Storms of Steel and Diesel - A Mad Maxian RP (Started; PM if Interested)

DarkRawen

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"N-no, Izzy fine. Not Izzy's blood...Oh! Umm, sorry Cor, Izzy no looking for your stuff. Stupe over there. Jus' tossed shit e'erywhere, t'nk sum stuff gots jumbled...best you look youself; af'er all, Cor gonna know Cor's stuff."

Cor frowned when Izzy stepped away. He would have liked to make sure she hadn't hurt herself -was possible she could simply not have noticed the pain yet- but he nodded. "Okay. If it starts hurting, let me know, okay? And..." he trailed off, how many times had he apologized now? It was a stinging realization, he was supposed to be responsible, grown up, yet she seemed to be doing better on her own, without his idiotic ideas and ideals. Cor started walking back to the crates, hopefully all his stuff was fine. If not... well, he wasn't going to get into an argument over it, but he was going to be pretty angry.

A thought stuck in the back of his head re-surfaced.

It's a miracle we're alive. We were almost eaten by maniacs.

Everyone were maniacs, but the cannibal sort was especially nasty. He and his parents had once tended to one, though they hadn't realized that before the guy threw up heaps of blood without any signs of internal bleeding. Cor was so naive at the time, about 10 years old, that his parents had to explain why a man with no real injuries apart from a slight head one, could be throwing up blood. He remembered the feeling of confusion and then, suddenly, realization. Then a mix of disgust and curiosity.

Nasty people.

At least they were alive. At least it seemed like it would be okay, though he wondered if Izzy blamed him. Perhaps he should talk to her, though as he saw her being approached by the other woman there, he quickly gathered his stuff.

She probably won't hurt her. That is... both. Neither of them. But still.

Cor checked over the crates another time, as well as the surroundings, then entered the wag. Taking a seat -not particularly comfortable- further back, he flashed a careful smile towards Izzy.

I hope we'll get away soon.

Then he started putting his bag and other items next to him. When he got to the lighter, he instead started flicking it, taking a bit of relief in watching the tiny flame going back and forth on top of it, burning with a calmness he found solace in.
 

Athol

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Looking up from what she was doing as the tek shifted, Izzy saw the other woman who?d been stuck in the can with her and Cor. While she fiddled about with a big piece of paper, Izzy went back to whet she was doing under the hood?mostly cursing the idiots that had let the vehicle in such a shit state.

After using some found cans to scav some oil and coolant from the wrecked pigrig, she topped up what needed fluids in the front end and sighed. Dis gonna be bad, but Izzy need know how bad.

Using a wrench to rap on the window mesh, she then waved said wrench at the woman in the passenger seat. ?Hey lady, need you t? crank moto fer moment ?kay?? ?Umm, okay.? Came the slightly unsure reply. While Izzy disappeared back into the engine bay, the woman fiddled about with the cobbled together ignition for the tek. After a bit of difficulty, she started the engine, but cut power as soon as she saw Izzy?s waving arm.

?Useless tit lickers?? Izzy muttered. The engine was badly out of tune, there was possibly some rod knock, and she was pretty sure at least one cylinder wasn?t working at all. Hope we not too far from decent ville. She thought, as she made some adjustments. Dunno how long dis t?ing gonna last?even if we supa nice. Calling on the other woman to crank the engine a few more times, Izzy tweaking the engine as best she could with what tools she had on hand.

Finally emerging from the engine bay, grease streaked and annoyed; Izzy stretched before slamming the hood. ?Dats as best Izzy can do for dis shit-box.? Looking back into the tek, she blinked in surprise at seeing a familiar face in the back seat. ?Hey Cor!? She said brightly. ?Find yer stuff?? Clambering into the driver?s seat, she made a few more disgusted noises at the state of the controls before turning to look at the woman beside her. ?So, who?re you?? She asked. ?Me is Izzy, rube back der is Cor?nice enough if bit too helpy for out here.? She added, grinning and sticking her tongue out at the man.
 

Tortilla the Hun

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May 7, 2011
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"So, who're you? Me is Izzy, rube back der is Cor...nice enough if bit too helpy for out here."

If she hadn't just witnessed the girl tear someone's face apart with her own face, she might find the childlike nature endearing. But she had witnessed it, and the girl's demeanor was jarring and quite frankly unsettling. Kids grew up fast in this world but did so in their own time. The self-appointed navigator suspected Izzy, like too many others, was not given that opportunity. She almost felt pity for her.

