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Another successful Defense, contrary to a , "haters gonna hate" and a bounty
Krakhedd
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The locals townsfolk are all huddled about. They have once again come under attack from Pirates, and are huddled here for their collective safety and security should their valiant Champions fail them. Though the majority clustered here cannot clearly recall, there was once a time when pirates ran rampant about them, raping and pillaging, stealing away with whatever they pleased into the dark, arctic Abyss outside.

They still await word on the casualties, as that pain is shared by all. With baited breath, in a near-trance state as the tension has long since eroded into numbness, broken only by the not-uncommon sounds of fighting nearby, sometimes just outside the door, an occasional stray round gnawing its way into the walls, hungry for blood and plunder. The townsfolk heard no such sounds today, though. Sometimes, the silence of an attack on Morgan, can be more deafening than the Hell of a successful raid.

Having never earned the respect of the Townsfolk nor locally respected gangs, three members of The Blue Lions were outcast to their usual corner, their names as irrelevant as any "contribution" they've ever made to Morgan. Though they would often register a vehicle with the local Militia, when it came time to meet Fate and Destiny, they were no-shows. There they were, exhibiting behavior common to members of their "gang" all across Evan, sniveling as cowards do, in their usual cowardly spot, as far from the door as possible.

The first sound of a hand on the door breaks the townsfolk's collective trance, as a blast from the arctic Abyss rasps across their faces and through their bones accompanies the first crack of the door. They had counted seven names heading out, including locals Jerry Flaherty and Donald Montoya, who valiantly stepped forward when The Blue Lions, as is typical of their gang, failed to exhibit any amount of honor or courage.

Their collective focus is broken and turns to cheers and relief as Maurice Linde, of the locally-revered Hot Trax gang, is the first to enter.

"Quickly, we need some help outside! I need volunteers!"

How quickly their relief has turned to dismay, as several townsfolk jump up to head outdoors. Upon their return a minute later, the townsfolk are greeted by the bullet-ridden bodies of Jerry and Donald.

The medics seem upon the wounded before a blink of an eye, a consequence of vast experiences of this kind. As the air turns tense once again from the inescapable grasp of worry, the remaining Champions, successful yet again, enter - Timothy "Ball" Lin and 'Badpoor' Simon Goodrich, of the Anubis Cartel"; and Alfred Jackson and Douglas Crowder, of the Hot Trax. They immediately head to the corner, where The Blue Lions' collective smug grins have left their faces. They knew the pirate scouts would bring more vehicles, the pirates anticipating their participation today; they knew, that those who rode out in their stead, lay bloodied and near-death.

Even the gravitas of the wounded is broken by the bark of Timothy, his proto-mutie muscles rippling as he picks up two Blue Lions, kicking the third over as he places his foot upon her neck..

"Listen, you little pieces of rat ####, I don't care WHAT you do in other towns, or to other gangs. You do NOT cause problems like this for us, or ANY of our friends, AGAIN!"

The odor of voided bowels quickly fills the air.

"Sorry" Says a mutant from the Iron Chode of Baphomet "I think I just shat myself its so funny!" but he suspects his thunderous fart masked an accident expelled by a Lion.

Alfred, seeing Timothy in a near-berserker rage, approaches him cautiosuly. "C'mon, Tim, we did well! We had some extra target practice! It's all good. The volunteers are gonna live. It's O.K."

Timothy grunts and shakes the two cowards in his hand; the one on the ground gasps for air as her hands fail to sway Timothy's balance.

"Tim, come on, don't you know I want to wring their necks, too? But not here. This would be just cold-blooded murder."

More grunting as Timothy's gnashed teeth loosen. As his teeth go, so do the "restrictions" from running away unscathed he has placed upon the Blue Lions.

"One....million.....dollars," he gargles through his still-gnashed teeth, as he releases the quickly-scampering cowards.

"One million dollars, the bounty, on all your heads. You, and any more of your cowardly crew up here. I would stand at the Tavern and shoot your recruits in their heads as they sign up, if it were worth my time, much less my bullets."

There are few people remaining apart from the usual Inn staff. Jerry and Donald have been removed to the local hospital. Yet those who remain, stop in their tracks to observe the commotion. Simon, Maurice, and Douglas suddenly appear with a round of beverages for the crew, and beckon toward a reserved table, which has been quickly adorned with a hookah and a hot meal for the Champions.

"Let's all go relax, guys," Douglas says light-heartedly. "Let's just all relax."

"NO!", shouts Timothy, with enough force to cause the snowpack upon the roof of the Inn to shift. "No, I will NOT stand idly by! I've heard from other in my gang and many of our friends, speaking to this behavior. And it just got REALLY personal.

"Let it be official, and let it be known: ANY of The Blue Lions who are killed up here, will earn a one million dollar bounty. Every single one. I don't care how rare or green they are, I want them dead on sight!"

Simon has approached Timothy, and now stands by Alfred's side.

"C'mon, Tim, don't let those cowards ruin this meal. We're all going to be O.K."

Timothy hangs his head and closes his eyes, taking an emotional pause; long enough for the Blue Lions to scamper past, scattering like ####roaches when the lights come on.

"One million dollars," Tim says, raising his head once more. "One million dollars, on any of their heads. Cowards don't belong in Morgan."

The crew retreats to the awaiting meal and the spoils of the townfolk's appreciation.
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Posted Aug 4, 2015, 7:34 am Last edited Aug 4, 2015, 9:10 pm by *StCrispin*
Ashlee
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June Speaks up for the blue lions, "think we scared of the likes of you with all you're money?" " i dont think so"
"if you wanna flex ya muscle's and act hard why dont we have a boxing match?, Fist to fist?" "teach you a lesson in touching a blue lion again"

"you can always say no" "if your not man enough"

Spits in direction of Whats left on table of the bleeding ganger's....and walks out the tavern....with her crew fully intact behind her.
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vet wv

Posted Aug 4, 2015, 7:52 am Last edited Aug 4, 2015, 7:54 am by Ashlee
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"Boxing? Da Fuq?" askes *Alive but by God's Grace* Pinnegar a long time resident and member of the Chode gang

Fish farts again with vigor and shakes his head. "I prefer Sub Machine Guns or even Swords over Fists." then he adds "Bawk! Bawk! Bawk!" as if it wasn't clear that he felt boxing was chicken move

.........................
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Posted Aug 4, 2015, 9:06 pm Last edited Aug 4, 2015, 9:08 pm by *StCrispin*
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Stevie "White" Tiger of the Raiders leans back in her chair and, with a grin spreading across her face, says:

"The Blue Lions.... Aren't they the ones who accidentally assassinated their own leader with a shot to the head? By Sam's beard, they really sound like people to fear.... if you're in their gang!"

To a man, the bar erupts with laughter.
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Posted Aug 4, 2015, 10:07 pm
Ashlee
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*A Yell can be heard from out side*

"it was a shot to the HIP!!!!"... "then his own brother ate him!!"
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vet wv

Posted Aug 5, 2015, 4:22 am
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