Wasteland - Chapter 4 - Junktown and Raiders - IC

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Roadrunner couldn't get the image out of her head. The sinister skeleton holding the lantern. She knew the omen meant death, but she couldn't figure out what Doc Morbid had to do with it.

Yes, she knew the man as a stern old bastard, but good at his trade in preserving life.... not taking it. Then there was the Gizmo and Killian factor. Both had been partners, now they were at eachother's throats like hungry vipers.

It didn't make sense.


She moved from her Junk Town conumdrum and looked back at Carib. The man had a way of always surviving, even when the hands of fate were tilted against him. He always rised above. A man who could walk away from anything.

RR knew that there were only a few raiders, maybe two with rifles, the rest had small hand guns and knives. But the snipers were the trouble, and though their aim wasn't crackshot, it was still fairly accurate.

Now would have been a good time as any for Inne to come to their aid.
 
OCC- Caribe- let us know what you are doing with this and move the story on. Ivan you have started a seperate fight and you're woiunded. Enough with the delays. Let's go.

ICC-

Adrenaline rush.

The sound of gunfire ahead and behind. Ivan must have run into trouble as well.

Crack of rifle fire. Rob must be giving Caribe fire.

Hopefully Caribe was on the move now.

The small group was getting stretched out, becoming isolated. The more isolated they were the easier they would fall prey.

A howl of pain. Sounded like Ivan.

Brute, still carring Sam over his shoulder, Ved and Zeke along with them.

"How far? Is this the right direction?"

"Yes keep going, we're close." Said someone.

To the side they saw blood on a rock and Ivan taking cover, his 14mm in hand.

Raiders moving around, encircling him, using cover of rocks.

Ved and Zeke stopping to fire, driving the raiders back.

Brute turned to look back towards were Caribe had been. No sign but more gunshots. Rob, crouched, taking shots.

Fuck.

Vedpose moving towards were Ivan was. Blood from a shoulder wound, one arm useless in pain, bones broken.

Melvin and Roadrunner firing with their carbines.

The raiders, armed mostly with knives and spears, retreating under their own fire.

Roadrunner saying, "We need to get these people some medical attention. That or they will bleed out."

"Ivan can you walk?"

Ivan nodding, "I can run."

"Let's go."

"What about Rob and Caribe?" Asks Ivan.

"They will catch up."

They move quickly, Ivan struggling to move despite his wound. Brute in the middle still carrying Sam. Melvin and Roadrunner nearby, carbines ready. Ved and Zeke further out.

The raiders have retreated and are hidden. No doubt regrouping. We don't see them until we get over a flat dry patch and then through a rocky ridge, over and down.

We keep moving now, we are within range of safety.

The sound of rifles pop behind and to the left.

Raiders, under cover, firing down but at a distance, others using the cover to approach.

"Keep going!"

We are sprinting now. Beyond the effective range of Raider rifles. Brute hears the crack of a stray bullet.

Like banshees or wildmen, the raiders scream out their warcries, coming at us with knives and machetes and spears. A glimpse reveals that they are too many of them to fight off with the weapons we have.

It's a race for the walls. Under weight and fatigue we are getting slower while they close in on us. The walls of the town are made of sheets of steel and rubber tires, and we can see the walls more clearly.

We are running, running with our last breathes. I can see Ivan gasping for breath, the blood flowing freely under his wound. Melvin and Roadrunner can barely continue, and Ved and Zeke are worried that their comrades fall.

We are nearly there. But the raiders are close now. We won't make it.

We finish crossing another flat when we stop and turn to bring down as many of our pursuers as we might before we are overcome. We draw our guns, try to catch our breath.

Hands unsteady from our exhaution we will wait till they close with us, and our aim is more true.

Brute and Ivan raise their pistols. Ivan says, "Aim true." Zeke and Ved are aiming their guns at their targets. The blooding will be rapid and violent.

But before the group can fire their last volley, a fusilade is fired from the left. The lead raiders fall, but the others stop.

The fire comes from an unexpected source and they are stunned. Another fusilade cuts down more of them and they waver and begin to fall.

Ivan, Dwemer, Vedpose and Zeke begin to fire quickly as Melvin and Roadrunner take more careful shots. The raiders break and run.

They fire until the raiders are out of range.

Where are Rob and Caribe?

A man stands up to the left as another runs over to the group.

The man standing up calls out. "Lars, see what you can salvage from those raiders and better send up up a squad to flush out any raider snipers up in the hills. My bet is they are going to call it a night and lick their wounds."

Someone else calls back. "Got it Killian. Looks like the Khans will be leaving us alone for awhile."