Briefly, the woman looked back at Cor as he was introduced and noted his fixation with the lighter. Her eyes turned back to Izzy. She tried for a smile but once the corners of her mouth turned it just didn't feel right. It was a hollow expression. Perhaps it would be for the best if she could at least show the kid some cheer in hopes she may see things in a better light. But if Izzy was as damaged as the woman though she was, she'd have better luck wringing water from the dust. She looked down. Then back to the map. "Aquila. My name is Aquila."

Several feet from the shipping container, the large man started to get himself on his feet. It was no small effort. He was weary, and he had to keep his left arm held up to keep its weight from pulling his wound open. Both arms were folded across his stomach when he shakily stood from where he had knelt. The struggle was visible on his face, as much as he wished it wasn't. But that struggle was over. And his throat was parched. He glanced at Rasp, considering asking the wiry man if could find him some water. He decided against it. A mixture of pride and shame returned his focus to the dust that was inches from his feet as he turned to trudge toward the rig in hopes of finding a canteen its owner no longer needed.
 

Athol

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"Aquila. My name is Aquila."

?Tha?s a pretty name.? Izzy replied with a bright smile, the effect of which was somewhat lost, considering her face was streaked with blood a grease. Turning her attention forward, she slid under what was left of the wag?s dashboard. ?So, you gots a map?anything on it ?bout goin? somewhere other th?n were these slags came from?? She asked, her voice muffled a bit by her location. Re-emerging, she had a cluster of wiring in her hand that she poked at for a moment or two before tossing it into the back beside Cor.

? ?Nother question?? She said after a bit of though. ? You has an prob wit leav?n those three?? She asked waving in the rough direction of Eddie, Rasp and Dakka.
 

DarkRawen

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"Aquila. My name is Aquila."

Aquila. That's an interesting name.

He didn't see a reason to speak up now, seeing as he had already been introduced by Izzy.

"'Nother question... You has an prob wit leav'n those three?"

Those three? There's four people, who is she planning to let come on board?

Cor turned off the lighter, returning to reality. "I have an issue with that," he said, interrupting the conversation. He had been hoping he wouldn't have to, but he wasn't sure he wanted to hear Aquila's reply. "They helped us get free, it'd not be fair if we simply left them here." He crossed his arms, standing up. His voice was a little stricter than he normally would allow himself to get, but it was important to make it clear it was non-debatable.

Even though that kinda thinking was why we got here in the first place...

Different situation. Probably.

I can't just let her leave them. At least not my patient.

That was priority, keeping the hurt man from dying. He would have to check on him soon either way, so he stepped towards the door.

"I didn't patch that guy up just t' have him die in the middle of nowhere, Izzy. I know you're... well, hesitant t' trust people, but we should at least give them a chance t' get here. I'll even tell them t' get ready or get left behind. I just... we really shouldn't leave them for dead without them even knowing about it."

He bit his lip, then added, thoughtfully;

"But, if we do leave them behind, let me get the big guy first, okay? My patient. I just can't bring myself t' abandon him."
 

booksv2

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Stepping out of the cab of the movva and settling his cuttas in place Daka Looks down at the small group talking. He had been ignoring them for the whole time he had been in the movva but now he heard them talking about leaving people behind. Frowning and turning Daka pulls himself up on top of the movva and squats there looking around slowly. Not even a shadow from where they were to where the sands dropped off.

Looking down at the group where the healer and his weird girl person were half arguing Daka doesn't even try getting in that group. Taking one last look out over the sands he shudders thinking about trying to walk over them under the Great furnace. Moving back from on top of the movva Daka drops down between where the movva and holdda were together. Leaning back against the chains sitting there holding them together he waits, knowing whatever they decide they will be taking the movva.
 

Athol

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Izzy rolled her eyes at Cor; she?d been pretty sure he was going to say what he had, but it never hurt to ask?one day common sense might win. ?Izzy no leave wit ou? Cor.? She said aloud. It was a bit awkward from her seated position, but she managed to extract a wrench from her tool kit, and having done so, she pressed it to her lips. ?Izzy promise to wait?if de uthers get to wag before Cor done, then Izzy take them too.?

Putting the wrench away, she looked back to Aquilla and shrugged. ?See?? She said with a bit of a smile. ?He okay for a man?but little too squishy to be outta a nice big ville.?
 

Texas Joker 52

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Rasp was characteristically silent as the man across from her on the other side of the wounded looked up at her and caught what she meant with her hand gestures.

