Road Warriors

[Hewitt]

The vision dims and all that remains are memories. They take me back - back to the place where the black pump sucked guzzolene from the earth...

*Out of a dust storm emerges the ancient wreck of a prime mover and fuel tanker. It is partly charred, its wheels and sides studded with metal crossbow bolts.*

And I remember the terrible battle we fought - the day we left that place forever...

*A warrior, dressed in leather and steel, stands on a hill crest. This is MAX. Behind him is a strange road vehicle: two engines and a seat mounted on a chassis.*

But, most of all, I remember the courage of a stranger, a road warrior called Max. To understand who he was you must go back to the last days of the old world ...

A MOB OF ARAB STUDENTS...

....storm a heavily-fortified embassy and raise the Iranian flag.

U.S. SOLDIERS LAND ...

... on a beach in the Persian Gulf and fight their way across the sand.

... when, for reasons long forgotten, two mighty warrior nations went to war ...

AN OIL WELL ERUPTS...

... and then another ... and another. Plumes of flame burst across the skyline.

...and touched off a blaze which engulfed them all.

A LINE OF CARS...

... stretches for blocks until It finally reaches a gas station. An attendant pulls down a sign which reads:

$7 / Gallon

and replaces it with another sign:

AUTHORIZED VEHICLES ONLY

A group of angry motorists gather around, yelling and pushing. The attendant produces a gun motioning them back ...

...For without fuel they were nothing. They had built a house of straw ...

BUSINESSMEN AT A STOCK EXCHANGE ...

... are yelling and shoving.

"Sell! Sell! Sell!"

Torn up scrip litters the floor ...

THE FOYER OF A HUGE CORPORATION.

The company's crest is chiselled on the wall. It is accompanied by the words:

SEVEN SISTERS PETROLEUM
"Fueling The World"

on the floor below, beyond the marble pillars, we see the building is abandoned - littered with broken furniture and piles of documents.

A CORRIDOR.

We pass through a door designated:

CHIEF EXECUTIVE

At the other end of the imposing room we see abusinessman clearing out his vast desk. His name is PAPPAGALLO. On the wall behind him we see photo-graphs and Paintings of oil wells and refineries.
PAPPAGALLO takes a wad of maps and puts them in his briefcase, followed by a copy of "Whole Earth, catalogue" and another book. The cover reads:

TEACH YOURSELF SOLAR ENERGY

A LIVING ROOM.

An ANXIOUS FAMILY is gathered in front of a television set - A politican addresses the nation.

"stage three of the national emergency is effective immediately, citizens are warned ..."

The speech is cut Short as static fills the screen. The family looks up at the lights as they flicker...

IN A FACTORY ...

a giant machine grinds to a halt.

IN A CITY STREET...

...anxious faces look up as the street lights flick off.

AN INDUSTRIAL CITY SCAPE.

It is dark, decaying, Silent ...

people stopped In the streets and listened: for the first time they heard the sound of silence.

IN A DESERTED STREET.

A terrible scream ... a YOUNG MAN runs down the street ... a shot is fired. The YOUNG MAN falls dead ... crushing the meat and eggs he has been clutching to his chest ...

Their world crumbled ...

IN A DESERTED CITY STREET.

Bank notes, blown by the wind, flutter towards a store dummy, lying smashed on the road ... A rat emerges from the back of the mannequin's skull and scurries away as we hear the roar of a big engine. The wide wheels of a big car crush the dummy. As the vehicle roars down the street It is followed by two big bikes...

And only those mobile enough to scavenge, brutal enough to pillage would survive.

A GROUP OF OUTLAW BIKERS...

... leap from a hillside onto the roof of a moving fuel tanker. They pass a hose into the tank..

At last, the vermin had inherited the earth.

A PACK OF BIKERS ...

... swarm around a car and start to hack it to pieces.

A SERIES OF RAPIDLY DISSOLVING IMAGES.

Speeding cars, speeding bikes, crashing vans, crashing police cars, crashing bikes, brawls, smashed windows, explosions.

And in this maelstrom of decay, ordinary men were battered and crushed...

MAX IN POLICE UNIFORM.

... turns and smiles.

...men like the Warrior Max...

MAX PLAYS.

... with a woman - JESSIE and their child.... through a wheat field. He catches her. They tumble on the ground laughing.

MAX EMBRACES JESSIE.

who in the roar of an engine, lost everything ...

ON A HIGHWAY...

JESSIE carrying the child, scrambles from her van and runs down the road. A GANG OF OUTLAW BIKERS run them down... the child's ball bounces down the road.

