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Dies Irae Dies Illa

Iron Wraith Iron Wraiths Darkwind Guru Civs Faction Group: Members Posts: 818 Joined: Feb 2, 2009 Kim Ballinger peered through the window of Mezcals at the group of three men who she was convinced were plotting something. Oblivious to her presence Bruce Dotson raised his glass in a toast. "To Jesus Harrington, the best of us". The other men echoed the sentiment and drained their glasses. There was a brief awkward silence as each searched the others eyes for indications that somone was going to broach the awkward subject first. Eventually Dotson spoke. "Ok, we all know why we're here. We had a job to do and now we've done it." He looked over to the Gateway Pedestrian League roster and nodded grimly. "Hell, we more than done it. No-one signed up for going up against Longo and his killers or the Ghosts. Looks like we scored 70 grand minimum. Maybe if the big fish set to fighting for better position they'll fall off some as well. Truth is we done as good as we could." Jason Stevens nodded grimly looking to the empty chair where Jesus Harrington would have sat. "And paid the price too." Dotson nodded in agreement. "Hear him!" He leaned into the table before continuing and the others instinctively closed in as well. "Question is, are we going to continue to take orders from some slip of a girl who hasn't done anything to earn the bounty?" Todd Potts winced. He didn't feel any specific loyalty to the woman. He didn't want to end up on the loosing side of a coup and she hadn't really asserted herself much, the trouble was as the second oldest serving member he didn't want to set a precident for mutiny either. Fortunately at that point Kim had burst into the the bar loudly congratulating the two mercs on their performance. She sat down and comiserating with them about their lost comrade and their injuries and then suggested that they should get back to the lock-up and get some rest. Dotson had glanced quickly at Potts is if assessing his support, but sensing his wavering he winked and left with Jason. Potts dreaded the next meeting when he expected he would be asked to commit to something he didn't really want to do. Potts looked across to Kim who was scrutinising the placings in the league. He shook his head. It was all her fault hiring on mercs, if she had followed the rules then it might have been different. The other recruits wouldn't have caused this trouble. As he sat drinking glumly he reflected on when the rot had set in. ......................... vet wv raceL1 deathrceL1 Posted Aug 9, 2012, 11:36 pm

Iron Wraith Iron Wraiths Darkwind Guru Civs Faction Group: Members Posts: 818 Joined: Feb 2, 2009 Potts had been recruited by Hilda Tingle, the Gateway contingents natural leader, to replace another ganger who had died a few weeks previously. Hilda was big, scarred and, frankly, bloody scary. He'd quickly realised that she was also a doer and never asked more of a gang member that she would ask of herself. In fact he'd first thought she was a bit crazy as she seemed to take any opportunity to get out of her ride and open up with handguns. As a driver, nothing would prise Potts from his seat other than imminent death. He had a shotgun to defend himself against critters, not to go out looking for trouble. Hilda however took a delight in Shotguns, pistols and most of all her beloved SMG. She spent more feeding her guns than she did herself. She was a gun nut in every sense. Under Hilda everyone knew their place and life was pretty comfortable. Potts had been vaguely aware that Hilda and some of the other ganegrs were entering the ped combat league, but as a foot event, it hadn't really crossed his radar. There didn't seem to be any real issues, the gang was casual about it and Wraiths managed to clock up the acceptable 20 points a week. That equated to 12 grand up front and moved you up the rankings. 4 weeks would give 80 points which was usually more than enough to place in the league and reap several tens of thousands. In the past they'd dropped a few points off the ideal and ended up at the lower end of the final ten, but that still equated to tens of thousands, more than enough to justify the gangs running costs for the entire year. Usually no-one got badly hurt, no more so than in deathraces anyway and Potts took those in his stride. Most of the gang did a stint in the third man slot as Hilda and her sidekick were permanent fixtures being the only gunslingers in the gang. Kim had joked that it would be Potts turn soon, but there had always been better shots available. Then just last week, in a brutal Ped Combat League event against Ceasars Ghosts and Blood and Iron, Hilda Tingle and her two wingmen got wiped out, leaving only Kim and Potts in the gang. Kim had assumed leadership as the longest serving ganger and Potts hadn't demurred as he preferred to be a follower rather than a leader. He had assumed that the gangs League aspirations had died along with Hilda and he was glad the craziness wouldn't continue as he had no desire to enter such a dangerous competition. Unfortunately Kim had felt that as Hilda had still managed to posthumously place first her hard won position shouldn't be just thrown away. At a solid 60 points, a win in the fourth week would secure a significant prize and even scraping a fifth place would at least keep the gang in the top ten. As the league progressed fewer and fewer able bodied gangers were available and in the later stages some gangs could only field a few die-hard, bloodied and sometimes half-crippled representatives. In some events the whole team might be dead before the event started. They might only have to face a couple of opponents anyway. Potts had argued that with only two gangers they wouldn't be in much better position. On his recent joining he had been required to read the Wraiths code of conduct and he was also able to point out that stations were forbidden to enter their entire membership in a single event in case fatalities eliminated the whole gang. He had only needed to nod at the three empty chairs to remind her that fatalities were not only possible but likely. That meant only one of them could enter. He had consolidated his argument by reminding her that they were both drivers anyway and he for one was an appalling shot with a handgun. If she wanted to go in alone, he wouldn't stop her, but he sure as hell wasn't. She had agreed reluctantly and Potts was about to head back to the