The one called Killian calls back, "If Garl has any common sense he won't try us again."

The man who approaches the group says, "Names Kalnor. I'm generally the welcoming committee and tell you the rules for Junktown. Sorry about the bastards. Anyway welcome. Looks like you got wounded so you might want to check Dr. Morbid. Just don't leave your wounded alone with him, if I was you. Mind your manners and you won't have no problems."
 
The Cavalry had arrived, and Carib lowered his pistols, the raiders were being pushed back by men in green leather armor. Men, O'Reilly, The Junk Town Scouts, he surmmized. One hailed him, and Carib returned the hail.

"Thanks for saving my ass," Carib said, as he came towards one of the rifle wieldling scouts. The man gave a chuckle. A scarred, stubbloy faced man in his early thirties. Carib knew him as Carl, one of the many scouts of Junk Town. A good man and Carib had known him from some previous job.

"No thanks needed, Carib. You helped us out a few times before. We owe you. Besides," The Scout spat into the sand. "Its fun poppin' Khans than sitting around and just waiting for a pot to piss in."

The ex-Water Pirate laughed heartily. "OH, well, it would be good to get some bed rest and maybe a shower."

Carib began his journey towards the city of junk. A city built from scracth. Made of scavenged materials from after the war.

"Time to see my brother."
 
Richard took a good look at the makeshift fortifications before entering. Rather odd, the junk ramparts seemed to have more of an artistic & dramatic purpose than for defense. Chaotic piles of junk, yet they seemed to breath a certain charm.

Or maybe Richard was just being emotional after yet again having escaped death.

Only two thoughts were on his mind now: doing some quick shopping for supplies & hitting the sack early...
 
Zeke decided as soon as he entered the gates that he would get a drink and some lunch, and thats precisely what happened. Zeke found himself a nice diner where he bought an ancient can of beer and a large gecko pastrami sandwich dripping with mustard.

After finishing he decided to do what he did best. Wander. So he went from shop to shop looking around and mumching at his pastrami. As he rounded one particular corner he saw an old black man sitting on his porch. A dog was lying on it's side breastfeeding five or six puppies.

Hey man are any of those for sale?

The old man looked up. Why yes as a matter of fact they are. All of em but the one with the red eyes. That lil guy is mine.

Zeke took a close look at the pup that the old man had indicated wasn't for sale. Right as he went to brush it it turned and ripped a small piece of leather from the back of one of his gloves.

Ahh Shit! No wonder he aint for sale. Whats his name?

I been calling him Dogshit after what he eats, but my grandson has taken to calling him Dogmeat due to his good manners.

Zeke decided he didn't want this dog in particular and took a look at the others. One in particular caught his eye. A wolfish pup with a thick coat and blue eyes.

I think I want that one.

After a quick transaction Zeke walked away with a new companion. He gave it a piece of gecko from his sandwich and over the next few minutes no matter how well he ran or hid he couldn't fool it. Finally in an exhasuted huff Zeke said. You know what boy, I think I'm gonna call you chase.
 
**three days ago from present**
drip

He was dead.

drip

Or was he always dead?

drip

He couldn’t really figure that one out. He was right here, in the endless darkness…waiting.

drip

the rope around his wrists and ankles tore at his skin if he struggled, so he didn’t bother. The dirty cloth around his mouth dulled his tastes, so he preferred not to speak.. There nothing to see so he never knew if he had his eyes open or not. There nothing to hear aside from water drops falling in front of him. At least he thought it was his front.

Drip

He could whimper or cry, but nobody listened. Nobody cared. He could try to move but it was useless for he never got anywhere aside from receiving pain. That was all his days were now, pain and suffering but that was the same for everybody. He knew that nothing he could do would make that change. This is what led him to wonder if he was alive and or he died and was in hell to pay for his punishments, for sins he never truly did.

drip…GROWR!

He squirmed slightly at the growl only to realize it was his stomach. The emptyness made it sound like a molerat which was stupid since nothing existed here aside from himself, which even then was in question. He sighed, he wondered and thought a crazy question as to when he was going to be fed. Maybe when you were dead, you were always hungry? When he was younger he had seen the holodisk movies of army of zombies attacking and eating whole towns, maybe this is what it feels like to be them. To feel eternal pain, suffering and hunger. He could see why they wiped out those towns.

Kreee~SLAM!
He whimpered in pain as he shut his eyes tightly as the darkness exploded into light. He knew there was someone above him. He knew who the person was and what he must do. He slowly opened his eyes so they can adjust as he looked up from his hole-in-the-ground prison. What he saw made him want to close his eyes again.

