coolyo294
Iconic
Slayer of Demons
Posts: 1,169 
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Post by coolyo294 on Jul 13, 2014 19:10:32 GMT
--The Night Before--
It had been seven hours since the Widowmakers had torn down Grimm's statue and the night cycle had long since fallen. But even during the artificial night, the streets of Grimmtown bustled with activity. Word had spread quickly of the Widowmakers' audacious act and it was all anyone was able to talk about tonight. Some were shocked by the insolence and disrespect. Others were more welcoming of the change.
Serena drank the conversations in as she walked the streets, reveling in the newfound respect that people gave her. Where she walked people hurried to get out of her way lest they incur the wrath of the Widowmakers. Best of all, she'd gotten the whole night of drinks free at her favorite little drinking hole. And such a momentous night surely warranted getting a little drunk. But not too drunk. Olivier would chew her out if she got blackout wasted and collapsed in the middle of town.
As she half stumbled through the streets of Grimmtown, Serena decided to take a shortcut through an alley that would lead her back to the Neon Night. Like most alleys were, it was dark, dingy, and littered with filth. A few rats scattered as she stepped near them. But as she walked, Serena was entirely unaware of the danger that lurked behind her until it was too late.
"Say goodnight." she heard a voice say. She had just enough time to begin dodging before there was a tremendous flash of light and heat. Something clipped into her side, knocking her to the ground. It felt like someone had hit her with a red hot sack of bricks, but she wasn't dead. Quick as a cat she rolled onto her back and leapt to her feet, drawing her knife and pistol at the same time. She was going to make this asshole pay.
"Fuck you!" She roared as she slashed out with her knife. Her attacker, a hooded woman, let out a hideous scream as the serrated blade cut deep into her chest and dragged across. Blood spurted from the terrible wound but the hooded assailant did not go down. Instead she drew her own weapon, a chain knife. The air was filled with a wicked buzz as it activated.
Despite the aching wound in her side, Serena deftly dodged the assassin's strike. She followed with two more stabs to the chest. The assassin grunted in pain and finally collapsed, leaking blood from her terrible wounds.
But as Serena went to pick up her up so she could take her back to the Neon Night, the would-be assassin kicked out. Serena stumbled back and the assassin climbed to her feet. Slowly the two circled each other, waiting for the other to make a move. Eventually the assassin struck out, but the blow was impaired by blood loss and easy to block. With a cry of fury, Serena buried the knife up to its hilt in the assassin's stomach and left it there. The assassin made no noise as she sank to the ground, finally down for good.
After checking to make sure she wasn't dead, Serena hauled the unconscious form of the assassin into a fireman's carry and set off again for the Neon Night. The pain from the wound in her side was intense and she nearly collapsed several times, but she persevered and made it to the club. Melissa was working front door security that night. She rushed to help as soon as she saw Serena.
"What the fuck happened?" she asked as the unconscious assassin was transferred to her shoulders.
"I got jumped. Dumb bitch tried to waste me in an alley with a plasma pistol, but I managed to get the drop on her." Serena responded
"A plasma pistol, huh? That's some serious heat. You're lucky to be alive." Melissa said.
"Tell me about it. But enough talk, I'm sure Olivier will want to hear about this." Serena said.
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The first thing Thea noticed when she came to was the blinding light pointed directly into her eyes. The second was the dull, throbbing pain in her chest. Though her wounds had clearly been cauterized and crudely bandaged, the pain was still present. Third was that she was tied to a chair and no matter how much she squirmed the bindings would not come loose. And from the muffled, distant sound of thumping music, she ascertained that she was in the basement of the Neon Night. Not that that little tidbit of information would help her right now.
"Well, well, well, it looks like our guest is awake." a female voice said. Thea strained to make out the face of the speaker but the blinding light obscured all save for her wild blue hair. "You've caused quite a little stir attacking one of my gangers, you know that?"
Thea said nothing.
"Nothing? That's disappointing. Anyways, I have some questions for you. But let's keep it simple for now. Can you tell me your name?"
"It's Thea." Thea said.
"Good, now we're getting somewhere!" the voice said. "Next question: Why did you attack Serena?"
"Fuck you." was all Thea said.
There was a crack as Olivier's fist collided with Thea's jaw. Her head snapped sideways and bright spots exploded in front of her eyes. Two more punches like that quickly followed. Thea coughed and spat out a wad of bloody phlegm and a tooth that had been knocked out.
"Want to reconsider that answer?" Olivier said.
"Insolent bitch! Our attack was revenge for the destruction of Grimm's statue." Thea spat.
"Oh, so you're one of those hooded freaks eh? You lot have been on my hit list for a while but I could never figure out where you were hiding."