MAX runs towards their bodies...

SILHOUETTED ON A HILLSIDE GRAVEYARD.

MAX stands looking down at two headstones...

IN FRONT OF A ROARING FIRE.

MAX fuels the blaze with the remnants of his pastlife: children's toys; photo albums; his police badge.

MAX WITH HIS SHOTGUN.

...turns, wild-eyed ...

And became a shell of a man. A burnt out, desolate man, a dead man., running from the demons of his past. A man who wandered far away ...

MAX DRIVING.

The supercharger On the front of the vehicle dominates the foreground.

And it was out here in this blighted place, that he learned to live again ...

ooc: Starting point to follow, stay tuned

[Fluffie]

i love you

[flapjack]

*flapjack waits*

[KraKto$is8]

Nice

[flapjack]

err, hewitt, could you start the thread, please ??

[Hewitt]

ooc: The following have submitted all required info and are ready to go...

Name: Cid
Profile: Drifter
Reputation: 0
Followers: 0

Name: Flapjack
Profile: Drifter
Reputation: 0
Followers: 0

Name: Fluffie a.k.a 'the Evil One'
Profile: Drifter
Reputation: 0
Followers: 0

Name: The Mystic
Profile: Drifter
Reputation: 0
Followers: 0

ooc: As for the rest of ya... *Points in direction of signup thread.*

[Hewitt]

You have all arrived in the town known to it's inhabitants as EIGHT MILE CREEK. - One of the last bastions of semi-civilised society located in the middle of the eastern wasteland. It is currently under the control of the ENFORCERS.

The town has one main street connected to the vast overland highway that stretches as far as the eye can see in both north and south directions. The street is lined with a number of buildings - all of different shapes, sizes and state of disrepair - and a rugged collection of people wandering around and making use of the various things the town has to offer.

Everything here is also covered in a film of fine red dust.

Among the crowd are a number of men patrolling the streets in blue police uniforms - all seen carrying either a semi-automatic police rifle or a pump action shotgun.

Of the buildings those worthy of note are the following:

TOWN HALL - this is where the current local government - COMISSIONER HAL JORDAN - works to keep control and maintain law and order. It is also the home and court of the MAGISTRATE.

POLICE STATION - this is where all the ENFORCERS keep their gear and lock away any 'wrong doers'.

GAS STATION - this is where the town keeps it's supply of oil. It is heavily guarded. It also acts as a FOOD DISTRIBUTION CENTRE.

EIGHT MILE PUB - this is where the good stuff is brewed . Local rumors suggest it is where a number of 'illicit' activities are organised. It is currently the 'watering hole' of the SNAKE HUNTERS GANG.

CAR YARD - all vehicles not of use are for sale here.

TOWN BAZAAR - a collection of stalls setup around the town centre selling a whole bunch of scrap and trinkets.

POST OFFICE - Now acts as a sort of bank. This is where all confiscated currency is stored and converted into CREEK CASH.

THE WATER TOWER - This is the source of the towns water supply. It consists of a deep underground bore, a pump and a large tank to act as temporary storage.

THE GRANARY - All the grain from the surrounding fields gets stored in this gigantic structure of six grain silos. It is said that if someone you know suddenly goes missing chances are they are 'swimming in the grain'.

The town is surrounded by miles of farmland and wheatfields still in a healthy state. Closer to town are a number of residental areas and shanty towns where those passing by live amongst the locals who are not one of the FARMERS.

The local currency, 'CREEK CASH' consists of standard AUS dollars stamped with the local post office ink stamp. Upon entering the town you had to pass through a checkpoint where all standard money was confisicated - standard national currency is worthless.

For those of you who had money left over - you were able to obtain that amount of CREEK CASH by trading in the town bazaar.

ooc: Tasks to follow.

[Hewitt]

Out the front of the POST OFFICE is a bulletin board where the town officials stick up various news and current affairs. It is a place where others of some influence stick up their various pieces of proganda.

Amongst a number of BAZAAR ads and other written pieces of scrawl are the following messages:

----------------------------------------------------------------
HELP WANTED

Local law officials seeking able men and women for various local jobs.

GET PAID PER JOB

For details ask around at the 8MC POLICE STATION.
----------------------------------------------------------------

----------------------------------------------------------------
COME ONE! COME ALL!!! TO THE 8MC FIRST ANNUAL DESTRUCTOFEST!!!

See amazing stunts and entralling action as the towns best drivers pit themselves against one another in an all out contest of DEATH and DESTRUCTION!!

Ticket prices start from 25CC per adult; 12CC for children under 15.