"Sure, just keep an eye on him. I need t'---"

He quickly turned his head at the shout of a name, presumably his name, from the young girl. So she was right about the two being companions.

"Well then, nevermind, she seems t' be good. I'd like you t' ensure that he gets something -water, ideally- t' drink, and that there's no other problems. Let me know if you need anything, uhm, just, wave, or talk, if you can. I'm Medicus Cor, by the way."

Medicus Cor. And the girl had to be Izzy, given the fact that he had been the one to call out about their supplies being in the cab of the truck, or "wag" as they called it. As he moved away to talk with her, she started to rifle through he pack for their water. It was hardly the best idea to simply give it away in case Eddie or herself needed the extra ration later on, but she supposed if nothing else, the group looked like they were going to be sticking together.

But before she could pull out the bottle, the large, wounded man forced himself to his feet. Before promptly walking in the direction of the truck, presumably to get water of his own. Rasp frowned and stood, watching the man as he walked with keen eyes.

The man was clearly struggling due to his wound, and she had to shake her head as she finally pulled out the bottle of water and strode to him, putting a firm hand on the man's good shoulder. Then she practically shoved the water into his good hand with a grunt.

"Drink. Sit." she told him with a hoarse whisper.

Staring him down for a few moments to make sure that the subtext of Don't be a stubborn fool and bleed out had clearly gotten through to him, she hitched her bags a little more securely over her shoulder and started to make her way to Izzy, largely ignoring the others for the time being. Though she did spare a glance for the other woman as she moved away from Eddie, presumably after some introductions.

Pausing to glance back at her, Rasp frowned a little before joining Eddie's side.

"Don't look good. Plan?" she asked quietly.

While he had only just woken up a little while ago, there was a chance he had a better idea for their next step. As it was, her mind was still a little sluggish when it came to making proper plans, both due to the lull immediately after a kill, and the fading worry over Eddie.
 

DarkRawen

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"Izzy no leave wit ou' Cor. Izzy promise to wait...if de uthers get to wag before Cor done, then Izzy take them too."

He smiled a relieved smile. This could be the way to deal with this. He simply could try to... no. No, he wasn't going to risk their lives either, standing behind, trying to wait for slow strangers, would not be the right way to answer Izzy's trust.

"Thank you, Izzy. I'll be back as soon as I can." Carefully, he went outside. One of them were holding some chains, and he went over to him first.

"Hi, we're moving soon, so I'd recommend you t' move t' whatever position you find the safest and stay there," he said with a nonchalant tone. It was simpler that way, after all. Then he went to the two strangers who came as a pair, the big guy who had given Izzy a scare, and the bald one. He was a bit annoyed by the fact that the hurt man had been abandoned so quickly, and simply pointed towards the wag.

Either they get it...

Nah, they would get it. In case they didn't, he spoke a little louder when talking to his patient. His tone wasn't warm and familiar, but there was a great sense of trustworthiness and care in it. "How are you doing? Do you have a fever? I'm sorry t' have left you for that moment, I had t' check on the girl. It's fine now, though, drink that and I'll do my final check up on you inside the wag. It won't leave without me, and I won't leave without you. We're headed for some safety, wherever that is t' be found. "

Even if the others end up ignoring me, I will take care of my patient.
 

booksv2

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Daka looks up when someone walks up and blinks at them when he starts to talk to him.

"Hi, we're moving soon, so I'd recommend you t' move t' whatever position you find the safest and stay there,"

Daka nods at him and settles back farther into the chairs, unhooking one of them and holding onto it like a grip to keep himself steadier. The talking that had been going on all around had for the most part been to quiet to hear or even to realize it was anything else than sand shifting. Waiting for the engine to start Daka pulls one of his cuttas out and scraps the edge against the lock under him to sharpen it just that little extra before sliding it back into his harness. Taking the machete that he had taken from the person he had killed he started sharpening the edge, doing it at an extreme angle to make it as sharp as possible. Each swipe against the hardened metal under him made tiny sparks and shavings come off it where the metal had been badly sharpened in past times. Daka keeps sharpening waiting for the engines to start, keeping his eyes on the blade and using his hands to feel more than his eyes to see.
 

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Though Eddie hated to admit it, the way he was shot down by Ms. Anonymous bruished his pride a little. He had lead over a hundred skirmishes, lead the vanguard in the battle of Bat County, bested Thrice-Scarred, scourge of the western wastes and greatest fighter of his time, in single combat. And yet, he was treated as nothing more than a common brawn-for-brains. Of course, he betted that the woman would never even have heard of his accomplishments, or at least not recognised him for who he were at that time, but it still felt rather sore.

