators around the forearm menacingly. "I can't seem to get this hand to let go."
By this point Teafo was standing beside the jeep, mechanical hand gripping the sheetmetal firmly, holding his trusty wrench, and his knee length grey jacket hanging only on his good arm. It was possibly the most ridiculous look he'd ever had.
"Well said, good sir, and I'd be happy to add this bit of metal to our jeep here to give us a bit of armor, we'll be travelling pretty close to Salvation's End soon, and it wouldn't do to show up without at least some protection. But I seem to have a bit of a problem, could you by chance take that crowbar from my toolkit and help me with this?" Teafo held up his mechanical arm and eyed the actuators around the forearm menacingly. "I can't seem to get this hand to let go."
By this point Teafo was standing beside the jeep, mechanical hand gripping the sheetmetal firmly, holding his trusty wrench, and his knee length grey jacket hanging only on his good arm. It was possibly the most ridiculous look he'd ever had.
[Arlonious]
"No problem Sgt, me or Riareous can balance on the back, just fine", I think aloud
I check my small amount equipment once more, refill on some dried food and water and sharpen my knife. I stare into the dull green handle of my blade and tuck it safely away.
"I'll balance first", I state, as a lift myself onto the back of the bike. I relax and drift into a meditative.
"No problem Sgt, me or Riareous can balance on the back, just fine", I think aloud
I check my small amount equipment once more, refill on some dried food and water and sharpen my knife. I stare into the dull green handle of my blade and tuck it safely away.
"I'll balance first", I state, as a lift myself onto the back of the bike. I relax and drift into a meditative.
[Riareous]
"*cough* that's fine with me" I gasped
I could still feel Ricks handy work and it was strong but there was no seditive now. I propped myself up using my hands and lent against a wall. A strange sensation, my muscles tensed, my fingers grasped and felxed, feeling as the dirt scraped off the wall and dripped down my arm. I closed my eyes, my strength really had returned.
I had been unconcious for a very long time, my face was rough. I checked myself. Arlonious had been gracious enoguh to give me back my swords I saw as I looked down, feeling them. Dull and grey but sharp. I was wearing a beige, torn, leather bound top, leather bracers, brown trousers, leather belt with a faded metal buckle and long dirt-stain boots... survial clothes. It was hard to imagine what I currently looked like, where I had been in my dreams, or what was currently going on. It didn't matter. Not for now. Questions and Thanks will come later.
My head was still buzzing as I heard Sgt's words. I turned to Arlonious, he was already balancing skillfully on the back. I tightend my belt and knelt to re-tie my boots. An arm stuck out, it was Arlonious. I grabbed it and he hoisted me up; we leant back to back on either side of the wheels axels, this wasn't going to be the most comfortable of rides.
"*cough* that's fine with me" I gasped
I could still feel Ricks handy work and it was strong but there was no seditive now. I propped myself up using my hands and lent against a wall. A strange sensation, my muscles tensed, my fingers grasped and felxed, feeling as the dirt scraped off the wall and dripped down my arm. I closed my eyes, my strength really had returned.
I had been unconcious for a very long time, my face was rough. I checked myself. Arlonious had been gracious enoguh to give me back my swords I saw as I looked down, feeling them. Dull and grey but sharp. I was wearing a beige, torn, leather bound top, leather bracers, brown trousers, leather belt with a faded metal buckle and long dirt-stain boots... survial clothes. It was hard to imagine what I currently looked like, where I had been in my dreams, or what was currently going on. It didn't matter. Not for now. Questions and Thanks will come later.
My head was still buzzing as I heard Sgt's words. I turned to Arlonious, he was already balancing skillfully on the back. I tightend my belt and knelt to re-tie my boots. An arm stuck out, it was Arlonious. I grabbed it and he hoisted me up; we leant back to back on either side of the wheels axels, this wasn't going to be the most comfortable of rides.