No no NO! This is all wrong! He knew the man was old, but he wasn’t a zombie! The zombie leaned down towards him, hanging a lamp down as if he couldn’t see already, which made cadian only squirm and wish he was smaller. The doctor hat on the zombie’s head and the black buttoned up coat made him only look more morbid. Cadian cowered and cried tears of blood in great fear as the fleshless maw of the zombie opened as if to speak.

"Wake Up!"

---

Cadian Jumped in his seat, his eyes darting about anxiously. What the hell was that!? His body relaxed a little as he remember where he was. He was in the Hub, sitting down in one of the few pews left in the small abandoned church. He knew where most of the nightmare came from but the ending was certainly different. He quickly tried to wipe his tears off his cheeks only to jump again in surprise at the sight of his sleeve now red. He actually did cry blood. Did he sleep in a hot zone?. He checked the rest of his body for any sores but sighed in relief when he didn’t find any.

"Hey kid, I’m talking to you!"

He frowned as he put on his goggles again, turning around to see what one of Decker’s flunkies. They should know better than to wake him up so suddenly. He had no idea what he was thinking a few days ago but something deep in the back of his mind told him to do what he did. Now he belonged to the mob boss until the debts were paid, debts that weren’t even his in the first place. "Yeah? What is it?" He replied, some what annoyed yet relieved that he got woken up.

The flunkie glared at him though obviously it was all show. Cadian’s quick reputation in the city underground of being almost being inhumanly effeicent would shake even the most infamous of thugs. This made Decker all the more intimidating and powerful to his opponents. "The boss wants to see you."

Cadian nodded and grabbed his stuff slowly, knowing for a fact that he was getting on the flunkie’s nerves but wouldn’t try to do anything.. he finally slung his rifle over his shoulder and walked to the flunkie before heading to the Maltese Falcon with him. He knew what the boss most likely wanted and didn’t really mind for now. He check his compass which pointed northeast. He still had a goal that he couldn’t remember but for now he’ll just do what he must here.
 
Darion… Darion…. It was the name that the raiders were shouting after the last shots were fired in the engagement. Vedpose could only figure that it was one the raider leaders that they had shot down, or maybe one who found cover but wasn’t able to get back the main group as they retreated. Still, it probably didn’t matter either way. Coming to Junktown was a different story. It did matter.

Kyrie was no doubt here. Valkyrie Freya… Passionate… Ruthless… Cunning… A bit psychotic… She was, without doubt, the perfect mercenary assassin for those employers looking for someone who loved what they did. Ved was never really sure how she had met up with her, and even less sure about why they had been able to form such a sensual, spiritual, and emotional bond for as long as they had. But uncertainty was the principal that had separated them nearly a year ago, the uncertainty of Kyrie and her emotions.

Kyrie, or Valkyrie as her employers knew her, was plagued with untold mental disorders, a real find for any young, ambitious Psychiatrist in our day. Was she a sociopath, maniac depressive, bi-polar, schizophrenic, or some combination of those and more? Vedpose could only guess through what she knew and had observed. Kyrie could be normal for long periods of time and then other times she would lapse into periods of completely uncontrollable emotion-driven action. She would injure or kill people just for looking at her and would shot at random people passing by her.

The final straw was drawn when the two of them were up north and Kyrie kidnapped a 14 year old girl without Ved’s knowledge, molested her, and was going chopped her up for food. It was by far the most disturbing thing Kyrie had ever done. When Vedpose walked in on Kyrie cutting flesh from the outer thigh of the still living young women, she could only react out of shock.

Ved’s hands began to shake visibly, her face turned a milky and flushed color, and her whole body went numb and tingling. She remembered that she had placed her hand over her mouth, pressing her lips into her incisors to the point of drawing blood. An anesthetizing fear and utter shock had overcome her. Her breathing had stopped and it felt like her heart had as well. If it wasn’t for its deafening presence in her ears, she may have very well believed that it had stopped. As Kyrie removed a piece of the girl and placed on a table behind her, Vedpose let out a gasp at seemed to bring her out of her shock induced stupor and Kyrie’s eyes to her.

“I take it that you doubt approve my dear, dear sweet Vedpose, but I doubt that you would. The purity, the knowledge of this girl was squandered, so I decided to take it, to take it for us, for our love. It’s my gift to you.” Kyrie’s voice was sincere in very haunting manor.

“No...” Vedpose breathed deeply and at random not knowing what to say.