Small steps, Top Dog's words echoed, Small steps and time. That had been the Warpup way. Though they had established a reputation of brutality and dread throughtout the wastes -a reputation well deserved, mind- the Warpups were also great emancipators, intergrating what remained of other tribes into their own, providing they pulled their weight.

Small steps and time it was, then. Problem was, though, time was a luxury right now. Decisive action was needed, one that would have to be agreed by everyone. A Heruclian task, if he'd ever seen one.

With no time to waste, he got up. He could feel pain flare up on his sides, legs, his cheeks and eye. He would need a good few days of rest to recover from that beating, and when was the last time he had a good day? Before he knew it, Rasp was standing next to him, watching him carefully, I can't fault the girl for being dilligent.

"Don't look good. Plan?"

"You always had a penchant for asking the right questions, my boy" he said as he turned to her, grinning. He had to put on a brave face; Rasp looked up to him, and when you're leading a pack -even if it's just a pack of one- you needed to show confidence. "The plan, as I see it, is to gather everyone up and come to a decision about what we're gonna do,' he sighed, started whispering, "You could argue that it'd be easier for us to get the wagon and abandon them... but it's not the right thing to do." Eddie the Dead, a man that had been known as Hellhound, who had painted the sands red and had been made a into a boogieman tale that Imperium mothers told their children to behave; the most feared and hated man in the wastes, talking morality. You'd need to look hard for a better punchline.

"Now, with a crew like this, we're gonna have a lot of work in our hands, and as you can see my hands are tied." He highlighted the chains, and whispered again, to make sure his thoughts remained private to the two of them, "Skinhead looks the type that can fight and nothing else, and that's all I will expect from him. The chick looks like a loner, and loners tend to look after their own hides first, so unless proven wrong I'm not trusting her on anything. The wounded's out of commision with the wounds he's taken, whether he makes it or not. Kiddo's got more baggage than you when we started, and that left me a dozen scars uglier." He chuckled, and plain flared up in his chest, notifying him that his joke was bad and that he should feel bad about it. "As for the boy accompaning her, he looks smart, and the smart ones have a tendency to think they know better than the rest."

He heard footsteps and stopped talking. Speak of the devil, the boy walked at them, a not too pleasant expression on his face, and pointed at the wagon before leaving, without a word uttered.

"...Case in point." he finally said after he was out of hearing range, and sighed again. "Guess we'll follow his lead on this one. It's what I'd have suggested anyway." he patted Rasp on the shoulder, "Alright, help me find something to get the chains off. I'm growing sick of them, and someone's gotta need to carry our wounded. I can't trust Skinhead to hold his own weapons right, and Smarty looks lacking on the physical department, so that falls to me." he started moving, looking around for something to unlock -or break- the chains. "While we're at it, what do you think of our merry crew? You're had more experience with them, I'd argue."
 

Tortilla the Hun

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"See?" Izzy said with a bit of a smile. "He okay for a man...but little too squishy to be outta a nice big ville."

"That so?" Aquila asked half-minded. At least that means he won't leave me to die, she added internally. She'd only spoken those two words to the girl since she gave her name, and it wasn't for a lack of things to respond to. If there was one thing Izzy seemed to have retained of youth it was her curiosity. She almost smiled when the girl said her name was pretty, she wasn't often told such things, but it wasn't the time for niceties when they were still in the middle of nowhere.

The wounded man's sulking was interrupted when Rasp walked up to him and foisted a bottle of water onto him. "Drink. Sit," she told him. He was about to say something about not needing anyone's pity when it was silently communicated to him that he was being foolish. He was rubbish at reading books?he stumbled on even the simplest of words, something his peers poked fun at him for?but he could read people well enough. He reassured himself of this when he accepted the water with a simple nod just before Rasp walked off. Not like every person can read words anyway, the big man thought to himself, remembering the jabs at his inability. His dwellings were interrupted once again when the doctor approached him.

"How are you doing? Do you have a fever? I'm sorry t' have left you for that moment, I had t' check on the girl. It's fine now, though, drink that and I'll do my final check up on you inside the wag. It won't leave without me, and I won't leave without you. We're headed for some safety, wherever that is t' be found."

"S'pose I been better," the man said after a swig of water. He sighed contentedly from the refreshing drink. "No fever, me head's fine. Can't keep me arm up. I can feel me fingers. Don't know if it'll last. I hope so."