Thea just glared angrily.
"Oh don't look so mad! It's not my fault you're a bunch of braindead yokels worshipping a dead man and an ugly statue. Now tell me how many others like you there are and where they're hiding before things get really ugly."
Again, Thea maintained her silence even as Olivier mercilessly pounded her for a few minutes.
"Want to talk now?" Olivier said. Thea was bruised and bleeding, but still she said nothing. Olivier sighed and pulled out her knife. "Too bad for you. Gag her, Ina might be pissed if there's too much screaming." she said.
A rag was roughly shoved into her mouth by an unseen ganger and her hand was forced into a splayed position. Thea's eyes widened in fear as she realized what was about to happen. There was a sick squelch as Olivier stabbed the knife down through Thea's hand and into the wood of the chair's arm. Thea attempted to scream, but the gag did its job. When her scream subsided the rag was roughly tugged out.
"Want to talk now?" Olivier said.
"Th-th-there's one other. A man. I don't know where he is right now, I swear!" Thea cried.
"Is that so? Well I get the feeling you know more than that, but I'll give you a break for now. Don't worry, we'll be talking again tomorrow!" Olivier said.
Slowly, everything faded to black as Thea passed out from the pain.
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Serena XP: +20XP
- Put an enemy out of action 5XP
- Survive a battle without going down 10XP
- Participate in a victory 5XP
She is now ganger rank 1 (50XP). She has levelled up twice.
Advances:
- roll of 11, add +1 to any 1 stat.
- roll of 5, roll of 3, +1 strength.
Your gang gains the following equipment:
- Plasma pistol
- Chain knife
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Post by Lord Harrab on Jul 15, 2014 1:32:31 GMT
The Black Hand: Blood for Coin. The first hint of trouble Arctic Fox had was when four gangers, armed to the teeth, burst from the shadows outside their base of operations and started firing. "Suppress! Suppress!" Short Fuse bellowed, "Bask in the pain and draw their fire." "eyes on Heavy, Top floor!" Overwatch replied, still setting up her Heavy Bolter, "heads down!'" The Black Hand obeyed instantly, except Killshot who stumbled in the rubble on the base's outskirts, shots from the hostile heavy impacted all around her, but a bolt ricocheted from the ground and exploded at thigh height and with a shriek Killshot when down in a spray of blood. "Trooper down! Cover me, I'll get her!' Short Fuse ordered "Copy That!" Overwtach snarled, and it was the enemy's turn to dodge heavy bolter shells as she spayed the hideout with mass reactive bolts. Shortfuse ran towards where her sniper was lying in an expanding pool of blood, ducking and dodging as she ran. "It's alright, " the Gang leader coo'd to killshot, grabbing the girl under the arms and dragging her towards a ruined wall, "I've got you, you'll be okay. I promised." Suddenly, for Overwatch time seemed to slow, another figure had appeared at the ramparts of the enemy structure, and seemed heedless of the small rocket-propelled grenades that were exploding around him as his took aim at Short-fuse's exposed back. Soundwave was faster, having already seen the threat, and as the first shot from the man's bolter left the barrel, he himself was dropped from a shot to the throat from the mentally damaged ganger. Short Fuse felt the bolt impact with her spine, time stretched to a crawl. "Well, fuck-" she began The round exploded. Blood splattered Killshot's face as the girl stared up at her leader, Shortfuse's eyes suddenly blank and unseeing as she fell across the prone sniper, her back a bloody ruin. Overwatch felt a chill as she stared at the corpse, it couldn't be true, not her, not Shortfuse, she hadn't even fired her weapon. She had stared too long, and another bolt ricocheted off her cover and exploded beside her head, tearing her right ear off, but the Heavy barely felt it, already numbed as she was by grief and fear. Gunshots and yells erupted from the other side of the base, too late, the Doomheads had launched their own attack. Overwatch took charge, "We're done here. Position unsustainable. Soundwave, grab Killshot and fall back to the RV point. go!' "What about Short Fuse?" the other said, uncertainty and fear in her voice, "she's still breathing Sarge!" "Sure, I'll handle her." Overwtach lied, she had seen too many bolter wounds to believe the boss would have survived that, but it was amazing the lies one told themselves when regarding a body of a friend. "I'll be right behind you! Now go! get Kill-shot back!" Soundwave fired a few more shots at the enemy, now turning to engage this new threat then pulled Killshot out from under the body, Killshot's face was pale and she was still staring at nothing, hosted the sniper over her shoulder and ran back the way they had come. Overwatch allowed her Heavy Bolter to weigh on its sling as she gathered up the corpse of her leader and friend, then with a spat curse at the base behind her, carried the corpse back into the darkness Fifteen Minutes LaterThe Surviving Doom Heads returned to find only Overwatch and her grisly Cargo awaiting them at the meeting, the Black Hand Heavy refusing to set down her friend while she spoke with the allied gang leader. "Although the price was high," the Heavy said flatly as she was passed a bag of funds, "We will honor the agreement. If you will excuse me, I have a friend to bury." Short Fuse: DEAD Killshot: Old War Wound, Leveled up, +1 BS Overwatch: Partially deafened Short fuse: Leveled up, +1 attack +1 Initiative
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Post by Nepty on Jul 15, 2014 3:38:21 GMT
"Roll 'em and drop 'em boys."