lockup when she had come up with the "solution". Taking the winnings from Hilda's last event she put up notices in Mezcals for hired guns. The recruitment scouts had offered a couple of candidates, and taken their $1000 fee for each one. Potts was suprised when, rather than taking the first two regardless of skill as per policy, Kim had taken them to a quiet part of the compound and asked them to prove they could shoot. She had decided that they didn't make the grade and, after "fining" them their handguns for mis-representing themselves, she had promptly fired them. Potts had started to complain that Wraiths just didn't do that, "as everyone got a chance". She had angrily turned on him and carelessly brandishing one of the looted shotguns she pointed out that everyone got a chance to prove themselves and that had been thiers, if she was going to field a team that couldn't shoot, he might as well go in with them. She wasn't going to sully Hilda's work just to follow some idiot welfare policy. Potts had decided to shut up at that point, he wasn't keen on the combination of a tight grip on a shotgun and a loosening grip on reality. After several more attempts she had found three competent guns, and acquired a number of pistols and shotguns. The recruits were told that a condition of joining was fighting in the league. They hadn't demurred as when the team signed up only a few local gangs were taking part. It was only as they got to the arena floor that they'd all suddenly found out that two of the league leaders had entered at the last minute. It improved the points available slightly, but signifincatly diminished the chances of survival, let alone victory. Worse both leaders were drawn on the same side opposing Wraiths and only a few gangers in the teams that were on the blue side with Wraiths had shown. It was going to be risky. Fortunately it had turned out that either Ghosts were incompetent with their grenades, or they had a game plan to cripple Longo's chances. They wouldn't have got away with a direct attack, but a chance "mishap" with a grenade ended up knocking out one of Longos top men briefly. Unfortunately Ghosts soon got their eye in. Wraiths had carefully worked their way round cover, shooting as targets became available, but it was only a matter of time before two of them had got caught in a grenade blast. They had been stunned for a few seconds while Jesus Harrington did his best to cover them with his SMG, dodging RPG fire as he did so. He had just pegged the Ghost with the RPG, a burly mutant, when the others came to, firing instinctively in the direction of their most recent enemy. The already unconcious mutant was hit again with a few rounds before they realised their mistake and targetted the more dangerous threat of a Longo marksman behind a pillar. Their confidence was already waning when a bellow from Longo's leader called for Wraiths to surrender or die. It came too late for Jesus who had been hit and was now staggering and well on his way to death. With a final defiant burst of fire Wraiths had surrended as last men standing on the blue team, ending the conflict. Jesus had succumbed to his wounds before they got out of the arena. They had managed to secure second place. They were a long way behind Longos and it was certainly the right decision. It also put them fifth overall. ......................... vet wv raceL1 deathrceL1 Posted Aug 9, 2012, 11:48 pm Last edited Aug 9, 2012, 11:49 pm by Iron Wraith

Iron Wraith Iron Wraiths Darkwind Guru Civs Faction Group: Members Posts: 818 Joined: Feb 2, 2009 Tod Potts's thoughts returned to the present. The Mercs had bought Wraiths a reasonable placing. The trouble was now they had done the job, they were immediately on the look out for the next chance. A woman who hired people to do her fighting for her wasn't much of a challenge. If Potts threw in with them she would be out numbered 3 to 1. He wasn't even sure if she really wanted to be leader. Hilda was a tough act to follow and she was barely cold in her grave. Kim Ballinger returned to the table. She had been reviewing the placings and Ghosts performance recently had ended their challenge to the top slot. It was a no-risk gamble, they could have toppled Longo, but even with the complete loss, no-one would be able to place better. Wraiths recent 17 points put them in 5th place with possible contention for 4th depending on the performance of the other teams. Longo was unlikely to enter again as he couldn't better his position anyway and might risk dropping enough points to allow Ghosts back on top. If Longo didn't drop there was no benefit to Ghosts competing further. It was annoying, had Wraiths scored their usual 20, they would have achieved an usassailable 3rd place. The money was irrelevant, they could get that in racing given time. It was the missed chance to get some hardware that rankled. The Wraiths in Gateway had two beat up muscle cars that had been left behind after the trouble. They had used them until they were full of holes. Hilda had been keen to test her nerve by driving a breached car, but entering a race demanded a certain standard of vehicle. Kim couldn't put the thought of the Buccy from her mind. If she got one of those, it would be unique in the Wraiths stable. Whilst there was talk of equality, opportunity and welfare, there wasn't a single ganger that wasn't a petrol-head. The station that brought in the first Buccy would be made. The leader of that station... Potts looked at her disinterestedly. She was clearly thinking hard. Maybe she would step down voluntarily and save him all this anguish. he shook his head. He was deluding himself. If Bruce took over, and he was sure it would be Bruce who was behind the plot, Potts would end up far down the food chain. He could envisage having an accident when they decided they wanted another of their kind in. He had no choice really, he'd have to stick with Kim. "I'm glad of that Potts, because we've got work to do." He looked up in confusion. Kim smiled. "You mutter when you are thinking. Sometimes it hard to decipher, but when the subject is really obvious, like now..." Potts flushed embarrassed. He'd make a lousy traitor anyway, he'd have given the plot away. Kim happily burbeled on. "But, since you are once again a loyal supporter, you are going to help me secure our position in the gang." Surprised, Potts listened intently as Kim set out her thoughts. It was simple really. If Wraiths got another event and got a first place their score average would take their points total to 79. That would equal Finger3, their closest rivals for third place. Finger3 couldn't improve their score without taking on dozens of vets and winning. That never happened. Longo and Ghosts wouldn't risk their positions and no other vets were anywhere close enough to take such a gamble. 