If one was watching closely they'd practically see a light bulb switch on as Aquila had a sudden revelation. She stood and quickly looked around the edges where earth met sky, confirming her hunch using what few landmarks were at her disposal. "I think I know where we are," she proudly proclaimed, looking down at Izzy. Her wisp of a smile quickly faded as she reminded herself she was just a stranger in a group of strangers. She looked curiously at the one sharpening his blades in the rear of the wagon and figured if he didn't hear just then, he'd probably hear soon enough. She cleared her throat and turned to the others. "We've got a heading," she called out. "We don't want to be here for long so collect what you have and let's get moving."



Their mobile prison was little more than a speck on the horizon as they rocketed across the dust, loose grains kicked up behind them in billowing clouds. If there was one good thing about that shipping container it was that it had some decent shade. There wasn't so much as a tarp to cover the back. Its former owners apparently didn't plan for an extended trip. They were just fortunate enough there was room for all of them, gear included.

Rasp was at the helm of the wagon with Aquila in the passenger seat acting as co-pilot. The others remained in the rear occupying their own territories on the bench seats. It was another good fortune, for the wounded man at least, that the ground they crossed was flat enough to allow the doctor to redress the wound and fashion a sling to prevent any re-openings. The man, as curious and impressed as he was with the doctor's work, heeded the warning not to mess with the wound. He hadn't many opportunities to see that kind of work. And he kinda hoped he could see more. Just not firsthand.

"Town should be straight ahead, won't be long now," Aquila disclosed to the helmsman. She looked over at Rasp who was focused on the task at hand and, now that there was opportunity, noted the rough scar on his neck. She glanced between the expanse ahead and the scar several times and considered asking about it but ultimately thought it better not to. She actually appreciated the quiet. Even if it was a result of scarring trauma. Though she had to admit it was a little awkward, especially with the silence in the back. After all, if there ever was a time to 'get to know each other,' as Eddie had put it, it was then.
 

Athol

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She?d been happy when Aquilla had said she knew where to go, that didn?t involve the skags they?d clipped. She?d jumped out of the driver?s seat to do one last check on the slag heap that was pretending to be a moto, and when she turned around, the mute?d stolen he spot. She?d been ready to raise hell?she?d been the one that?d seen to it that this shit-pile of a wag would get them anywhere! That meant it was hers, and no knuckle dragging waster was going to diver herwag?no matter how crap it was; but Cor?d glared at her and shook his head?a few time?before she conceded.

Now she sat/crouched in the gunner?s spot and fumed, venting her anger on the properly fucked defgun and the rock humper that?d let it get so bad. ?Cum snorting ass pigs!? She swore into the scarf across her mouth as the wag bounced along. The action was packed with grit and it looked like it hadn?t had any grease on the moving bits?ever.

"Town should be straight ahead, won't be long now,"

The other woman?s voice caught Izzy?s attention, giving her something other than the slagged defgun to think about. ?Wat?s the name ov da ville?? She asked over the noise bagged moto and howling transy[footnote]transmission[/footnote]. There were a few merchies about who owed Izzy for various reasons, and hopefully this ville had one of ?em, ?cuz the only barter she had was the wag and wouldn?t be good for a whole lot.
 

DarkRawen

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Cor wasn't sure about this. It wasn't that he distrusted the quiet man in the driver's seat, he often had a hard time reminding himself of that people were capable of deciding to betray one all of a sudden, just because it suited them. No, it was his dislike of larger wags. It felt unsafe, as if the box would just break down and trap them all inside. Or just full out explode, though at least then their bodies would be somewhat purified as they died.

Besides, he was a little sullen over the fact that they hadn't had the time to clean up the mess in the desert. Surely, at least, he could have burned the man that was a fellow prisoner, but it would take longer than the others would be willing to wait. Instead, he sat on one of the benches, his patient next to him. Out of the people in the back-seat, Cor felt that he had most reason to interact with him.

I should probably...

Probably what? They would be together for as long as it took to get to the closest settlement, then they would split up. No need to ignore his duties, though. Cor leaned against the wall, then spoke, nonchalantly.

"For anyone curious, my name is Medicus Cor, and I'm a healer. If you have any marks or scratches, or other kinds of ailments that you'd like t' get checked out, I'm willing t' help those who'd need it. However..." he trailed off for a brief moment, unsure of how to continue. Then, he sighed.

"I kinda doubt we'll be together for long, so I'd take the chance now. Anything is fine. Better t' be sure than dead, after all."
 