The ceiling of the Houndskull was obscured in a thick cloud of lho and obscura smoke. Andrew made the coin dance between his fingers. He watched the eyes of the five 'gents' at the table around him follow the coin. "What'll it be? Regicide? Angels high? Find the Saint?"
One of the men sneered. "Ladies games. Fit for that boy, but not me." He nodded at a youth sitting in the corner, mumbling into a vox-bead. "I'm a man. I like man's games."
Andrew shrugged. "What'll it be then blunt?" An insult was never an insult if it was used to refer to oneself. In South Circet, and much of the Circuit, in fact, "blunt" was a term of endearment. It meant the astonishingly low levels of psychic prowess displayed by the people of the Dacian sub-sector, in which they found themselves in, in the back end of the Imperium.
The man laid a heavy stub revolver on the table. "Vostroyan's Vice."
Andrew stared down at the pistol. "What're the stakes?"
"There's six of us here. Six chambers. One bullet. See who walks out of this alive."
Two of the other patrons made to leave, but the ganger, a big brute by all accounts, held one of them by the arm. "Where do you think you're going, girl?" The 'girl' a hugely muscled bitch in ex-guard fatigues with a skull and crossbones tattoo across her massive bicep, sneered. "I saw enough action on Luther MacIntyere. I'm not going to blow my brains all over the table for a few thrones. The club'll take a cut anyways."
The man set a big bag of thrones on the table. "One hundred thrones. The cut's easy. They'll take a dozen thrones, but that's eighty eight going to the winner."
Eighty eight thrones could buy a lot of food, women, wine and weapons.
"You're betting in thrones?" asked the woman, slowly sinking back to her seat. "We usually use Imperials."
"Bullshit, Imperials. I play the big game." He smiled around at them. Andrew leaned back. "Alright, let's play."
The man removed five of the six bullets and spun the barrel. It clicked to a stop, eventually. Andrew watched as the Ganger, (who was, in his opinion, certifiable) raise the weapon to his head, and, smiling, tap the bag.
"No bet," said everyone but the massive bitch and Andrew. He placed his fist down on the table. "Bet."
The bitch threw her hands up into the air. "Fine, whatever. Bet."
The big ganger grinned like a madman and pulled the trigger.
Andrew winced as a deafening bang rocked the room and blood and brains boomed right out of the man's skull along with the bullet, which buried itself in the woodwork. The man sat there for a moment, face slack, before he collapsed face forwards. The table shook when he hit it.
Both Andrew and the woman looked at one another. Without taking his eyes off of her, Andrew pried the pistol form the man's slack grip and taking one bullet from the pile of those removed, slid it in. He spun the chamber and held it facing the wall for a quarter of a second, then put it to his head.
He flickered his eyes to the left, where a big black man was lounging against the wall. The man nodded with a quick moment.
Sebastian Hule, leaning against the wall, had seen down he barrel of the gun for that second that Andrew had held it there. The nod was to tell him that there was no bullet in the barrel. Andrew pulled the trigger, still wincing when he heard the click. He handed it to the big woman. They'd play until one of them was dead. The gambling den had gone quiet. Andrew watched her press the pistol to her head and pull the trigger.
When the mist of blood had cleared, and someone had dragged the bodies out back, relived them for valuables and dumped them in the sump, he turned back to his stunned onlookers.
"Anything else boys?