79 would also put Wraiths safely out of reach above what any other competitor could reasonably achieve. In the event of the tie the placings could get a little random. Worst case they'd get 4th place with over $100,000. That would cement their position. If by fluke they got the 3rd place, the Buccy would make them minor heroes. "How will that help us with the mercs?" Kim grinned. "Well we wouldn't be needing to enter again if they had done their job properly. If they'd got the 20 points as specified we'd already own that Buccy. They might have had a case for consideration, but they still would have done only a quarter of the work, and no more than they were contracted for. If we win, we correct their mistake. It sounded to me like they were trying to justify a coup. If they wanted to strong arm, they'd have done it by now. Much better for them if they can convince Dalton to make one of them subleader. Hopefully Dalton will see that my tactical planning bringing us glory makes me leader material." Potts nodded glumly. He couldn't just say no as it would make him a gang of one, but he really wasn't keen on going into a gunfight. Fortunately as one of the Mercs was dead, and the other two were badly wounded the gang was back in the position before they'd hired them. The same arguments that applied then applied now. With some relief he regurgitated his reasoning. Kim frowned briefly as she considered his argument. Suddenly she broke into a grin and Potts's stomach rolled over in dread. "That's OK. The station has a cap of five members, we got three mercs because we lost Hilda and her two wingmen. With Jesus dead that leaves one more slot. We simply use the winnings from the last event to hire on a new gunman... well a new gangmember anyway. That gives us three uninjured people to put in and if we all get killed, Doton can take over and reform the gang how he wants." Potts looked aghast. The casual way she had discussed the possibility of their death gave him little confidence. The following day Kim found him. She had a fierce looking girl in tow. "Hey, Potts. This is Sandi . She's our new member. I checked her out and she's not bad with a pistol. Dig her out a shotgun from the store and buckle up yourself. We have 1 hour until showtime and I want you hot to trot and ready." ......................... vet wv raceL1 deathrceL1 Posted Aug 13, 2012, 8:29 pm Last edited Aug 15, 2012, 8:39 pm by Iron Wraith

Iron Wraith Iron Wraiths Darkwind Guru Civs Faction Group: Members Posts: 818 Joined: Feb 2, 2009 Potts' back was drenched with sweat as he stood in the Gateway pedestrian arena waiting for the klaxon. He cast a nervous look round at his team mates and the tow or three others that made up the Blues. None of the other gangs represented were really in with a chance in the league and so he wasn't as worried as if one of the contenders turned up. The recent stories about shotugn related deaths were recent in his memory however. He also couldn't shake the sight of the four gangers who had died in the last two events over less than a fortnight. Kim was also feeling the strain. Was it really worth this. He guts were twisted up in terror. She'd felt confident enough suggesting fighting, but it was a very different thing to actually stand here and wait for as yet invisible foes who were specifically trying to kill her. Why did people do this? She kept thinking about the Buccy, but her hands were slick on the SMG and hr mouth was dry. She looked across to Sandi. In contrast she seemed wholly unmoved. With a sinking feeling Kim realised that she didn't really have the nerve for this. She checked the magazine for the third time. She was still fumbling with the catch when the Klaxon went and suddenly her mind snapped back to the reality of the dust and the heat. Potts concentrated on following the plan. He was to cross over to the wall and provide covering fire at the gap in the pillar. Sandi was going to run up the open space between the inner compound and the small cluster of buildings and crates at the top of the arena. Kim would move under the arch into the inner compound in case anyone come up the back way. One of the gladiators burst from cover and in panic Potts and Kim fired. Sandi was far more controlled but whoever was responsible, the Gladiator immediately went down. Potts crouched and kept firing blindly into the gap through which he had emerged with Sandi providing support. A second opponent was cut down in the crossfire. So far so good. Kim had emerged though the archway and started moving towards the far archway. She could see movement and realised that soemone was making their way along the wall to the arch in front of her. In abject panic that she would be caught in the open she crouch-crawled to the wall and yelled for Potts to cover her. He was too stunned by the bleeding and twitching pair in front of him that he didn't hear, but the cooler Sandi shoved him in the direction of Kim before she started dashing down the main street. Someone peeked round the corner of the arch and Kim opened up, clamping her finger down far longer than necessary or wise. As the SMG bucked she dragged it back down and across, aiming it like a hosepipe, the stream of bullets splintering chunks out of the adobe walls and kicking up sand through the archway. No-one came through, but she kept firing hoping that someone would walk into the stream. By now Potts had taken up a position to her right and was shooting at something with his rifle. Suddenly someone stepped into the opening and bullets kicked up around Kim's feet. She flinched and her aim went high, scattering lead over the surrounding dunes. Potts was firing in abject panic, his face tiwsted in horror as his shots hit near but never near enough. He was crying and she could see the dark patch on his pants where he had wet himself. Where the hell was Sandi. Mustering every ounce of self-control she focussed her aim as the opponent ducked back behind the arch. Still the gun bukce dtoo much for her light frame and whilst she peppered where he had once been, she failed to out her target down. Suddenly with a jubilant cry Potts