Texas Joker 52

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- Earlier That Day -

As Rasp looked up at her companion, mentor, and occasional-savior, she noticed that he was looking a little better than before, despite the earlier scuffle. Not much better, of course, but enough to be encouraging.

"You always had a penchant for asking the right questions, my boy."

His grin was not entirely reassuring, but it was enough to make her push the rest of her current concerns regarding him to the back of her mind. For now, he was well enough. That would have to do, especially since, if luck would have it, they wouldn't be running into trouble so soon after their break for freedom. And really, she didn't want to be taken to the next world by the vultures just yet.

"The plan, as I see it, is to gather everyone up and come to a decision about what we're gonna do. You could argue that it'd be easier for us to get the wagon and abandon them... but it's not the right thing to do."

His whispered aside made sense, and she had to nod. As much as she would've preferred to strike out on their own, and leave these people to their own problems, that could have farther-reaching consequences than they could see then. Like these people managing to get to some wasteland town and mentioning the two that abandoned them.

"Now, with a crew like this, we're gonna have a lot of work in our hands, and as you can see my hands are tied. Skinhead looks the type that can fight and nothing else, and that's all I will expect from him. The chick looks like a loner, and loners tend to look after their own hides first, so unless proven wrong I'm not trusting her on anything. The wounded's out of commission with the wounds he's taken, whether he makes it or not. Kiddo's got more baggage than you when we started, and that left me a dozen scars uglier. As for the boy accompanying her, he looks smart, and the smart ones have a tendency to think they know better than the rest."

Rasp followed along with his words closely, and glanced at the doctor as he approached them and pointed at the truck. Then walked away without a word, scowling. The borderline-mute couldn't help but huff a little at that.

"...Case in point. Guess we'll follow his lead on this one. It's what I'd have suggested anyway. Alright, help me find something to get the chains off. I'm growing sick of them, and someone's gotta need to carry our wounded. I can't trust Skinhead to hold his own weapons right, and Smarty looks lacking on the physical department, so that falls to me."

With another nod, Rasp started to look around for some kind of tool to take care of Eddie's chains. But at his probing question regarding her opinion on the others, she turned back to him and frowned a little before looking at the others.

"Stubborn. Trouble." she said, pointing at the wounded man, before moving on to the others.

"Doctor. Girl trusts." she motioned to Cor, "Dangerous. Worse than old me." then to Izzy, "Crazy. Out for number one." and then the skinhead.

But when it came to Aquila, she had to pause. She didn't really interact with her enough to even get a slight read. So, she shrugged. She was about to go back to looking for some kind of tool to cut Eddie's chains when she heard a voice carry over the wind.

[HEADING=2][color=5B9C64]"--UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!"[/color][/HEADING]

She blinked and whirled to look at Eddie. She would've sworn that that was his voice, cursing at the top of his lungs in a fit of rage. But it didn't look like he had said anything. With a shaken look on her face, she opened her mouth to say something, before ultimately closing it and shaking her head.

Maybe she had just imagined it.

[hr]

- Present -

Rasp was comfortable behind the wheel of a car, or in this case a truck. It was something she was used to, something she could focus on. And since the plains were reasonably flat and clear, there weren't any immediate dangers for her to worry about. They were likely to see any threats coming for miles.

In the passenger's seat was the woman that had spoken to Eddie, while the girl was in the gunners seat just behind them. While Rasp wasn't too fond of keeping her back to someone she didn't trust, it wasn't as unsettling as Aquila's gaze switching between the "road" ahead, and the scar on her neck. After the third glance, Rasp couldn't help but sigh.

"Ask Eddie." she rasped, her eyes flashing over to her for a quick glance before she focused back on driving.

"Town should be straight ahead, won't be long now."

While Izzy asked after the towns name, Rasp merely responded with a grunt. And hoped that it wasn't nearly as awkward in the back for Eddie as it was in the cab for her.
 

Neuromancer

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The fact that his hands were finally free again was little consolation for the suffocating silence.

Not a single line was uttered for the entirety of their trip until now. The silence was uncomfortable, but what made it almost unbearably so was that no way to break it seemed evident. He took a look at his companions, such as they were. Crazy, out for number one Rasp's words echoed, and from the look of him he wasn't the talkative type. He had already tried out Ms. Anonymous, so that left the young man. Doctor, girl trusts. That one was more promising, and the two of them had some common ground in a certain regard, but from his demeanor he didn't look like he was out to make friends.