“No? Very well, you’ll make a proper offering.” Kyrie reached for a type of taser she carried and an unarmed Vedpose ran for the door. She narrowly escaped or maybe Kyrie meant for her to do so because the last thing that Ved heard as she ran out the house, was the sound of Kyrie’s Voice, “We will finish this, my love. We will finish this in Junktown. You will come. You’ll see”

Vedpose thought of that last day she walked into the dump that was Junktown. Apparently her occupied state of mind was fairly obviously.

“Are you alright, Ved?” It was Brute which was a little strange as the two of them rarely spoke to one another. It wasn’t that they didn’t care for one another, just that Brute always seemed to busy with his own business and problems and she with hers.

“I’m fine. I just need to get this dried blood out of my hair,” replied Ved. Brute didn’t seem entirely convinced. Still, he never really seemed the type to try to pry too deep into other’s affairs. Vedpose walked off and looked for a place to remove the sandy dirt and blood mixture they that ran through out here from the head wound inflicted by the raiders knowing that some time soon the final act would have to be played out.
 
OCC- ok first lets take care of the wounded. Caribe and Rob, time to bring this back in.


IC-

As Ved began to walk away, Brute called out. "Hold on. Let's get that head wound looked at. I heard they had a doctor here."

Brute was more worried about Ivan, as the wound looked more serious. Roadrunner had done the best she could in bandaging. However, Brute remembered the aftermath of the Vipers-Rovers battle, and how infected wounds could become lethal.

From what Brute could see, Junktown didn't look like much. Even so, Melvin seemed interested and was wondering away. That made Brute think about the supplies for the group and about the quest.

"Melvin?" Asked Brute.

"Just seeing about the ladies."

"Be careful." Said Brute. "See if you can find out where we can get supplies. Also, tell me if you find out anything about a waterchip."

Melvin nodded and wandered off. Brute shrugged. Melvin could look after himself. At the end of town were a couple of signs- the Skum Pit, Gizmos. Apparently Junktown had some nightlife. Chances were they would meet up there.

The others had already begun to wander about the wasteland town, hopefully looking for supplies. One of the local guards pointed Brute in the direction of Dr. Morbid.

At the sound of the name Roadrunner trembled. She had seemed distant, troubled since they arrived. Maybe she was worried about Caribe and Rob who had not come in yet.

"Roadrunner?" Dwemer asked.

"I don't like this place." She said, perhaps reading his mind.

"Why?"

"A darkness is coming. From the South."

As usual she spoke in abstracts that Brute didn't fully comprehend, but whose meaning was clear enough. Besides, she had proven to be rarely wrong.

One of the guards walked past Brute and asked, "Hey ya here for the fights? I think Gizmo's got a bout latter tonight."

Brute shook his head, "Just got into town, first time here. Who is Gizmo? What fights?"

"Gizmo? Owns the gambling joint at the end of town. He's a partner with Killian and is half responsible for Junktown. As for the fights, a good way to earn some caps, friend."

Brute had come to appreciate the fact that caps were the currency of wealth and that their little group was painfully short of them.

A midget wandered up to the group, looked over Ved and Ivan, shook his head. "Bad. Hurt. Needs fixin." Then to Brute. "Heya. Want Mordid, ya follow eh."

Taking that to mean that the dwarf would lead them to Morbid, Brute followed.

Roadrunner said in a whisper, "Don't let Ivan or Ved out of your sight aroudn the doctor."
 
Ivan muttered as he was brought towards the doctor's office.

"I am bear, I don't need a fleshcarver. Ill just pry it out with a knife and pour "firewater" over it to sterilize...."

He shook his head, tossing off the support for his arm.

"Thank you but I'm fine, really. I dont need to see this Doc Morbid. Really..."

Ivan had never let anyone know but, well he hated needles. Always had as a child (even stims), and "doctors" left little to the imagination as regards skill in this day and age. He wouldnt trust one with a toaster, let alone going near his shoulder or "anywhere else".

As they entered the office, he looked about before slugging down several shots worth of vodka in two gulps. Doc Morbid made his way in, and Ivan quickly rushed him. Two handfuls of lab coat, he lifted the poor bastard clean off the ground despite the shoulder wound. As the midget approached him, Ivan merely shouldered him away, sitting Doc Morbid down on the table forcefully. Ivan's eyes almost burned with the false rage of alcohol behind.

"I'm just fine, fine ok?! If-if you screw up Ill rip your eyes out and skullfuck you, Doc. That's a promise. So hurry up and bandage my friend and I. H-him first...and I'm watching you. Got anythin' to eat around here???"

Ivan gazed about the office, looking over bloody utensils and the cooler in the corner.
 