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coolyo294
Iconic
Slayer of Demons
Posts: 1,169
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Post by coolyo294 on Jul 15, 2014 5:09:53 GMT
The dawn cycle hadn't even broken in Grimmtown and already the Widowmakers were at work. Three gangers had taken up positions around a dingy hab unit. They had it on good word that this hab block belonged to a certain drug dealer named Len Werv and his two partners in crime. Len sold the drugs and the other two manufactured. It had been a good system, right up to the point when Olivier killed Len for dealing on her turf without permission. And now she had tracked down the other two. Not to kill them, but rather to make a proposal for their mutual benefit. Olivier and Melissa were stacked up to the left and right of the door respectively, while Mona had positioned herself directly in front. All three were ready for a fight, although the chances of their two targets being in any state to put up resistance were slim to none. "We go on three." Olivier muttered. "One, two," she mouthed the word three. With a tremendous kick, Mona shattered the door off its flimsy hinges. Melissa rushed in with her rifle up and was quickly followed by Olivier. The inside of the hab was almost as filthy as the outside. Refuse and food wrappers littered the floor and the air stank of lho sticks and obscura. At least half of the room was taken up by a complex looking array of lab equipment and supplies, clearly the manufacturing end of the operation. On the other side of the room three cots were shoved. The two men that were sleeping there bolted awake as the door busted in, clearly frightened out of their wits. But one regained his faster than the other. "Hey! You're the bitches that killed Len!" he exclaimed as he reached for a stub pistol laying on the floor near him. Unfortunately for him, Mona was faster and let loose a burst of stubber fire that obliterated his chest and splattered viscera all over the wall and his terrified partner. "Ohemperorpleasedon'tkillme!" he shrieked, pulling his blanket up over his head in a futile attempt to ward them off. "Oh relax, we're not here to kill you." Olivier said. "If your partner was a little smarter he might still be alive. And we only need on of you anyway. But that's beside the point! I have a business proposal for you and I." "Really?" came the response. "What is it?" "I want you to work for me. You make the drugs, we'll sell them. You get a cut of the profits and our protection." Olivier said. "And if I refuse?" asked the chemist. "You end up like your partner." Mona said abruptly. "Then I guess I don't have much of an option, do I?" The chemist said. ----------------------- Gang gains: - Tranq lab - Drug chemist (Dreckard)  ----------------------- Gang actions: - Olivier, Melissa, Mona: Acquiring tranq lab/chemist - Rest of gang: Guarding base |
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Post by Lord Harrab on Jul 15, 2014 13:35:04 GMT
The Black Hand: Siren's CallThe mood in the Black Hand's base was sour, despite the money they had earned. the loss of their leader wasn't worth every throne in the hive, as Far as Over-watch was concerned. Thankfully Killshot had stabilized and was, well, not talking, but more responsive that she had been when Soundwave had brought her in earlier. The heavy was sharing a drink with Killer Cat up in the look out post, bandages around her wound when she saw the truck approach, as it drew closer the two women argued the pros and cons of filling it with bolter shells to let of some feelings, when they recognized the figure sat on the cab. White hair black dress, air of confident grace, even on a rough supply truck. Shit.The Black Hand members still able to walk gathered in the courtyard as the truck drew to a halt and the woman hopped down in a flutter of her dress to stand up against the bars. Two figures dismounted the truck and joined her, their own faces impassive. "Well this is not the welcome I expected." she said with a frown, crossing her arms as she panned her eyes across the gang, "You'd think Short Fuse would have mentioned me." "Siren." Over-watch greeted her with a nod, "What drove you up here?" Siren tossed back her head and snorted, "You know full well what Sergeant. With your little rearrangement of the power balance down there when you tore apart the Red Scorpions, a few gentlemen thought they could take what they want from my Girls." The newcomer's face darkened, "No one harms my Girls, and Pitbull here was getting tired of killing them, so we packed up and followed you, Shortfuse being a dear friend and the mastermind behind my situation, I felt she'd be agreeable to housing myself and my girls." She stood up on tiptoe and scanned the gangers, "Where is she, hiding from me, I take it?" "In a manner of speaking," Twinblade cut in, "she's dead." Overwatch shot her a glare and got a shrug in return, but Siren concealed her feelings well. "I see, and so I arrive in the midst of a power struggle?" "You'd best come in." Overwatch said with a sigh, gesturing for Twinblade to get the gate.
