Darkwind - Viewing Topic: Chirps in the Morning

Wuulf
Turner, Harvest and Ramirez
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Joined: Jun 6, 2010

Etta ‘Chirps’ Batista, full time Gunnery-Sargeant in the She-Devils and part-time Deathracer, was p-ssed off. Scratch that, she was tired, late, dirty AND p-ssed off. Today wasn’t going to be a good day.

Her alarm clock had chosen that morning to break, which meant she was un-showered and having to lope down the corridor a lot faster than was comfortable or dignified on her prosthetic leg.

As she reached the reinforced door, emblazoned with ‘THR’ in huge gothic letters she stopped to slow her breathing and take a quick glance at her watch. Two minutes early. Thank f-

Chirps shuffled nonchalantly into the rec room, pushed her way past the bleary-eyed gangers loading up on syrupy coffee at the refreshments table and dropped herself onto an empty folding chair next to Elke ‘Left-eye’ Gerner.

She rearranged herself into her usual unusual seating position. It looked like she was half-leaning, half-slouching but it took the weight off her stump, so the posture police could go whistle.

“Morning, Left-eye, what’s the 411?”

Elke ‘Left-eye’ Gerner looked more dishevelled than usual, dreary eyed and even her trademark beaming smile looked a bit tired. That girl and early mornings really weren’t natural bedfellows. Elke winked, reached under her chair and tossed a handful of plastic wrapped packets into Chirps’ lap.

“Free sh_t! Tracksuits, driving gloves, water bottle and I grabbed you a set of goggles before they all go, you’re welcome girl. Bad news is Raven’s got the slide projector out so we’ll be here for a while..”

Elke mimed a yawn, punctuated with a pearly toothed grin.

Chirps groaned. It was going to be a long session. Raven Roche, the bosses daughter, was now the President of THR after Philly ‘Cheesesteak’ Roche had caught the business end of a car rifle last month.

To be fair to her, Raven had been the obvious choice for President as she’d effectively been running things for a few years now. Her old man had been a grade-A battler, but management had never really been his thing. Certainly not the last few years when he spent spent more and more of his time at the bottom of a whiskey bottle.

Chirps had a lot of love for ‘Red’ Raven. She had fond memories of her old Road Leader in 666 Samurai, face daubed in red war-paint, a leather-clad banshee screaming command after command through the short wave radio. Raven had an uncanny ability to see the battle like a chess game but still had full warrior credentials. Despite being a thinker she’d been more than willing to throw hell to the wind when chasing down a kill meant the difference between the 666 getting paid or going hungry that week.

Chirps was, however, less of a fan of ‘Pencil-Monitor’ Raven. Nude makeup and hair scraped in a bun, pussy-bow blouse as standard, with her highlighted training schedules, meticulous inventory management and early morning slide show sessions. The difference between Raven in and out of the wasteland was striking, and always made Chirps feel a bit on edge if she was being honest.

Raven clapped her hands and the room fell silent as she slowly moved her gaze across each ganger, taking stock of attendance.

Turn out was good. It was always good. The consequences for missing the briefings ranged from a week driving the Big Rig to an ‘attitude adjustment’ for repeat offenders. One thing you learnt in THR was that remembering to set your alarm clock was almost as important as remembering your reloads.

“Good, we’re all here. So, first order of business. Ins and outs. You’ll all have heard about the Mobsters hit on Camp Redemption. A bad day for us, a tough day.

Hipolito Bongiorno, Andy Thompson, Ernest ‘Unicorn’ Spikes and Eric Alexander didn’t make it home.

We also lost Shirley Barton and Doris Taylor from the 666 on The Highway to Hell, both from blood loss. I’ve said it before, but make sure you know where your medics are, people.

See Frank after for family donations. And now a minutes silence please”

Chirps gazed at the ceiling in the silence. Or as close to silence as the rec-room got with the muffled strains of angle-grinders and panel-beating still audible from the repair shop.

Thankfully she wasn’t that tight with any of the latest roll call of the dead. Most were new hires, prospects, thrown together into a green training squad. A squad she couldn’t even remember the name of now, consigned to the winds of the wasteland like so many others.

Chirps had known the two patches, Shirley and Doris, not well, but well enough to sink a few beers with from time to time. They were junior members of the 666, her old squad, but patched in after she’d already transferred to take the Gunny slot with the She-Devils.

Elke was the newly promoted Road Leader of 666 and had made the big calls that day, losing two of her crew and her left eye in the skirmish after pulling a line formation way too early against rockets. A rookie mistake.

Chirps patted Elke’s leg to check whether she was holding it together.

Elke drew her hand through her shock of pink hair, breathed out deeply and gave Chirps a nod. She was good.

Of course she was. This wasn’t Elke’s first rodeo, but at less than five foot tall with an elfin physique and one of the prettiest gangers - even with the fresh scars - it was easy to feel protective and forget that under that earnestly freckled face was the mind of a killer.

Raven's cough marked the end of the minute.

“Hh-hmm. Now on to good news. We have four new prospects, Collier, Newman, Hampton and another Bongiorno - good family stock. All locals. They’ll be assigned to a new training squad. The rest of you patches see me afterward if you want to apply for Road Leader or Sargeant - usual pay enhancements will be in place.”

“We also have two new members. The board propose they both get patches straight off the bat. All the Lucky Sevens are in agreement, but as you know we’ll need full consensus.”