Morbid didn't seem very happy with this, and Ivan might have protested some more, but the midget stuck him in he ass with a needle.

Ivan had enough energy to bring his arm back to prepare a heavy smack on the dwarf, but the drug too effect and he collapsed.

"I can't have a patient who threatens me." Said the doctor. "It makes my hands shake and it is not good."

Brute nodded. "It's fine. I'll watch over him but his promise remains."

"Yes," Said the doctor, "but the price his now higher because we need to use drugs. Do you have enough coin?"

When Morbid told Brute the price. It was like a light had gone on. Brute had forgotten about money and had no caps with which to pay.

He looked to Vedpose, who has a small bag of caps. "This is not enough. Not if you want good work. However, we might be able to work out a deal."

Brute looked to Roadrunner and was surprised to find that she had not entered the shop. She remained outside, looking up at the sign above Morbid's shop.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

"I'm not going in there." She said solemnly.

"We need money to pay for Ivan's work." Said Brute.

Roadrunner found her bag of coins and passed it over. "It's not much."

Indeed it was very little.

"What about the others?"

Roadrunner brightened up. "I'll find them and see what I can collect." She seemed happy to be leaving that place.

Brute added Roadrunner's caps to those from Vedpose. "Yes, but still not enough. The drugs alone, and the stitches..."

"Just do what you can for Vedpose first."

An hour later Zeke showed up with more coins. "You can thank Melvin for these, but don't ask him where he got 'em."

"Where is he?" Asked Brute.

"Doing his usual."

"And Roadrunner?"

"She's telling fortunes near the Skum Pit. By the way, there's a rumor going round that you are going to be fighting tonight."

"I hadn't planned on this." Said Brute, surprised at the turn of events.

"Yeah, well you might want to consider it, being as we're a bit hard up for cash."
 
Zeke perked up at the mention of a fight.

Sign me up. The more of us that enter the better chance we will win. And besides, if I end up fighting Brute I can throw the match and get him an easy advance to the next round.

Zeke looked at Ved who was dazed from the hit to the head.

On second thought maybe I can win it myself.
 
Carib handed some coins to Brute, "For Ivan. Keep an eye on Morbid." He gave a cold glance at Doc Morbid, that kind that showed the good doctor to take care, or Junk Town would be short of a doctor.

"My brother said he will take care of you all... I have to meet him. I have to... " Carib's words seemed to die in his throat, as he showed those few expressions of emotion. "You can hop on by when you guys are fixed."
 
Vedpose tried her best to protest seeing this Doc. Morbid. Being a doctor of sorts herself, she strongly disliked having to be looked over by another medical practitioner. But she knew full well that she had little other choice. Her level of conciseness was getting worse, worse than she then knew as she would enlighten her later on. Still she wished that she could just take care of the wound herself.

“Okay, lie back.”

Vedpose conformed to the Doctor’s wishes, if only to just get it over with. A few stitches and a small amount of disinfectant later, she was finished free to leave.

”Just remember, no sleep for twelve more hours unless you want fall into a coma.” Doc Morbid smiled a bit as the final part, an eerie, almost ghastly smile that sent Vedpose a little of egde.

“Yeah, okay sure. I guess I’ll go watch this fight of your’s, Zeke.” Vedpose got and walked out the door into back into the town that looked like somewhat of visual frenzy due to the lingering blurriness caused by her head wound.
 
Roadrunner had come running from the Pitt, holding up her dress to collect the many bottle caps she had gathered since her work at the Bar.

It was fund raising time, and RR had put in the extra mile. Actually, it was share luck that everyone who came to her she was able to actually read something they needed to know. She never used her power for profit or greed, only in need or need of a friend.

The guards nodded, thier smile was a thankful smile. The one called Heth was told his son would return with riches from the wastes. And he had recieved a radio message from his son telling him he had made his fortune.

The next one, Geroge had won big at Gizmo's. And Gizmo's casino odds were like Vegas odds.

She came to Brute, her arms holding up the coins.

"I have money to help. We hit good today, my fortunes came."
 
Dwemer-

SMACK-
The first blinding flash of pain meant that this was a bad idea.

Saul hadn't looked that big.

Yeah, I have him in arms length and muscle.

WHAM!!!

(now where did that uppercut come from).

Legs feeling a bit lighter

But then what about experience.

Backwards, backwards, backwards.

Legs?

Throws Jab Jab. Connects with shoulder, forarm.

WHAM. (Is that my broken nose that feels numb?)

THrows Punch.

Empty air. Overextended.

Saul is not a stupid as he looks.