stopped firing. He had apparently hit the lurking red and neutralised him. Relief washed over her as the tally said there was one more to go. Sandi would get round the corner soon and hit him in the flank. She began to congratulate herself, after aquick glance at the score board showed that she couldn't fail to win.. With surprising speed the remaining red was round the archway and firing. Bullets kicked up around her and stone chips flew into her face as a bullet from behind smacked into it with a buzzy whistle. Kim was briefly concerned that she had miscounted and somehow a red had got behind her, but with shock she realised that the remaining blues had finally had the guts to enter the inner compound and were firing on her opponent. Thye seem to be uncaring that she was between them and their quarry and thier accuracy was shuch she was in as much danger as the red. With the chance of her own team gunning her down she couched and fired frantically, eyes closed and mouthing prayers to the almighty and the mafia combined. There was a hellish confusion of gunshots, ricochets and the occasional deepre boom of a shotgun. She barely heard the klaxon and reluctantly opened her eyes to see the final red face down in the dirt. Her hand was shaking badly and Potts was quietly sobbing in the corner. Sandi poked her head round the arch and would have got it blown off if Kim hadn't sub-conciously flipped the safety when she heard the Klaxon. She grinned sheepishly and Sandi bounced over, seemingly unaffected by her brush with death at her team mates hand. They let Potts slope off to clean himself up. He claimed a bad case of the sweats and the state of his shirt enabled them to pretend they believed him. He was no hero, but he hadn't frozen, when the time came he dropped an enemy despite his terror and maybe even his wild shooting put the last one off his aim. Now it was over Kim was pleased with their performance. They had aquitted themselves well for a band of no-hopers and no-one had taken an injury. Unless soemone posted a blistering performance in the next two days, they were home and dry with a 50-50 chance of the Bucaneer. It was with a sense of accomplishment that they headed back to Mezcals for a well deserved drink, the twelve grand clutched firmly in Kim's still trembling hand. ......................... vet wv raceL1 deathrceL1 Posted Aug 13, 2012, 8:29 pm Last edited Aug 13, 2012, 8:30 pm by Iron Wraith

Iron Wraith Iron Wraiths Darkwind Guru Civs Faction Group: Members Posts: 818 Joined: Feb 2, 2009 Kim Ballinger looked morosely at the other four gangers, her foolproof plan for glory in tatters due to some stupid Mafia league rule. Bruce Doton looked belligerent; she knew he was plotting a coup. If her plan had panned out he would have been forced to concede defeat, as it was, he was probably just waiting for the others in the gang to declare their interest before putting his hat in the ring. It was supposed to be so simple, place third in the league, win the car and soak up the glory. Well they'd placed third due to her personal efforts, she'd done her bit. She'd gone back to the Mafia after the final event to claim her prize only to be told that it had already been awarded. She'd been barely able to suppress the tears of frustration when they'd calmly explained that as it was a big league event the awards were made in Somerset not Gateway and all someone needed to do was drive it up to Gateway if she was that keen on seeing it. They didn't understand or care that Wraiths didn't do travelling. All she knew was that the big yellow dream machine was sitting in a lock-up somewhere in Somerset alongside 200 other cars. It should have been occupying pride of place in the HER lockup alongside the two beat up junkers that were the entirety of the Gateway 'fleet'. They couldn't even use it to enter the local events. Doubtless someone in Somerset would realise at some point that they had a new car, but by then she might already be out on her ear. It might take months for them to get the word to Dalton and by then the glory would be badly diluted. She didn't really want the leadership, but she owed it to Hilda to make a go of it. After managing the turn around in their fortunes, she had finally felt that she might actually deserve it, but now she wasn't sure she could be bothered. Hilda had once advised her that you always had to question the motivation of those that wanted authority. The fact that she didn't want the leadership made her the ideal candidate. Doton wanted it so badly that she could almost hear it fizzing off him. In his hands, who knew what might happen. She couldn't put it off for any longer. Taking a deep breath she launched into the little preamble she had been rehearsing since she found out about the car. In truth, she didn't have much beyond the preamble planned but she figured that if there was to be a leadership challenge she wouldn't get much further anyway. "As you all know, Hilda the ratified Wraith representative in Gateway was killed a week ago. Under the constitution if we don't elect a leader within a week and notify Dalton, he will impose one upon us. As the mail is late, we have this one last chance to decide our own future. It is for that reason we are assembled here today..." Doton broke in. "I would like to put myself forward for nomination, seems to me I have proven my worth in the Ped combat. We did pretty well against some league heavyweights." He grinned sarcastically. "Though, I do concede, not as well as some others who took on the REST of the league." Kim retorted angrily. "If you had any sense you might have picked your fights better." Doton smiled thinly. "You don't always get to pick your fights, but you can pick how you handle them." Kim responded too quickly suddenly aware that this was the sort of tit-for-tat exchange that she seldom won. "And how exactly did you handle it? By surrendering to Longo? What courage!" Doton's smile turned to a snarl. "As you say Missy, you pick your fights where you can. Longo outclassed us, he had already killed one of us, we couldn't beat him so why waste friends lives in trying. Is that going to be your strategy? Vote for me and I'll throw your life away to no advantage. At least with me you'll know I have the guts to quit when it makes sense." Kim fought back the anger welling in her; it was coming out twisted making her sound petulant rather than fierce. She had already lost and she knew it. With dumb appeal she looked around the