Ten Minutes later,"I see." Siren said quietly, after the events of the morning where recounted, "Someone dangled a fight before her and she leapt at it. Daft woman." she looked up from the tin mug of tea she had been given and regarded Overwatch critically, the Heavy was sat opposite, feet on the plastic surface. the rest of the gang hovered nearby and even Killshot had hobbled down from her bed to give her friend a wave. "Alright," Siren continued, her voice stronger, "you all know me, know that I fought in the scorpions with my sister before I took over the Vice Sector. You all look lost and I know some fuckers will try and take advantage of you if they get wind of it." "Hang on," said Killer Cat angrily, but Overwatch raised a hand. "She can fight." the woman said calmly, "and she's brought her Girls with her, both are reason enough." "whores?" Killer cat spat, "spineless things." "Worth money though," said Twinblade, "to some folk, I mean, and Siren always took good care of them. That'll get people interested. Clean Girls and a classy place. Plus look at her." She nodded at the giant at Siren's shoulder, "Look at the tits on her. they'll get the punters in." "I am not some whore." The giant said in a thick accent, "I kill little rats like you." Siren held up a hand, "Pitbull is correct, I bought her from a slave fight pit, they entertained nobles looking for some under-hive thrills. Her enchantments are to cater for that audience. Some get off on watching buxom women tearing each other apart. I find it abhorrent. So I freed her, gave her a gun and helped her clean up." she jerked a thumb at the other new arrival, "this is Whisper, another pit fighter we rescued before enhancement. she's a savage fighter when roused but not one for talking, kinda like you Killshot." she added, smiling at the masked sniper, who shrugged. "I know your ideology, Emperor knows I heard it from Shortfuse enough, and I know how to mange people. Our mission doesn't have to change and I look forward to getting my hands dirty again." the madam stood and raised a hand. "One Vision. One Purpose." "Shortfuse lives in Death!" Overwatch replied, also standing. "The Oppressors Must die!" the rest chorused "Good." Siren said with a smile, "Sergeant, give me a deeper run down of operations, lets see what my Sister had planned."
Black Hands Gain: Siren (experienced Ganger, New Leader) -75 WS: 3 BS: 3 S: 3 T: 3 W: 1 I: 3 A: 1 LD: 8 (Includes +1) Las Pistol, chainsword, knife Whisper
Ganger -50 WS: 3 BS: 3 S: 3 T: 3 W: 1 I: 3 A: 1 LD: 6 Shotgun -20 Knife Pitbull Ganger -50 WS: 3 BS: 3 S: 3 T: 3 W: 1 I: 3 A: 1 LD: 6 Lasgun 25 Knife shabby whore house - 45 thrones
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Post by Darko on Jul 15, 2014 19:08:37 GMT
As the denizens of the underhive began to stir in the morning hours of the day cycle, a Guild patrol car moved through each of the settlements in turn. It had a large set of vox-speakers on top of its roof, loudly relaying the message the woman in the passenger seat was saying.
"To all gangers who are worthy of the title! The Gladiator Pit invites you to send a representative to take part in a special tournament against your rivals! You will be paid for your participation and an even greater reward awaits the one who proves the greatest of them all! Contact the Guild Emporium quickly if you wish to participate - this special event will take place tomorrow."
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Post by Lord Harrab on Jul 16, 2014 0:12:04 GMT
The Black Hand: The Queen of Vice
Killer Cat watched the ground car go with its message with a sly grin on her face, but reluctantly she turned away to where their new boss was pacing trough an old hab block, muttering to her self over the clack-click of her shoes on the stone surface. Little Dog and her ever present shadow Mr Torch where lurking around, as was the New Girl Pitbull, but Killer cat's eye went to the "joygirls" standing meekly along one wall.
"No-no, this won't do. It looks like a sty and we don't have time to make it presentable. My girls have had a rough time of it lately and they deserve comfort."
"What's the problem?" Killer cat spat, her hand on her sword hilt as she glared at the whores, "They are joy girls, all they need is a corner to brace and about three minutes of pretending to enjoy it. This place covers that. No need to roll out the red carpet for spineless wimps reduced to fucking in the dark to earn some bread."
Siren laughed, standing now in the center of this hab-bock's main lobby "Oh my dear it is painfully obvious you have no inkling of how the workers of the night do business."
She stared to walk seductively towards Killer cat, her dress whispering silkily in the silence,
"My girls may have begun this life as desperate women, but I changed that." She drew closer, " I protect my Girls, I feed my girls, I keep them healthy and I give them a fair cut. Any slut with decent tits can stand on a street corner, giving service to any horny passerby for a handful of thrones. Those poor girls are killed more often then not and addicted to some chems her pimps have been feeding her to keep her screwing men who see her as nothing more that a night's pleasure, something to beat and fuck and discard."
Siren was right in from of Killer cat now, and the ganger flinched when the new boss caressed her cheek. "My girls work for me because they want to, and if they enjoy their work then their client does too. So the besotted fools keep, ahah, coming back for more."
She spread her arms wide to indicate the hab block, "The men and women of the under hive may be forgotten by those above, but I can make them feel like High Lords, tend to their whims and take their thrones, this may seem like ruin to you, Killer Cat, but to me and my Girls it can be a palace for the weary and an escape from their woes..."
Siren lent in closer and whispered into the taller woman's ear, "Just for a night."
Suddenly she stepped back and turned away, "On second thought, this will do Whisper, get the girls settled and keep vagabonds out, unless they wish to pay for services, of course. Hire some locals to clean the place up a bit, and Killer cat?"
the ganger blinked suddenly, jerked back into reality.