"Dance you motherfucker, Dance!" Probably JOhn Sullivan, trying to give advice.

Duck duck

BAM BAM. Block Damn, those are my ribs you're trying to break.

WHACK. Cross to the face.

What's that echo?

"Brute, put up your guard" Roadrunner.

Sounds like a good idea.

Duck now. Keep it close. Upper Cut to the Jaw.

Connects.

Ok so Sual doesn't have a glass jaw.

Another Body hit to the mid section.

He's hitting the top of my head. I'm going to have a headache for a week.

Hard punch to the body, another, another, up to the chin.

Saul's moving back. Yeah.

WHAM! Fucker hit me in the ear!

Upper cut with the right, cross with the left.

Body exposed.

WHAM!

Air!

BAM! to the chin.

Legs are off the ground.

BOOM. Shoulders on the ground.

Like a tree coming down.

Are those stars the night sky or the consequence of a concussion.

"3....... 4..... 5....."

WHat happened to 1 and 2?

Getting up. Legs unsteady.

"Get away from him boyo!"

Sullivan.

Arms up again.

BAM- BAM-BAM!

Saul is pumpling my head trying to get to the head. Watch for the body shots.

How did Melvin talk me into this?

How long will this last?

Jab to his nose.

Gave him a bloody nose. Damn things been broken so many times.

Another shot to his eye.

DING!!!!

Fuck that was round 1.

Back to the corner, Stool. Someone puts water on my head. Roadrunner.

"First time doing this Brute?" Caribe. Smartass.

Mumbles, "If I don't die here, I'm going to kill Melvin for this."

"Brute you can take him." Says Roadrunner.

"Doubt it." Says John Sullivan, young smartass know-it-all pugilist. "Brute's got the strength but Saul's got the experience."

Melvin whispers. "Trish says Saul is blind to his left. and moves badly in that direction. "

"How the fuck do you know that?" Asks Zeke.

Melvin winks. "Girl is off during the day when Saul's training. They been having trouble."

Caribe begins to move towards Saul's corner.

Sullivan is saying something about "dance boy, dance." But dancing doesn't hurt this much.

DING!

Brute sees Caribe in Saul's corner.

Saul comes out like a raging bull. Little of the discipline and skill of round one.

Wonder what Caribe said.

It's clear to Brute that if he doesn't side step , Saul will run him over.

Brute steps to the left.

Melvin sees that Saul's eyes are on him and that the giant aims to kill him.

Brute's fist connects with Saul as he begins to bypass. Saul is caught off guard and turned, Brute keeps rotating to the Saul's left, hits him again, and again.

Saul turns his fury loose on Brute, but it's not disciplined.

Brute ducks under Saul's broad sweep. It's not boxing anymore. Upper cut to the chin. Saul goes back.

Then ducks down and grabs Brute around the body and picks him up, carrying him across the floor and bangs him against the post.

But now Brute is enraged, he rolls away to the left and again delivers a series of blows to the head.

Saul's legs suddenly collapse under him. A ref jumps in and pushes Brute back.

On the count of 7 Saul is back up on his legs but he's dizzy now.

Brute comes in. Again taking advantage of the left. Brute delivers a hard shot to the chin and Saul's head turns.

When he falls it's final. By the count of ten Saul still has not up.

Sound is white noise. Pain becomes the dominant sensation. Brute's body aches in more places than he can count, and where it doesn't hurt, it's numb.

He can barely hear the words his whispers to Roadrunner. "Get me out of here so I can go someplace quiet and die."
 
Carib had been watching the fight wencing with every punch received to Brute's body. Ryan O'Reilly stood next to his brother. The color in skin was different. Carib had brown skin, tanned bronze by the rays of the sun, and the heritage of his mother, and Ryan was pale fleshed with red hair and a cool face. A kindly face that held a tragic smile. They were opposites, but they got along like the best of brothers. The clan wasn't too far away. Ryan and his wife Rachael stood next to Carib.

"The man is made of steel to take that punishment, Car." Ryan said with both respect and horror.

Carib nodded. "Yup. He may be soft in the head afterwards. Saul has friggin' titanium laced in his knuckles. But Brute will be fine. The Gypsy will tend his wounds, maybe even give him the 'champion's' treatment." Carib sipped on the Nuka Cola.

Rachael gave Carib a chop in the arm. "Yer never goin' to change, eh, Pirate?"

Carib chuckled inbetween the smile. "You know me... once a Pirate always pirate. Besides, its good to be with family."

Rachael gave a smile. "Yer always welcome."