table. Doton was looking smug. He had his is buddy Stevens' vote before they'd even sat down. Tod was staring pointedly across the table avoiding eye contact, he'd backed her before, and he might privately regret that she was ousted, but even she had to concede he'd be a fool to throw in with her now. Tod gazed across the table at Sandi. He was mortified that she'd seen him unmanned in the arena, and worse the embarrassing side effects. She was glorious and lithe and so... alive. When she had poked her head round the wall and seen him crumpled in the corner, he had wanted to scurry away in shame. When she run over to him grinning and playfully slapped him on the shoulder he had melted and the trembling in his limbs turned to anticipation rather than terror. Whatever she said today, he was hers. Kim turned to Sandi with no great expectation. She had been with the gang only a day or two, she hardly owed any loyalty. To her surprise Sandi was smirking slightly as she looked at Doton. She turned to Kim and winked before speaking. "Now I'm new to this and I can't really say I know too much of either of your leadership qualities. To be honest situated where we are I can't see that being much of a help in our day to day business anyways." Doton raised an eyebrow in interest and Kim was looking resigned. She glanced at Tod and saw he was looking at her in a dopey hound dog way. She grinned at him while she waited for everyone else to focus on her. "It seems to me though that you are both arguing that the best leadership is knowing when to cut your losses without folding when you can still win. I can see that would be a real pertinent indication of a leader. Now it just so happens that I have a proposal where we can test that quality... if you are willing?" The two aspirant leaders looked at her, at each other and then back at her. Doton anxious to secure all the ground he could spoke first. "I am not adverse to a challenge, but I'd like to know what I was going in for before I accept." He sneered at the downcast looking Kim. "After all you’d be a fool to rush in before you have made a decent recon." Sandi shook her head, Kim was admitting defeat too easily, letting Doton brow beat her. Sandi had signed on with Wraiths because of their reputation and because she had heard they had a woman in charge. She wasn't sure which was worse, a weak woman or a bolshie bloke. She'd seen other gangs with then men making all the decisions, thinking with their balls rather than their brains. Doton talked the talk, but she had heard that it was Jesus that had lead them in the arena, and he'd got himself killed. It wasn't tactics that made Doton surrender, it was expediency and that wasn't a desirable quality in a team player. That Stevens guy was just a suck up and Tod... well he wasn't a warrior at heart by any stretch of the imagination. At least he was honest in his terror and the way he was embarrassed by it was kind of cute. Snapping back to the meeting she perceived the barest nod from Kim and so she outlined her “test”. “OK, I propose that we simply test your courage under fire.” Doton sneered. “We already done that missy, or weren’t you paying attention?” Sandi continued easily. “I know that, but it wasn’t exactly under scientific conditions was it, you both weren’t in the same fight. As I recall you went down half-way through your fight, but Kim there was fighting to the end… you wouldn’t count that as fair comparison would you?” Doton shifted uneasily. He had to watch what he said. He needed a clear majority and like it or not this girl was the key. He’d hoped that Potts would man up, but Doton had seen the sly looks he was casting in the new girls direction. The idiot was all loved up and he’d not back Doton unless she was in too. “Well, I don’t want anyone thinking that I wasn’t fair minded. Maybe if you told us what you had in mind?” Sandi smiled inwardly. It had all depended on compliance. Kim had been right; Doton wasn’t the really ruthless type. He obviously fancied being leader, but didn’t really have the killer instinct. Maybe this would work out OK. “Well for there to be a test of reasoning under pressure, we need there to be some sort of stress. If we want it to be like combat, there has to risk of injury, but we don’t really want to kill anyone… if we can help it anyway. So I think we should be looking at selective maiming.” Kim was going white. “And what exactly does that mean?” Sandi grinned. She was starting to enjoy herself. “Oh, there’s plenty of stuff out in the wilds that will mess you up without killing you. Rats, insects, grubs and such. Not the real big ones or the poisoning ones you understand. Just the common or garden pests that will chew on you, bite you or sting you, it will hurt like hell, but deep down you know it can’t kill you. We subject you both to equal measure of that and the last one to chicken wins.” She looked smugly at both principles who looked on in shock. For a second or two the silence stretched before hit was broken by Tod Potts. “Well, I think it’s a great idea. Certainly better than a real fight anyway…” He tailed off at the stony looks from Doton. “I’ll give it a chance!” Kim heard someone say the words and belated realised it was her. In an effort to recover her composure she repeated it a little louder, but with a little less conviction. Sandi slapped her on the back and looked hopefully at Doton who smiled uneasily. “Well, that sounds fine… but how will be sure that the critters are merely unpleasant, we don’t want any accidents do we.” Sandi grinned broadly. She had them now. When she was a kid they had used this method for choosing gang leader and it hadn’t failed them then. She waved airily. “You leave that to me, I have local knowledge.” ......................... vet wv raceL1 deathrceL1 Posted Aug 20, 2012, 10:11 pm