"Yes, boss?"
Siren smiled and winked, "Let's go find out what Gelt has to offer us."
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Post by Nepty on Jul 16, 2014 2:28:32 GMT
Vic crossed his arms as he surveyed the new acquisitions.
"You don't get true beauty off of obscura addicts and down-on-their-luckers," said Howe smugly, running a hand through his hair. "To make an omelette, you gotta crack a few eggs, you know?"
The dozen or so girls were hogtied and bound, and their faces were obscured by heavy sackcloth masks. "Cracking a few eggs is one thing," said Vic. "This is something else. We do what we do, but don't make light of it." He nodded. "Alright, mark 'em.
****
Vic sat in the Houndskull with a bottle of amasec and a glass in front of him. Mark stepped out of the back room. "Okay, it's done." There was a bit of blood on his hands, and he carried a small case. His face was covered in a mask. He motioned for Vic to do the same.
The bar was empty. Vic lifted his bandanna over his mouth and nose and watched as the girls were marched out. Howe followed. He lined them up against the wall at lasgun-point.
Each one would be considered rather above 'marginally attractive' by hive standards. Howe had clothed them as best he could, in revealing garments and cheap plastek jewelry. Vic spoke to him through his mask. "How'd you put that together?" Howe shrugged. "Got an uncle who runs some bitches out of Gelt town. He gave me this shit, free of charge." Howe had such a lovely family.
Vic turned back to the whores. Each one was tattooed as to Howe's specifications-Vic had deferred to his knowledge and endless capacity for casual violence in this situation. A single line of tears were done in fine inkwork below each whore's left eye- and Vic knew that there was an Aquila clutching a boltgun and a chainsword on their lower backs -the mark of Battlefleet Osiris Naval Security, not that anyone else would know. Both markers to identify them as the property of the Crew. Vic leaned back and nodded at Howe, who grinned and turned to them.
"Alright ladies. You belong to the Slamhounds now," They'd decided to use a cover name for their pimping operation. Howe would be the street face in this case. "We have a few basic rules." He drew a laspistol. "All of which will be enforced by this weapon. Firstly. You do not run away. I have a little trick for women who run away. We cut off their ears, hamstring 'em and stake 'em down way out in the Sump past Far-town at sundown. We hear them scream all night long, but come the dawn, all that's left are bones."
The girls were quaking with fear. Vic studied the woodwork on the table intently.
"Secondly. You make sure our customers are happy. A man wants a screw and has the money, you give it to him. The more time, the more pay, the more...outlandish his request, the more pay. I want you to know though, that if he complains, I'm gong to be pissed, but if he hurts you, rapes you or robs you, you just tell me, and I'll track him down and feed him his own balls." Vic stood up and walked out of the room as Howe went on. Tyler was standing outside, throwing stones into the muddy creek that ran behind the Houndskull. The big Slice Hound skull nailed up over the door blinked with the neon lights in it's eyes.
Tyler looked sidelong at Vic then shook his head.
Vic started. "Tyler. I know it seems wrong, but-"
"But what?" Tyler turned towards him and crossed his arms. "'But it's for secrecy'? 'But it's for the good of the crew'? 'But it's what we have to do'? those girls have families. They might have boyfriends or husbands too."
"Tyler," said Vic. "We're in a rough patch, but Howe handles the girls. He's the only one with experience in that line of work."
Tyler adjusted his gun belt and shook his head. "What do you think I would do if they took Sochia, huh?"
"Howe made sure they didn't have families, Tyler. Or else he remedied that."
Tyler gave Vic a glare and turned to walk away. "Just where do you think you're going, kid?"
"The middle hive. I'm going home. Maybe I'll make sure your pet lunatic hasn't abducted her."
"Tyler, come off it, you know-" But he was gone. Vic stood there in the dark and swore. "Idiot." He looked at the sky. It'd be dawn real soon.
Howe stepped outside. "It's done boss. Maybe we'd best get to work then? Andrew and Hule still out on that job?"
Vic grunted assent. "Alright. Get them rounded up and onto the streets boy. Go on. We have a long day ahead of us."
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Post by Warork on Jul 16, 2014 2:56:28 GMT
The Doomheads: Shadows in the Night
The previous night
"Did you see the way that tattooed chick was looking at me?" Karrus asked his two companions as they walked through the dimly lit tunnel on the way back to North Cirset. The night cycle was looming but Karrus was confident they could make it back before curfew, he'd made similar trips between the domes before.
"The one with the big gun or the one with the crazy eyes?" One of the twins asked.