Rick listened attentively to what bartleby had to say, and then smiled. "I'll gladly follow you. As long as I can keep my backpack!" he glanced at Bartleby's leg, and added "There's no telling when you migth have further use of my skills"
He turned to Riareous, and said "Oh, you are awake. How are you feeling? Any pain? Just tell me if you need any painkillers"
He turned back to Bartleby.
"That goes for you too. No need to be a hero. If it feels wrong, let me have a look at it"
He headed over to the motorbike, and climbed on.
He turned to Riareous, and said "Oh, you are awake. How are you feeling? Any pain? Just tell me if you need any painkillers"
He turned back to Bartleby.
"That goes for you too. No need to be a hero. If it feels wrong, let me have a look at it"
He headed over to the motorbike, and climbed on.
"10 000 would be a nice deal" Striker exclaims as he listens to the people talking
he would not be caught dead with that blacktech weapon, maybe he could dispose of it... then again those blacktechs are made to be pretty durable... he could sell it it would probably fetch a fair price. i will have to see. and so he got up to head torwads the signup for the competition in his own fixed up car he kept for such special occasions.
"looks like ill have just enough gas to get there"
he took his revolver his old hunting rifle and a few other 'assorted' weapions from his gunshop. all from ak-47's to glocks and a few 'heavier' weapons to stop any drive by's
"lets go"
he would not be caught dead with that blacktech weapon, maybe he could dispose of it... then again those blacktechs are made to be pretty durable... he could sell it it would probably fetch a fair price. i will have to see. and so he got up to head torwads the signup for the competition in his own fixed up car he kept for such special occasions.
"looks like ill have just enough gas to get there"
he took his revolver his old hunting rifle and a few other 'assorted' weapions from his gunshop. all from ak-47's to glocks and a few 'heavier' weapons to stop any drive by's
"lets go"
"Well" Bartelby thought aloud "if everyone agrees than we should be in Salvations End in about ... four hours." Bartelby looked back to Raireous and Arlonious "Be careful you two, we're moving pretty fast and a fall would be ... unpleasent." Bartelby examined the horizon, turned The Bike toward the rising sun and started the drive.
It was a largely uneventful four hours. Arlonious and Raireous had been fine, no one fell asleep, they didn't even end up being chased by anyone. About the only thing Bartelby really thought was peculiar was when they had sped past a jeep he swore was there at the bar brawl the day before. This one couldn't have been the same though, it was being driven by an odd assortment of cyborgs, drunks and ... frog-things? Retrospectively, Bartelby decided it was probably a halucination.
Bartelby pulled The Bike over at an inn near the outskirts of Salvations End and rented a room for the party. It was actually a pretty decent place, the scotch was surprisingly ... quenching. Of course, it may have simply been from the early lack of scotch. Bartelby returned to Arlonious, Raireous and Rick and threw them keys. "Welcome to Salvations End."
It was a largely uneventful four hours. Arlonious and Raireous had been fine, no one fell asleep, they didn't even end up being chased by anyone. About the only thing Bartelby really thought was peculiar was when they had sped past a jeep he swore was there at the bar brawl the day before. This one couldn't have been the same though, it was being driven by an odd assortment of cyborgs, drunks and ... frog-things? Retrospectively, Bartelby decided it was probably a halucination.
Bartelby pulled The Bike over at an inn near the outskirts of Salvations End and rented a room for the party. It was actually a pretty decent place, the scotch was surprisingly ... quenching. Of course, it may have simply been from the early lack of scotch. Bartelby returned to Arlonious, Raireous and Rick and threw them keys. "Welcome to Salvations End."
Well, now we're all in Salvations End. I didn't feel comfortable doing an entrance for everyone on the bike so I just brought us to town and now everyone can have their own individual entrance. I'm posting this to try and lesson the heresy of my intended double post.