What a truly ragtag group this were; each person was more difficult than the last. At this point, he was hesitant to even jam on his guitar. For all he knew, one of them would take offense or get triggered and tried to cut his throat. So, miserable silence it were. He hoped Rasp was having an easier time up front; for all her resourcefulness and prowess, the one thing Eddie had failed to nurture her was social skills.

"For anyone curious, my name is Medicus Cor, and I'm a healer." spoke the young one that now had a name, and Eddie felt the need to applaud his bravery at tackling this iceberg.

"If you have any marks or scratches, or other kinds of ailments that you'd like t' get checked out, I'm willing t' help those who'd need it. However..." This talk of injuries reminded him of the bruises that still felt rather sore, and his eye, which still were swollen and itching.

"I kinda doubt we'll be together for long, so I'd take the chance now. Anything is fine. Better t' be sure than dead, after all." Eddie wasn't so sure about that one. As much as he wished the ordeal over and everyone moved on to sandier pastures, experience taught him things rarely were quite so simple, and Eddie couldn't help but feel that this was just the beginning of their stroke of bad luck. Still, since Cor volunteered, this was an opportunity to get his eye checked.

"They call me Eddie," he spoke up with a wave "and the boy driving's called Rasp. We're drifters, scavengers and occasionally mercenaries." but Cor didn't seem the type interested in such trivia, so he got to the point.

"I'd like it checked, if ye don't mind" and pointed at his eye, "I got roughed up rather bad when we were captured, and it'd be nice to make sure I'm not gonna have to lose it."
 

DarkRawen

Awe-Inspiringly Awesome
Apr 20, 2010
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"They call me Eddie, and the boy driving's called Rasp. We're drifters, scavengers and occasionally mercenaries."

"I see." He pointed towards Izzy. "The little one's with me, as you've probably gathered. Her name is Izzy. The rest I don't know," he added, briefly looking at the one in the back who he had still not exchanged words with.

Can we trust him? I wonder...

The more people spoke, the more Cor tended to feel like he could trust someone. While it wasn't always true, most of the people he had gotten along with had been talkative, and had not ended up trying to murder him.

I suppose this, Rasp, was it? I suppose he's excused.

"I'd like it checked, if ye don't mind. I got roughed up rather bad when we were captured, and it'd be nice to make sure I'm not gonna have to lose it."

"Ah, your eye, let me take a look," Cor said, and got a little closer, shifting in his seat so that he could get close enough to examine the eye. It had certainly taken a hit, being near black in color, but none of the veins seemed to be damaged, and nothing was bleeding. He couldn't see any signs of internal bleeding inside it either. The pupil reacted to the light around them, and though it definitely had to hurt, he couldn't see any serious damage to the eye.

"It looks a little sore, bit dry, I think," he started, and moved his finger back and forth, so that when the eye moved, he could see more of the white, ensure that it was alright. "But the visible veins seem t' be doing well. And the iris and pupil looks good, reactive and no inflammation. No blood. Does it hurt or sting when you try t' focus on something? How about blinking or moving your eye? Does the area around it feel numb?"

That should be enough to be safe.

He figured he might as well make sure. A man's eye was very valuable. Especially in an environment where the horizons were filled with sand, and depth perception was the only way to navigate the desert wastes in a vehicle.
 

Tortilla the Hun

Decidedly on the Fence
May 7, 2011
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"Wat's the name ov da ville?"

"Divot," Aquila replied with noticeable uncertainty. "I think. The handwriting doesn't help." It was a literal eyesore to read. The slanted scrawls were ragged and hitched, the work of an unsteady and inexperienced hand. She was straining her eyes just to make out the letters. She caught herself glancing at the pilot's scar again and with little surprise, he'd noticed.

"Ask Eddie."

I guess that's settled, Aquila said inwardly as she snapped her view back to the road ahead. She was no stranger to the quiet sort. She wasn't much of a talker herself after all. Though she didn't know why she expected any other response. Hope, she supposed. That things would be different. "So, uh, any luck with that gun?" Aquila asked, putting her back to the passenger window to look up at Izzy.

Meh-dih-cuss, the injured man repeated in his head. They talked and talked but that was the one thing that really stuck. It sounded familiar. Not the man with the name. Not anybody he knew. Just the sound. Something he remembered as "Latten". Building blocks was what that elder called it. Like the ones he would make from clay with his hands. But "Latten" was building blocks for words.

"Useless," he muttered to himself. There was already enough words. What purpose was there in making more? Thinking more on the healer's name only served to remind him of his failures in grasping the lessons back home. The failures that landed him in a mud pit, stamping rocks and mortar. The pit he ran from years ago. At least back home there was something familiar. Back home, he'd still have two functioning arms.
 