"Yeah that last one, their leader. First of all, what kind of gang has only women?" Karrus snorted. "Askin for trouble if you ask me."
"I dunno, boss." Kota said warily. "Those ones looked pretty badass."
"You're just saying that cause you thought that one bitch with the vox had nice tits." Syd interjected.
"Well she did, wont argue that." There was a few moments silence before Kota spoke up again. "You really think they'll be useful against the Foxes, chief?"
"There was a saying in prison boys..." Karrus began as his response. He never got to finish the sentence. The overhead lights in the tunnel that dimly lit their path suddenly flickered and went out. The three were suddenly in pitch black darkness with only the barest hint of light from the street lamps at the ends of the tunnel reaching out to them, otherwise all else was bathed in the disorienting inky blackness of the underhive's night cycle.
"Shit." He finished anticlimactically. "That's just fuckin---"
Again he was interrupted, this time by a roar unleashed from a phlem filled throat coming from the other side of the tunnel. Karrus had just enough time to turn and see a large, hulking shape barreling down on him at speed. Instinct kicked in and he dove out of the way of the shape, rolling in the darkness and scrambling back to his feet at once. A quick glance confirmed that the Skinner twins had done likewise and were also reaching for their weapons.
Karrus got a good look at the dark shape as it slowly turned back around after its charge to face them. It was rouhgly humanoid but its upper muscles were huge and distended, its arms the size of support columns, its disfigured head squished into its grotesque body where dead eyes beheld its prey. Karrus had heard stories about underhive mutants, and this one, the one the wasteland prospectors called "hive pounders" was pretty scary if the stories held true. Karrus wasn't sure where it had come from but he realized he didn't care, all he knew was that it needed to die. He raised his bolter and fired, its roar drowning out the beast's own as it charged the three once again. The smaller, tinnier chatter of the twins autoguns filled the darkness of the tunnel as well, their combined muzzle flashes painting a strobing effect on the monster that was quickly getting closer. Karrus got off three shots on the brute, watching as his gun, formerly the property of the local enforcers, tore huge chunks of flesh out of the monster's hide.
It didn't even slow down...Karrus cursed as his bolter jammed with a sudden click and looked down to see that one of the bolt shells had stuck in the weapon's breech. In the underhive it was called a "stovepipe" jam. He didn't have time to see the blow coming as the pounder lived up to its name and flung him with one blow head over heel into the opposite side of the tunnel where he bounced off the concrete wall with a meaty thump and fell to a heap on the ground.
The twins watched all of this in horror as their vaunted boss was flattened in front of them. They had no time to gawk as it turned to come for them, its legs, even though smaller than its arms, able to propel the beast swiftly towards its victims. There was no time to think about running, the twins pulled the swords from their scabbards and charged at the beast themselves. Together they rained down blow upon blow on the mutant, cutting swathes through its thick hide while also dodging its lumbering arms when it tried in vain to hit them.
This went on for several intense moments until, with another roar of animal rage, the beast swung its arm out and smashed Kota from his feet, sending his sword flying from his hand and putting him face down in the dirt several yards away, leaving Syd to face the brute alone. Kota pushed himself up after coming to, his head spun from the blow and he struggled to breathe from his stricken lungs. As he wallowed though, his hand brushed up against something next to him. He looked over to the object and wrapped his hand around his boss' chainsword where it had landed after Karrus had been sent flying. Kota picked up the device and switched it on. It thrummed to life in a moment as he charged back at the beast trying to kill his brother. Kota made a running swipe at the things legs just as it was about to bring its massive fists down on Syd. The pounder screamed and stumbled, its weight toppling onto Syd's outstretched sword where it bit deep into the thing's flesh. It roared in pain and jerked away from the twins, fleeing into the night, trailing its stinking blood all over the tunnel floor.
Silence reigned in the tunnel as the two panted and struggled to rise from their mortal combat. It had been just a few moments, but the fight had felt like an eternity to both of them.
"Shit." Syd said. "Did we just survive that?"
"Pretty sure yeah, hey boss...OH SHIT, BOSS!" Kota yelled as he suddenly recalled his employer being flung across the tunnel. It was all a blur to him. He dropped the chainsword and ran over to where Karrus lay.
"Boss!" He said as he kneeled over him, unsure what to do to the unmoving body. He rolled it over to lie on its back. "Boss, if you're alive say something!"
Kota was rewarded by a thick wad of spit being shot in his face from Karrus' seemingly lifeless body.
"Fuck you, bitch. I aint done living yet." Karrus wheezed as he rolled over to stand up. He wobbled on his feet but Syd was there to catch him.
"Easy, chief. You took a nasty blow. I can't believe you can still move."