ENTRANCE:
Bartelby called to his three ... allies (the word was still very foriegn to him) from across the room. "I'm going to go see if I can't get us some information we can work with." Bartelby knew that whomever had acquired the dying man's possestions was here somewhere. As he walked through the streets of Salvations End he could smell it, it was an instinct, he knew something important was happening here. This instinct was something that had never lead Bartelby astray before. When he sensed that something important was happening, he ran for his life 180 degrees in the other direction and, sure enough, he was still alive. Admittedly, he had never stayed around long enough to find out what was so important but than again, Bartelby didn't make a habit of looking death in the face. Or suspected death. Or the slim possibility of death. Or the slim possibility of minor bodily harm. In fact he didn't look much of anything in the face. Lots of species interpret eye-contact as a challenge.
Eventually, Bartelby reached the tournament booth, met the simperingly happy tournament spokesperson and saw the billboard esque list of people who had signed up to let other people try to kill them. Personally, Bartelby didn't understand the hype. Being shot at wasn't his idea of entertainment and he certainly didn't have to hold a tournament to get people to do it. "If whoever got the dying man's things is here though, he's going to be at this tournament." he thought to himself "And he'll have shown up in the last few days so ... maybe the last twenty names."
Bartelby had planed to write down the last twenty names on the list and see if he could find them in town. Bartelby thought it prudent that he find them before they found him, holding guns or possibly a rocket launcher. However, he was forced to quit what he thought was a very clever scheme when he came to the startling revelation that somone knew he was in town and wanted him dead. There, the thirteenth name from the bottom of the competetor's board was his own. "Bartelby Fargrounds". He inquisitioned the spokesperson hurriedly and discovered it was far too late to remove his name from the list. It was always far too late.
Bartelby returned to the inn and ordered three scotchs in rapid succession. He called to his allies "I got the information! Someone's trying to kill me!" Bartelby downed one of the scotchs before recovering for air. "I'm fighting in the tournament!" Bartelby downed the second scotch, paused and worked halfway through the third before pulling for air. This was all so ... inevitable.
So. Horribly. Inevitable.
Bartelby called to his three ... allies (the word was still very foriegn to him) from across the room. "I'm going to go see if I can't get us some information we can work with." Bartelby knew that whomever had acquired the dying man's possestions was here somewhere. As he walked through the streets of Salvations End he could smell it, it was an instinct, he knew something important was happening here. This instinct was something that had never lead Bartelby astray before. When he sensed that something important was happening, he ran for his life 180 degrees in the other direction and, sure enough, he was still alive. Admittedly, he had never stayed around long enough to find out what was so important but than again, Bartelby didn't make a habit of looking death in the face. Or suspected death. Or the slim possibility of death. Or the slim possibility of minor bodily harm. In fact he didn't look much of anything in the face. Lots of species interpret eye-contact as a challenge.
Eventually, Bartelby reached the tournament booth, met the simperingly happy tournament spokesperson and saw the billboard esque list of people who had signed up to let other people try to kill them. Personally, Bartelby didn't understand the hype. Being shot at wasn't his idea of entertainment and he certainly didn't have to hold a tournament to get people to do it. "If whoever got the dying man's things is here though, he's going to be at this tournament." he thought to himself "And he'll have shown up in the last few days so ... maybe the last twenty names."
Bartelby had planed to write down the last twenty names on the list and see if he could find them in town. Bartelby thought it prudent that he find them before they found him, holding guns or possibly a rocket launcher. However, he was forced to quit what he thought was a very clever scheme when he came to the startling revelation that somone knew he was in town and wanted him dead. There, the thirteenth name from the bottom of the competetor's board was his own. "Bartelby Fargrounds". He inquisitioned the spokesperson hurriedly and discovered it was far too late to remove his name from the list. It was always far too late.
Bartelby returned to the inn and ordered three scotchs in rapid succession. He called to his allies "I got the information! Someone's trying to kill me!" Bartelby downed one of the scotchs before recovering for air. "I'm fighting in the tournament!" Bartelby downed the second scotch, paused and worked halfway through the third before pulling for air. This was all so ... inevitable.
So. Horribly. Inevitable.
Again, sorry for the double post.