Carib stood silent for a while, as he thought of the price on his head and gave Ryan a mournful look. He didn't want any harm coming towards his family. They were all he had left in this dark anbd evil world.
 
Slowly, Ivan faded in and out of consciousness, barely discerning blobs of figures about him. The lights were bright, way too godamn bright for this mole person and he turned his head, grunting feebly through the drug induced haze. He had awoken far earlier tha expected, earlier than the doctor seemingly wished. Yet, why?

"Keep.......still.......meat....."

He shook his head, trying to discern what was going on. A handclench...yes it still worked. That means he had muscle control, within reason based on the straps holding him. Idly, he wondered if that midget was sledging his forehead, as it drummed like well, a drum. Pain....not the sharp pain of before, but sort of an inevitable achiness about him. Shoulder felt better, though what was that glinting object in the doctor's hand???

"Mr...uh......w...wh...what g-g-going....o-on?" He murmured, shaking his head. Relying on others made him extremely anxious, and those needles....he knew they were around here, somewhere.
 
Wehn Zeke's turn to fight rolled around he stood from his chair, and stepped into the ring.

Zeke handed his vest to Roadrunner revealing for the first time to his group the back of his T-shirt which was a drunk smiley face bleeding from the nose. For some reason the image just seemed to fit this situation perfectly.

After taking off his leather gloves and pocketing them Zeke began to do a warm up dance throwing punches at nothing and skipping on the balls of his feet.

DING!

The other man rushed forward. He was Zeke's size and a little bit lighter.

Wham a hit landed on Zeke's side glancing off.

Wham Whud Thock. Three hits to Tiny's skull.

The little man reeled backwards holding his temple.

Zeke blinked and then CLACK his teeth clicked together as an uppercut hit his jaw.

Zeke threw a few test jabs at smallfry, and was rewarded with a return jab to his ribs. Zeke winced in pain as another jab landed on his cheek.

A hard righthook followed by a left haymaker and the little man was down for the count.

"1...2...3...4...5...6..."

The bastard rose to his feet.

DING!

Zeke fell into his stool rubbing his cheek. Encouragement was coming from all of his friends and even Chase was barking at him with a stupid dog grin.

DING!

Zeke and Tiny circled each other warily throwing punches and testing defense.

Zeke dropped his defense and pointed to his left "Hey look a flock of turtles!"

Tiny was instantly confused and Zeke threw a sucker punch into his nose.

The small man dropped like a wet sack-o-shit, and after a count Zeke was declared winner.
 
Screams, yells, excitement. Richard wondered what was going on. It had to be about 2 in the morning when he woke up.

So, Junktown had an active nightlife? He rose, put on his cloths & grabbed his gear. Appearantly the locals were having a boxing contest. Richard was never really entertained with that kind of thing, but a nice cold brew was always welcome. Distracted & uninterested he did not even notice that it was one of his friends in the ring. His mind was poundering on other matters: the sudden departure of Sam.

Richard hoped to see her again someday. And if luck wasn't on his side, he would lend fate a hand & go looking for this 'Brotherhood of Steel' she was supposed to be part of.
 
"Kuso." Lindy muttered under her breath, her head hanging as she walked down the street in the beating sun/. "it wasn’t my fault that the place burned down like that. Why the hell did they have flammable drapes near the stove in the first place??

It was midday and it was blazing hot already. Just the right time make Lindy fry as she walked away from what remained of her last decent job. She really like that job too. She sighed in exasperation and began to check her money pouch until she realized it wasn’t there. Her head sank further and groaned. "I forgot. I spent it at the casino."

Taking a deep breath to let the moment pass by, she quickly snapped out of it. She smiled as she looked about. "where to go now? No money or food. Hehe, I guess it’s time to check out Junktown again." She beamed., though she began to recall the last time she was there and the unfortunate events that occurred. "I wonder if Gizmo’s guards still remember me."

She didn’t want to walk because it’d take too long to get there and yet she didn’t want to leave Chibi-chan out there all alone, waiting for her owner to come back. There was no way the caravan will even want to be anywhere close to them. She stopped, pondered for a minute before smiling and running out of the city.

**an hour later**

"Excuse me, sir?"

"Hmm?" The water merchant turned around. Looking down to see the dirty face of a sad Japanese girl and her small shrouded companion. He gave a comforting smile. "yes, how can I help you two?"

"Can we join your caravan to Junktown?"

"Do you have a ticket?"

Both Lindy and the shrouded companion disappointedly looked down at the ground. "No.."

"then I’m sorry, miss." the merchant turned back around to continue his work on getting ready, stopping yet again once he began to hear the choking cries of the girl.