Iron Wraith Iron Wraiths Darkwind Guru Civs Faction Group: Members Posts: 818 Joined: Feb 2, 2009 Jason looked on uneasily at the scene before him. He’d seen gang leadership challenges before but they had never taken the form of the circus before him. It seemed like most of the gangs represented in Gateway had shown up to see this farce. Many were openly jeering at the sissy show. Out in the market place Sandi and Tod had set up a sort of tent made of the fine mesh that they used to keep the bugs out of the habitation blocks. In this case they would be keeping the critters in. A large waist high rectangular pen made from corrugated iron had been set up under it to keep the larger ground crawlers in. Sandi and Tod had painted it garish colours and written “Iron Wraiths Grand Leadership Challenge” on the outside and posted a list of rules for all to see. Initially there had been cursory interest in proceedings, but after a while a crowd began to gather, anything to pass the time would gather some interest. The stipulation that the challengers needed to be in underwear only had piqued some interest. Bruce Doton had started to raise an objection until Sandi had told him she was going to be in there as well to ensure fairness. Tod had suddenly needed to find something to do elsewhere as she stripped down. The only concession Sandi allowed them was that masks and goggles could be worn. There was a small risk that some the stingers could cause death if accidentally ingested. When Doton enquired how exactly could you accidentally ingest one, Sandi had waggled her eyebrows and cryptically offered “Full immersion, Baby!”. They were aslo allowed to keep their boots on as the carapace on some of the dune bugs was razor sharp to deter predators. Kim was disgusted rather than terrified when she saw the buckets and jars full of creepy-crawlies that Sandi had scrounged up from the middens in the ditch behind Mezcals. There was an all pervading stench of rot and something like sour peanut butter. Doton was holding it together easily until the jar of jam appeared and he was told to smear it on. He hesitated and, past caring and anxious to get things over with, Kim grabbed a handful and smeared it on her limbs, torso and after a moments hesitation her hair. Doton was getting ruffled and so Sandi grabbed a handful and smeared it alternately on her self and the reluctant gunman. Tod probably would have contested for leadership himself had he seen the attention she lavished on Doton and by the end Bruce was grinning through his bandana. The mood of the crowd by this point had shifted from mocking, through vague interest to leering fascination. The focus of attention was clearly Sandi who pulled down the mesh curtain sealing herself and two candidates into the menagerie. She was probably a bit aggresive for some people, but in sports bra and tight shorts she was lithe and graceful. Kim was suprisingly buff and had thought carefully about her attire going for the same ensemble as Sandi, but in all black matched with black respirator and aviator goggles. Doton had to concede that despite being thirty and showing the scars of combat she was still in one piece and worth checking out. For the ladies Doton was wearing baggy boxers with a button fly. He didn't want any distraction to be overly obvious. He was slim but toned, built for stamina rather than strength. As a gunslinger it didn't pay to be over muscled, agility was far more useful. Sandi started emptying buckets onto the floor and as the hissing bugs and roaches began milling around the audience began warming up. Each new bucket was greeted with a roar of approval and Sandi played to the crowd. The two challengers themselves shifted uncomfortably as the insects began to identify source of the sweet smell and began adding their own dinner bell pheromones to the mix. Kim didn't want to move her feet as the thought of crunching on the moving carpet was repulsive. Within minutes the more adventurous beasties had started crawling up Kim and she began to feel a little less comfortable. When she could focus on blocking out the movement of individual insects it hadn’t been so bad, now there was a mini stampede she felt less in control. An unexpected irritation was that the mesh cut down on the air flowing through the enclosure and the heat and irrational fear was making her sweat. As the rivulets ran down her body she became increasingly alarmed. The tickling was indistinguishable from the dozens of tiny feet scrabbling for purchase. She closed her eyes and it was marginally worse so she opened them again. She was beginning to loose it when Sandi opened the first jar of fliers. Doton was rooted to the spot in terror. Almost immediately something had crawled inside his shorts and was rooting around amongst his most cherished possessions. He realised that the ladies choice of tight underwear was not just to show off their assets and distract him. He had started to feel quite perky as Sandi had stared to rub him down, but now he was shrivelled like a cold day in Morgan. His teeth set on edge as the something decided to open it’s wing case and flutter ineffectively. The sweat on his forehead ran into his goggles which were by now steaming up blocking his view. He started to panic as he realised he might not know when Kim chickened out. He didn’t want to be struck in here any longer than necessary. He quickly snatched off the goggles and wiped the lenses. The little claw bug was getting confused. It had climbed into the cave en-route to the sweet smell. It's natural inclination when unsighted by undergrowth was to climb above it. It had automatically climbed up as high as it could, but now the waist band of Dotons shorts prevented it from reaching it's goal. The sudden movement as Doton snatched off his goggles produced a violent vibration in the insects vicinity. Its instinct when being shaken off a branch was to grip tight with its multi-barbed legs and mandibles. The disturbed forager in his underwear clamped onto something irreplaceable and Doton let out a screech of pain as he was bitten. Instinctively and ineffectively he swatted at his groin forgetting he was holding the goggles by the strap. As his hand stopped, the momentum carried the heavy goggles on a perfect arc into his already tender parts. He screamed again to the hoots from the crowd and dropped to squat while he fished around for the purpetrator. Without thinking he put his other hand down onto some of the slower and larger groundlings. He gashed his hand on the carapace spines of a sheild bug and hopped about awkwardly. Sandi was giggling hysterically oblivious to the insects crawling over her. She had spent far too long in the slums for something as minor as a crawler to phase her. She popped open another jar and the air was filled with the anarchic flittings of fat June bugs. Kim veered away as she was hit in the face by a particularly stupid member of the species. She'd about reached her limit and was all for quitting. She really wasn't thinking about anyhting other than how to make it all stop. She glanced at Doton and saw him squatting on the ground