"Well believe it." Karrus slurred. "Grab my shit and lets get the hell out of Gelt...where'd that shiteatin mutant go anyway?"
"It ran off that way." Kota said, pointing in the direction the blood trail led.
"That so?" Karrus said to no one. "HEY BITCH!" He shouted, pushing away from Syd who was helping him stand. "THAT'S RIGHT, RUN. I'LL FIND YOU AND YOUR WHORE FRIENDS SOMEDAY, AND WHEN I DO..." He stopped as he stumbled to one knee, his head still spinning from the blow he took.
"Take it easy, boss." Syd said as he helped Karrus up again. "Hey Slayer, you think boss will be alright?"
"He's still mouthing off like he's god down here." The brother said warily. "He'll be fine."
The three began their long trek back home, beaten and bloody but still in one piece.
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Back at the Kingpin, a familiar figure stood by the door. The night cycle was in full force now but even in the dim light of the street lamps, the three returning gangers and the figure by the door were able to recognize each other.
"Where the hell have you three---whoa, what happened to him?" Twinshot said from the shadow of the doorway.
"Ran into some trouble on the way back." Syd said, his boss half slumped on him as he struggled to support him after walking for so long.
"Nothing we couldn't handle." Karrus said and then coughed, although he kept that disconcerting skull grin on his face even though it was plain to see that he was in some pain. He pushed himself away from Syd and groaned.
"Ah shit, that thing hit hard."
"What thing?" Twinshot asked.
"Nothing." replied Karrus.
"A hive pounder." Kota said at the same time, bringing up the rear of the party.
"A what?!" Twinshot said, unbelieving.
"Throne dammit it doesn't matter!" Karrus insisted as he staggered through the doors. "The point is I'm fine, all I need is a damn drink and another box of lho sticks."
He opened the door to see the rest of his gang all crowded within the lobby of the hab complex they called home. He took one look around to make sure everyone was here and found that they were.
"Alright gather round." He said, waving for the others to come over and hear what he had to say. "Our little expedition has born fruit and we've got some planning to do."
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Doomhead Victory!
XP
Karrus: 16XP
- Participate in a victory 5XP
- Triumphant Leadership 10XP
- Hit an enemy 1XP
He is now at 86XP
Syd & Kota: 26XP
- Participate in a victory 5XP
- Defeat a mutant 10XP
- Hit an enemy 1XP
- Survive a battle without going down 10XP
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New abilities and serious injuries:
Karrus
- Serious injury: full recovery. Despite the odds, Karrus gets off with just some bad scrapes and bruises. Just how exactly he survived blows that could cave in the side of a building is a mystery, but it's a good story to tell at the taverns.
- +1LD
Syd
- gains the Leap trait
- +1 strength.
- gains the Infiltration trait
- +1 wound.
Kota
- +1LD.
- +1 to any characteristic.
- +1LD.
- +1 attack.
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coolyo294
Iconic
Slayer of Demons
Posts: 1,169
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Post by coolyo294 on Jul 16, 2014 4:30:46 GMT
The trio was no more than 10 paces from their new drug lab when their assailant struck.
Melissa was the first to be hit. The first sign that they were under attack was when she grunted in pain and clutched at her arm, only for the palm to come away smeared with blood.
"Oh, fuck." she muttered. Suddenly a loud whump filled the air and Melissa was knocked into the ground by a rapidly expanding mass of fibrous tendrils. They quickly grew to the point where her entire body was covered in the restrictive material in just a few seconds. And for all her struggling and threats towards the unseen assailant, they were not coming loose.
"Shit! Mona, grab Melissa! We're getting out of here" Olivier cried. But she received no answer from her second in command. Glancing over, Olivier could only watch as the heavy fell limply to the ground.
The sound of boots crunching on gravel drew her attention away from the incapacitated ganger. Whirling around, she finally saw their attacker. He was tall and shrouded by a black stormcloak and hood. In his hands he clutched a needle pistol and a webber.
"Motherfucker!" Olivier shouted. She brought her lasrifle to bear on the man and quickly let off two shots. Luckily her target was at such a close range that it was virtually impossible to miss, so both shots hit home directly on his chest. He grunted in pain and stumbled back a few steps but did not go down.
Olivier didn't even have time to fire another shot before the man's webber ensnared her. Mona, who had just recovered from the comatose state the man's needle pistol had put her in, could do nothing but sit helplessly with Melissa and watch as the man knocked out Olivier and slung her over his shoulder.
"I don't know what you fucking whores have done with Thea, but if she's dead then your leader will never see the light of day again," he sneered
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Results:
- Olivier: Kidnapped
- Mona and Melissa: Recovered and made it back to base
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