Indeed, she was crying as she knelt close to the ground, tears falling to the cracked dry ground. Through a shaking voice she spoke. "You…you don’t understand. My parents got killed by raiders and my little sister and I have been…been living on the street for months now; Surviving on nothing but dead rats and months old nuke cola. We can’t even get parents to adopt us because my little sister is too ugly to the eyes."
With that, the shrouded companion looked away and gave a irritated snort at being called ‘ugly’. The girl continued. "..and…and just recently my sister has gotten violently ill. I asked the doctor here to cure her but he said that the only treatment for the disease came from Dr. Morbid. So please…please let us on the caravan!"

Moments went by in silences except for the echoing din of the city. She frowned as she continued to stare at the ground, getting the feeling that the merchant didn’t buy it. she wouldn’t have blamed him if he didn’t; it was a really crappy story that she could only think up. This only made her quite surprised when she was given a tight yet comforting hug from the merchant, his breath ragged he began get teary. "My poor, poor child. I feel your pain. I know what it’s like to be a little girl once.". He let her go and stood back up, wiping the tears from his eyes. "You…you and your sister can go ahead. The passenger carriage is at the back."

Trying her best not to be disturbed at the comment he made, she gave a thankful smile and a quick bow, hurriedly scooting her ‘sister’ and herself to the passenger carriage. The reflection of tinted goggles greeted her. She beamed a smile him cheerfully before helping Chibi up into the carriage. "Oh! Hiya Cadia-san!."

Cadian rolled his eyes though it couldn’t be seen through his eyewear, his head giving a slight bow in return. He really couldn’t believe the lack of luck he was having today. First the nightmare, then Decker wanting him to ‘talk’ to an old man who was coincidentally called Dr. Morbid (he refrained from telling the boss the relationship between the name and his nightmare, as it wasn’t his business.), now the last person he wanted to see decided the need to go to Junktown as well.

She giggled as she pulled out her gear from underneath Chibi’s thick shroud and set it down between them, crossing her legs to be more comfortable. "Thank you so much for helping me at the Falcon a few days ago, I don’t know what I would have done if you didn’t come in."

The young man could still remember the unfortunate occurrence of their meeting. He was sitting at the bar, filling up his supply of water when She had come into the casino to gamble, not surprisingly losing more money than she had with her within minutes to the slots and tables. Not intending to pay the debt, she tried to sneak her way out only to be caught and taken to talk to Decker. For some reason that even Cadian himself doesn’t know, the boy stepped in and made a deal with the mob boss to make the debt his own and let the girl go. For the passed week he has tried best not to remember how stupid he was.

He curiously glanced at small shrouded person for a moment before focusing on the shrinking city as the caravan began to move. He didn’t really want to know what the girl’s companion looked like. It didn’t matter.

Lindy stared at for a few moments at the young man, hoping that he would begin talking or something. Five minutes later, she gave up on that dream and toyed with her cards as the caravan made it’s journey.

**Present Day**


In rear of the surrounding crowd, ‘Crimson’ Cadian watched the fighting matches intently. It was always best to know how these people fight for you never knew if they would be after you later. After a rather bulky man barely won his match, His eyes caught the girl. Something about her just stood out but the young man couldn’t place it. He took out his compass and looked at it. It pointed straight at her. Moments ticked away as he felt he had finally reached his destination but didn’t know what to do. The brute and the girl began to leave the crowd and Crimson followed slowly behind, his steps naturally moving him around cover and in the darkness.

As the couple turned a corner, He took the shortcut through the alley only to be stopped by halfway by a dozen men. Their metal armor glinting from the scarred moon above, arrogant sneers on their faces. "Are You the man they call Crimson?" Cadian gave an irritated frown which only made the henchmen smile even wider. "our boss would like a little word with you."

Cadian tried to continue walking but the goons only tightened their circle around him. His frown deepened. "Whoever he is, I’m not looking for a job"

Zzap!

Cadian dropped to the floor, his back spiralling with pain. The chuckle of the men around him only made his anger grow.

"Our boss doesn’t take no for an answer." The henchman amusedly replied.

***
Chibi smacked her tail boredly against the ground. The large amount of people made terrified but her mistress dragged her here for some reason. She tilted her head up slightly to get a better view of her owner but making sure the hood stayed on. She hissed softly in boredom as she noticed Lindy playfully chatting and making passive flirts to another woman with a few stitches on her head. She wondered when she was going to be fed. She licked her golden scales around her mouth at the thought of food. Maybe there was a rat about somewhere…
 
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