similarly discomforted. If she could just hold on for a few more seconds... It was at that moment she saw the sand scorpion on his shoulder. Bugs and critters was one thing, but those little beggars were lethal if they stung you. She started pointing and shouting for him to look out, her head turning to Sandi who had clearly just noticed it. Doton froze and the crowd suddenly anticipating the chance of actual death suddenly went silent. For a moment the tableau froze but the scorpion was alerady poised to strike. Doton closed his eyes in terror and Kim was rooted to the spot. In a flash of movement Sandis hand snatched out and gripping the scorp by its tail she held it up. "Is this some jerk-offs idea of a joke?" She turned round to Doton and Kim. "This isn't my doing. This was just supposed to be a test of nerve and also to get that ram rod out of your arse. Nothing I brought in was lethal." She turned round, her face fierce, and upbraided the audience. "There's always some dumb ass who takes things too far. Well smartass, you have ended what could have been some fun. I hope you are satisfied!" Angrily she flung open the netting and kicked down the pen sending crawlers and flyers buzzing intothe now less amused crowd. Angry voices followed her and she turned to the most vociferous and waggled the scorpion in his face until he subsided in panic. As she stumped off to Mezcals, she dropped the offending creature onto the ground and crushed it with her boot. Anticlimatically Kim helped Doton to his feet. "You win, I froze when I should have done something." Doton shifted uncomfortably. "Well, I wasn't too active myself." They helped brush the last of the invaders off each other and before long were giggling like children. The remainder of the crowd turned away in disgust. Potts came over quizically. "So who is the leader then?" Doton and Kim looked at one another and reaching a decision nodded to each other. Almost in union they pointed at the retreating figure of Sandi and spoke together. "She is." ......................... vet wv raceL1 deathrceL1 Posted Aug 30, 2012, 10:12 pm Last edited Aug 30, 2012, 10:13 pm by Iron Wraith

Doc Death Road Rifters Racer Civs Faction Group: Members Posts: 151 Joined: Jun 8, 2009 Enjoyed you write a good tale ......................... wv vet Posted Sep 7, 2012, 4:43 pm

Iron Wraith Iron Wraiths Darkwind Guru Civs Faction Group: Members Posts: 818 Joined: Feb 2, 2009 Kim Ballinger sat in a crowded corner of Mezcals with the rest of the Wraith's Gateway contingent. For years there had been less than half a dozen members and for a while three or less. Evening debriefs were quiet affairs if they happened at all. Tonight the table was stacked with empties and more drinks kept coming. Her ears ached with the unacustomed noise. The last few weeks or so had suddenly seen traffic again between Somerset and Gateway. Where previously communications had been restricted to irregular mail drops, now every day half a dozen or so scouts from Somerset made the return trip and these evening debriefs had become a regular occurence. Kim wasn't sure what had happened but apparently the Northern triangle had reecntly broken out of the trade stanglehold that required subscribing to some sort of trade guild. In the past Gateway refused entry to non subscribers and so when the Wraiths decided to opt out, the traffic stopped. Now Wraiths were actively hauling mail again, over 1000 packets a day. There was still nothing beyond Gateway, but the ost recent dispatches from the Firelight and Badlands contingent indicated that at least local trade had been opened up again. She snapped out of her reverie as Long John stood up, Speech time. Hitherto her impression of him had been restricted to only a signature but now here in the very flesh, he was less impressive than his bitter scrawl indicated. He simply looked like a worn out old cripple with a drink problem. "Ok pipe down. Lets get this over with, we are only supposed to be here long enough to replenish and refuel". Long John waggled his glass and half the table erupted in laughter and calls for more drink. Kim shook her head in disbelief. They rolled out half drunk and barely slept, surely it was a recipe for disaster. Long John banged on the table to bring the horse-play to order. "I think we had best cut to the chase. It looks like we might be a car down. Coffey, one of the rookie scouts from Elmsfield was supposed to be here 2 hours ago. He was on a taxi job and was bringing a relief driver back, Potts a local boy." Kim shook her head sadly, Potts had been an unlikely ally during the leadership challenge a while back and had been gunslinging with her in the Pedestrian combat league. He was no scout, if Coffey was a newb, then they had probably got chopped out there by Freaks or someone worse. Relentlessly Long John continued. "It's been long enough, they'll either walk in, or we'll see them in another life. We can't wait any longer. We have those seven passengers for Elmsfield and we need to swap rides. How many fit scouts do we have?" A quick count revealed that they were two drivers short. "Ok so Blue Four and Five remain here for the other two if they show up... What the hell..." Long John ground to a halt as a commotion at the entrance drowned him out. Kim looked over her shoulder and saw some exciteable looking youth grabbing stranger by the lapels and yelling at them. Normally this could get you flattened in short order, but the level of noise in the room was rising as the boys news was apparently appreciated and relayed. Eventually the barkeep restored some semblance of peace by the simple expedient of firing a shotgun in the air. He turned to the boy and suggested he tell the story once and be done so honest folk could get ack to drinking. The boy, possibly incentivised by the remaining three cartridges in the magazine loudly repeated his news. Kim looked bored past the boy and thogh she caught sight of a familiar face but before she could work it out her subconcious started to tell he that the boys story was getting interesting. "So, anyways we get to Gateway after all but there's freaks on our tail, a Scorpion and a Badlander, both fast. Well with some nippy driving we get round the hill and make it into the yard..." "So the hell what kid, folks doin' that all the time, ain't nothing impressive 'bout out-runnin' a few boon doggers." The boy, unintimiated by the crusty old vet, continued. "That ain't the good part. Now this ol' Badlander