Alotak walked over too Teafo and grasped his hand trying to prise it open,
"there is no way this is comming of by my hand, can't you release it?".
Alotaks hand slipped and hit Teafos arm the hand dropped the metal as Alotak jumped out of the way.
"Ah, i don't know what i did but it apears to have worked, right go and look at the car",
Teafo walked up to the bonnet.
"Im going to find some food" Alotak declared "call me by hitting the manhole cover",
Alotak moved a manhole and slid into the murky water. "The Sewer Fish should be spawning around this time of year, get a fire going and i will be back in an hour unless you call me".
"there is no way this is comming of by my hand, can't you release it?".
Alotaks hand slipped and hit Teafos arm the hand dropped the metal as Alotak jumped out of the way.
"Ah, i don't know what i did but it apears to have worked, right go and look at the car",
Teafo walked up to the bonnet.
"Im going to find some food" Alotak declared "call me by hitting the manhole cover",
Alotak moved a manhole and slid into the murky water. "The Sewer Fish should be spawning around this time of year, get a fire going and i will be back in an hour unless you call me".
Teafo thanked his webbed fingered friend, "must have just been a jam up in one of the hydraulics," he said and popped the hood open. "Oh I see what the problem is," the others looking on or glancing back from their fires, "the engine's overheated is all. We could use that sewer water over there to get the radiator back in working order, but it'll be a bit before we can pour it in without cracking the engine blocks," Teafo begrudgingly left the engine with the hood propped open to cool in the coming night air, and sat down beside Nathan to warm his hand. It was nice to see that the others weren't so trigger-happy after all. And they even seemed to welcome his help. It'd been a while since he'd had traveling companions, maybe now he could stop worrying so much about his own well-being and start tinkering again.
With that he pulled his wrench out once again, dropped his long jacket on the ground beside him and starting tinkering with his arm. 'Maybe if I can get this thing working properly, I could enter the tournament and get something useful' he thought to himself as he tightened down the hydraulic hoses. The idea of sewer fish didn't sound too appetizing, but something is better than nothing in an empty stomach.
With that he pulled his wrench out once again, dropped his long jacket on the ground beside him and starting tinkering with his arm. 'Maybe if I can get this thing working properly, I could enter the tournament and get something useful' he thought to himself as he tightened down the hydraulic hoses. The idea of sewer fish didn't sound too appetizing, but something is better than nothing in an empty stomach.
TURN:
Galt overheard the man shouting about entering the tournament as he emptied his own bottle. He recalled seeing some posters advertising the tournament as he came into the city but never thought much of it. Galt looked up at the man across the bar. He didn't seem to physically imposing, in fact, he didn't look like the bloodthirsty type at all. Ah hell, if this guy thinks he's got a chance at it, I might as well throw in with him, looks like he's got a decent enough posse.
Galt got up out of his seat and exited the bar. He tracked down the tournament barker and signed his name onto the massive sign and grabbed his ticket. Upon returning to the bar, he went over to the group and inquired about a possible alliance.
"Couldn't help but overhear you talking about the tournament. I so happen to have a spot in it mahself. You don't look like the kind of person who'd shoot me in the back first chance, so whaddya say? Think we could do better in that bloodbath as a team?"
Galt overheard the man shouting about entering the tournament as he emptied his own bottle. He recalled seeing some posters advertising the tournament as he came into the city but never thought much of it. Galt looked up at the man across the bar. He didn't seem to physically imposing, in fact, he didn't look like the bloodthirsty type at all. Ah hell, if this guy thinks he's got a chance at it, I might as well throw in with him, looks like he's got a decent enough posse.
Galt got up out of his seat and exited the bar. He tracked down the tournament barker and signed his name onto the massive sign and grabbed his ticket. Upon returning to the bar, he went over to the group and inquired about a possible alliance.
"Couldn't help but overhear you talking about the tournament. I so happen to have a spot in it mahself. You don't look like the kind of person who'd shoot me in the back first chance, so whaddya say? Think we could do better in that bloodbath as a team?"