Athol

New member
Sep 15, 2010
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"Divot, I think. The handwriting doesn't help."

Izzy screwed up her face in concentration, behind the scarf wrapped around her face. Reva? No, she out in Two Forks?think Izzy might owe her now. Cammis?Cammis is at the Divide, and Bix got clipped by the Coalies[footnote]Blacklanders[/footnote]. ?Shit? She muttered, she?d been really counting on knowing someone for a favour to cash in on.

"So, uh, any luck with that gun?"

She was distracted from further grumbling by Aquila?s question. ?Naw,?She replied over the noise. ?Dis ting fucked more den Izzy can fix while movin?. Don? think dem shit-dicks every cleaned th? poor thing.? She added sourly. Whacking the gun a few more times out frustration, Izzy shifted in her ?gunners? position, so she could see into the back a bit to see how Cor was doing.
 

Tortilla the Hun

Decidedly on the Fence
May 7, 2011
2,244
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Light bled through the cracks in the ceiling of corrugated iron and wood, the beams almost made solid by the dust that passed through. It was arid, what little must that remained from that morning had long since evaporated. The only moisture in the shack were the beads of sweat welling on a haggard old man's brow. Half-asleep, feet kicked up, and unaware of the wagon full of misfit wastelanders speeding towards his town. At least until his nap was interrupted by his front door slamming open.

"Haggerd!" Shouted the young man that just burst into the shack. "We got Slitters comin' in from the east!"

The mention of Slitters turned the old man's slow waking to a swift lurch from his seat. He grabbed the double-barrel shotgun from beside his desk and made for the door. He waved the young man off and both walked into the dusty street. He walked with a limp, but the old man had a surprisingly quick gait. They stopped at the edge of the town where the tamped dirt met the less-traveled expanse where a ramshackle lookout tower stood. Again, displaying a fair bit of spryness the old man lead them up the ladder into the tower. They looked toward the horizon at the approaching dust trail.

"Glass," the old man said simply, hand outstretched. The young man obliged, withdrawing a monocular from a pouch and handing it over. Through the glass the old man spied what looked to be a lone buggy with the markings of the local raider affliction. For the young man, this was worrisome. For the old man, it was only confusing. It wasn't a raiding party, else there'd be more than one of them. It was too early in the day for a scouting party. They'd know they'd be seen. If it was for some sort of supply run, it would be the first.

"Haggerd, what do we do?" asked the young man shakily. There was no answer. Only a scritching sound as the old man rubbed his chin in thought. Putting the glass to his eye again, he tried to make out the occupants. His eye strained to focus and when it did it elicited an inquisitive, "Huh."

"Haggerd, what is it?" the young man questioned, even more frantic.

"Hush now, I'm lookin'," the old man said curtly. What caught his eye was the young one in the gunner position. Slitters certainly weren't beacons of good nature but they were never in the habit of crewing children on their wheels. "Good news, Hersch. Chances are, they aren't here to kill us."



"There it is, see the tower?" Aquila asked Rasp. A verbal answer being unlikely, she called to those in the back. "Right, we're comin' up on the town! Look alive, but let's not seem we're spoilin' for a fight, yeah?" She folded up the map and stowed it in her jacket.

The town ahead was made up of four blocks of shacks, mostly small homes. A few were essentially small warehouses, one being a garage, another a small trading post. It wasn't apparent what the third was, however. There was an intersection of two roads that made up the town's center. The buildings were very compact and the roads reflected that. There was barely enough room for two wagons of the same size to drive side by side.

The wagon came to a halt on the outskirts where they were greeted by and old man and a young man, both armed but not aggressive. There was a quiet that washed over them. Save for the idling engine. "Welcome to Divot," the old man announced. "I'm Noel Haggerd. Sheriff of these parts. This here's my Deputy, Henry Hersch. Now, we're a peaceful town. And we ain't afraid to keep it that way. If you catch my meanin'. We ain't averse to tradin'; post is in the center-a town. I ask that you take care of your business quickly and be on your way. Hersch here will accomp'ny you while your here. Have any questions, just ask the Deputy."

The old man let his shotgun rest in the crook of his arm and he walked off back into town. The Deputy kept his eyes on those in the wagon, taking a deep breath as he prepared to address them. "Okay. You heard him. Try to keep things quiet. Do what you need to to get back on the road, then do just that. Sound good?"