“First to the vote, Evangeline Lily. She ran with the Purple Foxes for a five year tour and has eaten bullets before. She’s been a civilian for the past twelve years but a good trucker and I think we all agree that’s a skill we can use. All in favour?”

Chirps glanced around the room. Currently they drew straws for truck duty, and if you’d ever felt your eyeballs dry out from the raw heat of a truck explosion or been curled up in the paper thin cab as bullets peppered through it you knew that drawing the short straw was most definitely drawing the short straw. Predictably, every hand shot up.

“Ok-aay. Lily is in. When she’s back from Firelight we’ll have her supporting the training squad when she’s not on the rig. Second is Carlos Humphrey. Humphrey was the co-driver for our Northern Summer League win. The kid took some serious burns getting down Dead Mans Drop. IF he pulls through, I say he’s more than earned his patch. All in favour?”

Again, every hand was raised. Not surprising as the prize money from the Northern Summer League would be weighing in all their pay packets this week.

“Humphries is in too. Assigned to the training squad when he’s up and running again. That brings us on nicely to our current event standings.”

Raven flicked the switch on the battered projector. It chugged into life and still images of race-cam footage flooded across the back wall.

*click-whirr*

“Northern Summer League - we took the trophy! This league was all about persistence, you have got to be IN it to WIN it. We got the trophy, the cash and Novo Ordus Mundi sponsorship. Scouts, that means you’ll be going to Novo for your next few training sessions, for everyone it means a pay boost and all this free merch. Help yourselves, goggles are going fast but there’s plenty of highlighter pens left.”

Elke raised her eyebrows in exaggerated excitement, formed her mouth into an ‘o’ and whispered ‘ooh highlighters’ in what was meant to be a passable impression of Raven. Chirps tried to stifle a laugh, failed, then had to quickly mask her snort with an improvised coughing fit.

*click-whirr* the slide show continued its unstoppable march.

“Two Guineas, sadly we’re way off the pace on this one. An honourable mention for Kermit Giles or ‘Fireball’ as they’re now calling him in Elmsfield - he drove 400 metres in a burning car to get some points on the board. Again, per-sis-tence.”

*click-whirr*

“Combat League Division Four. Kudos to everyone who has pulled a shift so far. We’re looking good for the top spot - but to do that we need to turn up to ALL remaining events. I remind you, if you are in one of the hot-seats, set your alarms people. We can’t afford another fiasco like last week where we are paying penalty fees to The Smokers and losing points because someone can’t handle their hangover.”

Chirps glanced over at Buster ‘Phatt’ Nutt, the main offender. Young, strong, and an accomplished gunner both in the co_kpit and in the bunk too from what Left-eye had told her. A bit too lazy for her liking though, plus currently his head looked more like a mis-shapen pumpkin, the bruises and swellings from his recent attitude adjustment still painfully fresh.

*click-whirr*

“And finally the big one, the Somerset Deathrace League. Great work by Chirps and Porridge getting us the second position. Joel’s B-stards took the trophy this year, but they never raced head to head with us on the track. Lucky for them, right Chirps?”

Chirps grinned and nodded to the sea of grimey faces that had turned toward her and Porridge. She wondered if Raven actually believed that sh-t. Chirps had researched plenty of footage of the other league heats; the drivers in the JB stable were next level, she was the one feeling lucky not to have been drawn against them.

And if Chirps felt lucky, Porridge, with his missing leg, dead eye and the kind of stiffness in his joints that lets a 34 year old mutant know there’s no point in making long term plans, Porridge must have been feeling like a horseshoe covered in leprechauns and rabbits’ feet.

*click. Chi-ch...chur....chur* the projector motor slowed to a halt.

“So, to recap. Donations to Frank. New squad applications to me. Help yourselves to the merch and remember to keep the money rolling in from events we all need to keep showing that persistence.

See Shotta for this week’s training schedules and to put yourself forward for the Somerset Combat League. After that the rest of the day is your own.

Good job everyone, it’s triple pay this week and no runs tomorrow so I’ll see you all in Dexters later.”

Chairs scraped as people got up for a much needed stretch and the room descended into the hum of conversation.

Chirps turned to Elke.

“The new green squad. Since I lost the leg I figured I should start building up a cash pile, maybe retire in a year or two. Road Leader’s like what, a thirty percent bump from Gunny? You reckon I could get it?”

Elke slowly stroked her chin, feigning being deep in conflicted thought, then burst into a beaming smile and punched Chirps on the shoulder.

“Hell yeah, you know I’ll back you. And Raven still owes you big for getting her home when she lost her arm. So you’ve got the 666 and The She-Devils votes, which leaves the Lucky Sevens, but I can wrap Kermit round my little finger. I’ll be like “Ooh Kermit, tell me the fireball story again”

She giggled and fluttered her remaining set of eyelashes. It still kinda worked.

“Oh and the Camp Mechs of course - but who ever gave a sh_t what they think?”

Chirps perched an Ordus Mundi baseball cap on her head, raised her fingers in a victory sign and grinned at Elke. Maybe today wasn’t going to be so bad.

......................... vet wv pvp5 combat1 pvp4 northernsummer e2g
Posted May 12, 2020, 9:09 pm	Last edited May 12, 2020, 9:37 pm by Wuulf