ENTRANCE:
[Arlonious]
I dismounted the bike and rushed over to Sgt (one of the rare people I have ever associated with) and found him yelling at a spokesman.
"Maybe this is a good opportunity for you", I slowly explain "Maybe Riareous and I can ahem* locate any intentional saboteurs? during your matches and; talk to them"
I smile darkly as I spoke the last words.
I thought for a brief second and a blur later, my knife was back in its sheath. I held a dull piece of cloth and sharply wrapped it round my nose and mouth.
"A simple means for disguising ones face", I explain
"I'll be watching" I whisper melding into the seas of people.
Bartelby turns back to his drink, just noticing the chunk of material missing from the unknowing spokesman?s jacket.
[Arlonious]
I dismounted the bike and rushed over to Sgt (one of the rare people I have ever associated with) and found him yelling at a spokesman.
"Maybe this is a good opportunity for you", I slowly explain "Maybe Riareous and I can ahem* locate any intentional saboteurs? during your matches and; talk to them"
I smile darkly as I spoke the last words.
I thought for a brief second and a blur later, my knife was back in its sheath. I held a dull piece of cloth and sharply wrapped it round my nose and mouth.
"A simple means for disguising ones face", I explain
"I'll be watching" I whisper melding into the seas of people.
Bartelby turns back to his drink, just noticing the chunk of material missing from the unknowing spokesman?s jacket.
I think he had it coming to him
Turn:
Roland's motorbike putters to a halt outside Sanctuary's End. A slow grimace crawls across his visage, twisting it. He always hated cities like this one, the overwhelming stench of human debauchery and refuse was palpable on the air without even a slight breeze to freshen it.
"Disgusting.....but necessary...."
This...Shootout as they call it would be the perfect place to find the sombreroed man on the llama; Roland had seen enough of his type to know that he would be a sure show in the tournament. After all, Roland thought, a slow smile replacing the grimace, he has something of mine. And the Blacktech seemed important enough to keep out of the other's hands. As for the money, it was irrelevent. With the Blacktech and the rest of the clue, he wouldn't need money any more...
If what he saw in the tavern was what he was up against, this would be easier than he thought.
Expressionless, Roland starts his bike and pulls into Salvation's End.
A raven crows from a nearby rooftop.
Roland's motorbike putters to a halt outside Sanctuary's End. A slow grimace crawls across his visage, twisting it. He always hated cities like this one, the overwhelming stench of human debauchery and refuse was palpable on the air without even a slight breeze to freshen it.
"Disgusting.....but necessary...."
This...Shootout as they call it would be the perfect place to find the sombreroed man on the llama; Roland had seen enough of his type to know that he would be a sure show in the tournament. After all, Roland thought, a slow smile replacing the grimace, he has something of mine. And the Blacktech seemed important enough to keep out of the other's hands. As for the money, it was irrelevent. With the Blacktech and the rest of the clue, he wouldn't need money any more...
If what he saw in the tavern was what he was up against, this would be easier than he thought.
Expressionless, Roland starts his bike and pulls into Salvation's End.
A raven crows from a nearby rooftop.
Bartelby stopped engulfing the remains of his scotch and looked up to the man in the denim jacket. He looked ... civilized. Or at least he didn't look like he intended to offer violence with a garden rake. That was civilized enough for Bartelby.
He momentarily considered his chances of surviving the tournament alone. "Sounds like a deal! Let's take that bloodbath as a team. Two heads are better than one particularly if one or both of them has guns." Bartelby stood and shook the denim-clad man's hand. "I'm Ex-Sgt Bartelby Fargrounds, how do you feel about the Federation?"
He momentarily considered his chances of surviving the tournament alone. "Sounds like a deal! Let's take that bloodbath as a team. Two heads are better than one particularly if one or both of them has guns." Bartelby stood and shook the denim-clad man's hand. "I'm Ex-Sgt Bartelby Fargrounds, how do you feel about the Federation?"