is prowlin' round the gates and then this other guy who I thought wuz just a passenger like me says all calm like, 'let's see what this fellas made of', so he ups and runs over to the gate with some lobg arms while the driver just keeps the taxi circling to keep the bandit interested." "Now the gunslinger starts shooting up the side of the Badlander and ducking back, nibbling away til his rifle runs dry. Now the Badlander is angling for position so the taxi noses out enough to make a more tempting target. When the angle is right, the gunslinger starts opening up with hois shotgun and pretty soon the Badlander driver is dead." Kim looked at Long John who was looking at the kid in an odd way, like he's seen him before but can't quite figure it. "...so after he dragged out the corpse he gets into the Badlander and goes hunting for the Scorpion. Next thing I knew, the driver of the taxi gets out, tells me the ride is over and walks out of the gate to help out his mate." By now some of the patrons are starting to smile, it isn't the most daring fight they have heard of, but it showed some smarts. At the mention of the word taxi however, realisation seems to dawn on Long John. "... A Badlander and a Scorpion, a dead bandit and only using a rifle and a shotgun and an unarmed Pho, turns out that Coffey wasn't even armed..." Kim turns quickly at those words and is in time to see Todd Potts, alive and well, drop two sets of ingnition keys onto the table. His mile wide smile shows he is somewhat pleased with himself. "He's making it sound better than it was. The Scorpion turtled or I wouldn't even have considered it. The chassis are only good for scrap as they clearly weren't willing to surrender to a pedestrian unless they had no choice. The shotgun did more damage to the car than I would have expected. Still, not a bad haul." His grin fades as he meets Long Johns steely glare. It reignites as the old man raises his eyebrows in mock disapporval. "Sonny you're late..." <Event S648070> ......................... vet wv raceL1 deathrceL1 Posted Jul 22, 2014, 11:17 pm Last edited Jul 23, 2014, 6:34 am by Iron Wraith

Iron Wraith Iron Wraiths Darkwind Guru Civs Faction Group: Members Posts: 818 Joined: Feb 2, 2009 James Williamson strides boldly into Mezcal's and swaggers over to the race board. Making an ostentatious show of checking the results he nods to himself before strolling over to the Wraiths corner. Rolling his eyes at the others sitting at the table Jason Stephens the de-facto leader of the Wraiths Gateway contingent finishes off his shot and, composing his face into something calculated to be cool, turns to the approaching Mechanic. "So how'd it go? Not too rough?" It had been decreed that all Wraiths were to polish their drivers skills regardless of specialism. Under the new regime there was no scope for recruitment and existing gangers would be required to pull their weight. Williamson was arguably the best driver in the standing contingent, the other being largely gunslingers. That said it was mostly theory put together from the scuttle butt that was part and parcel of garage work. Putting him into a full-on race had been Stephens idea to put him in his place, to show that theory wouldn't pull your tail out of the fire when it all went pear-shaped. It wasn't really a fair race though, the rest of the slate were in 8 Litre, race armoured Turins, while all Wraiths had to field was a fully gunned, battle armoured Pho with a 3.2 litre. Williamson had been pretty ####y that he could still pull off a respectable place as half the slate traditionally didn't finish. Stephens had joked afterward that Williamson had clearly forgotten that it wasn't a death race and his was the only car that would be armed and his guns would be disabled and just dead-weight. Casualties were not impossible in races but it was rare for the majority not to finish. Williamson grinned and sitting down, poured himself a drink. "Theory works just fine. Those muscle cars go fast, but that throws out their ability to turn, on the Whirlwind they can't even leverage it fully, most of their velocity is sliding sideways. They go wide and far slower than their engine performance would indicate. Their power to weight ratio is good, but the extra mass increases their inertia and the sideways movement can't be compensated by the engine, so they have to turn..." Stephens frowned. This wasn't the humiliated mechanic he'd expected. "I heard you didn't make it round exactly cleanly?" he enquired acidly. Williamson suddenly looked flustered. "I had to hug the turns to minimise the distance I was travelling, I explained that didn't I? I went slower, but a shorter distance overall, the tighter I hugged the inside line, the better the relative positioning... A couple of cars hit each other and bounced onto my line and I clipped the concrete posts a few times, but it's only armour repairs..." Stevens shrugged benevolently, he had him now. "So did your winnings cover the cost of repairs Professor?" The others at the table leaned in grinning. They weren't particularly concerned about the outcome of this particular ego-trip either way, but in the dog eat dog world they lived watching a colleague on the hook wriggle was acceptable amusement. Armour repairs were not cheap and race prize money was the lowest, especially a low placing. Williamson looked surprisingly relieved. "I should think so, I placed first. Over three grand, repairs shouldn't run more than a few hundred. Stephens gaped at the mechanic. "First?" The others watched him. It was make or break time, leadership was only as good as your last decision and Stephens had just been proved wrong. The others scented blood. Stephens spoke loud enough for them all to hear. "Ok, I let you try your theory and it turned out a win-win. I sowed the wind and you reaped the whirlwind. Get the pho fixed up first thing, we are entering every race we can in future." Williamson, looking disappointed that his victory should be dismissed so casually, started to get up. Stephens put a hand on his shoulder. "No just yet Jamie, it can wait 'til morning." He grinned at the group. "I think we could spend a little of those winnings on a little celebration, on second thoughts let's say afternoon eh! After all it's not every day you out-run a Turin." ......................... vet wv raceL1 deathrceL1 Posted Aug 3, 2014, 6:52 pm Last edited Aug 3, 2014, 6:53 pm by Iron Wraith

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