Turn:
Alotak swam along the pipes, it was obvious there was a settelment nearby. The stench in the water and the sheer amount of recognisable refuse floating at the top of the pipes was evidence enough. He swam down at the nearest opertunity down a huge storm drain which was open on top to the sky it must have been half a mile away from the jeep. His eyes adapted to the darkness of the tunnels he didn't look up to avoid compromising his vision.
There was an odd smell in the water here. As Alotak swam down the stench grew stronger, he sighted a body shaped school of the pale sewer fish there white eyes looking around franticly. Alotak drew his katana and drove it into the shoal, several of the fish were harpooned, each about one foot and a half in lenth this would be enought to feed every one.
When he struck the shoals scattered leaveing what they had been atached to Alotak lurched backwards, it was a corpse, its legs tied to a rock. As he looked around he saw more of the body shaped shoals, all drowned, each in various states of decay.
Something caught his eye in the mud on the bottom of the storm drain, he reached out and picked it up, he turned it round and round in his hands. 'What is this?' he thought, as he wiped of the grime he noticed an emblem. The Federation... He searched around more and found about 27 that toted up with the number of bodies, this was not good.
A silvery object floated down infront of him, he snached at it, it was another but that ment. There was a splash from above and a writhing figure sunk down infront of him, the figure twiched for about five minutes and fell still.
Alotak opened his eyes and swam. Fast. The badges in his pockets and the fish hung from his Katana sash.
The he pulled himself up out of the water and gave the fish to Nathan,
"guys i think it would be best if we got moving as soon as the engine is fixed", Alotak said.
He relayed the story about what he had found to the group and showed them the badges. He sat down next to the fire and watched the flames danceing in the breeze as Nathan prepared the fish. Whatever was happening with this rumour of black tech, the fight at the bar, the infamous Captain and those dead Federation Officials; Salvations End ironicly felt like the begining of everything.
Alotak swam along the pipes, it was obvious there was a settelment nearby. The stench in the water and the sheer amount of recognisable refuse floating at the top of the pipes was evidence enough. He swam down at the nearest opertunity down a huge storm drain which was open on top to the sky it must have been half a mile away from the jeep. His eyes adapted to the darkness of the tunnels he didn't look up to avoid compromising his vision.
There was an odd smell in the water here. As Alotak swam down the stench grew stronger, he sighted a body shaped school of the pale sewer fish there white eyes looking around franticly. Alotak drew his katana and drove it into the shoal, several of the fish were harpooned, each about one foot and a half in lenth this would be enought to feed every one.
When he struck the shoals scattered leaveing what they had been atached to Alotak lurched backwards, it was a corpse, its legs tied to a rock. As he looked around he saw more of the body shaped shoals, all drowned, each in various states of decay.
Something caught his eye in the mud on the bottom of the storm drain, he reached out and picked it up, he turned it round and round in his hands. 'What is this?' he thought, as he wiped of the grime he noticed an emblem. The Federation... He searched around more and found about 27 that toted up with the number of bodies, this was not good.
A silvery object floated down infront of him, he snached at it, it was another but that ment. There was a splash from above and a writhing figure sunk down infront of him, the figure twiched for about five minutes and fell still.
Alotak opened his eyes and swam. Fast. The badges in his pockets and the fish hung from his Katana sash.
The he pulled himself up out of the water and gave the fish to Nathan,
"guys i think it would be best if we got moving as soon as the engine is fixed", Alotak said.
He relayed the story about what he had found to the group and showed them the badges. He sat down next to the fire and watched the flames danceing in the breeze as Nathan prepared the fish. Whatever was happening with this rumour of black tech, the fight at the bar, the infamous Captain and those dead Federation Officials; Salvations End ironicly felt like the begining of everything.
Sorry everyone for the epic post, but as i said i had somthing planned. Thanks Bling Cat for this opertunity. Feel free to tie this idea in with anthing, i just thought we needed an evil twist 'o' fate. Also i have been watching to much CSI, and Without a Trace.