HURRY!!! SHOW ON TONIGHT ONLY!!!

For more details, speak to BARRY THE BARMAN at the EIGHT MILE PUB.

P.S - For those still thinking of participating in the 8MC DESTRUCTOFEST please hurry! You have until 7PM TONIGHT to sign up for your chance at 7500CC!!!
----------------------------------------------------------------

[Hewitt]

ooc: OK peeps there it is. Feel free to either follow up on one of those notices or go where you please.

[flapjack]

*flapjack wanders around the town a little first*

ooc/ have to go, will be back this evening /ooc

[AcidK]

*Cid looks at the notes within the post office, looking more carefully at the Destructofest one with a smile. He walks over to the pub and walks in, carefully surveying the surroundings before talking to the Barman.*

Yo, Barry... That is your name right? What do I do to sign p for Destructofest?

[Fluffie]

Fluffie's bike, including the driver on top, pulls up to the main entrance of the 8MC Police Station. The bikers turns his head to look at the station and lets the engine of his bike come to a halt - saving the scarce fuel. Getting up, his leg swings over the bike and he puts his helmet off, nodding at one of the guarding officers (I assume there is one... I don't want to let my lovely all alone ), hoping that the man would guess Fluffie didn't want his bike stolen.

Then, with the mace hanging from his waist and his 9mm tucked away under his jacket, he walks inside and begins enquiring about the jobs available.

[KraKto$is8]

* From the distance, the sound of an engine can be heard. Looking to the west, a cloud of dust moving at a phenomenal speed can be seen. All of a sudden, the engine sound cuts out, and the figure at the centre of the cloud seems to drift. *

* Onlookers watch as The Mystic drifts into down, on his crazily souped-up dirtbike. His travel slows as he loses momentum, and he neatly comes to a stop outside the Police Station. *

* Nodding to the nearby guards, and noting the dangerous-looking Kawasaki sitting nearby, The Mystic dismounts and strides into the Police Station, enquiring about jobs. *

[ooc] How long after the Nuclear Holocaust is this game set? 1 year? 5 years? 20 years? 50 years? [/ooc]

[Hewitt]

Originally posted by AcidK
*Cid looks at the notes within the post office, looking more carefully at the Destructofest one with a smile. He walks over to the pub and walks in, carefully surveying the surroundings before talking to the Barman.*

Yo, Barry... That is your name right? What do I do to sign p for Destructofest?

*You enter the pub full of hells angels wannabies all sporting some pretty nifty looking leather jackets with a picture of a rather nasty looking snake on them and proudly pronounce you're desire to enter the 'Destructofest'. A number of bikers eye you warily but Barry the Barman simply glances over at you from behind the bar with a bemused smile and waves you over.*

BTB - So you saw my little notice eh? Well my friend you've come to the right place if it be the 'fest yer be interested in.

*Barry fiddles around under the bar for a second and then produces a ragged clipboard with a some sheets of paper and a pen.*

BTB - This 'ere be the sign up sheet Mr erm... what was you name again? Anyway, you do be luck if you be wishing to join this little contest... only a few places left. All ya have to do is sign yer name with this 'ere pen on this 'ere piece of paper in either the 'Bike' or 'Car' section to indictate which class of the 'fest you be wishin' to participate.

*Barry slides the paper and writing gear in front of you on the bar you can get a better at the table of names and details.*

BTB - *looks you straight in the eye.* 'Course, if ya sign and just happen to forget to show then I will be having to send over a few friends of mine to remind you... and I do believe neither I nor you will be likin' that.

*Barry grins at you in the most friendly fashion you've ever experienced in recent times.*

[Hewitt]

Originally posted by Fluffie
Fluffie's bike, including the driver on top, pulls up to the main entrance of the 8MC Police Station. The bikers turns his head to look at the station and lets the engine of his bike come to a halt - saving the scarce fuel. Getting up, his leg swings over the bike and he puts his helmet off, nodding at one of the guarding officers (I assume there is one... I don't want to let my lovely all alone ), hoping that the man would guess Fluffie didn't want his bike stolen.

Then, with the mace hanging from his waist and his 9mm tucked away under his jacket, he walks inside and begins enquiring about the jobs available.

*A group of nearby officers eye you suspiciously as you pull up looking like someone who would be more at home in a group of gas/blood-driven marauders. You nod to the guards as you indicate towards you're bike and one of them understands - giving you a grim sort of smile - but looks more like he's worried about YOU pinching one of the police vehicles in the parking lot.

Inside the station all is incredibly busy, with men and women in blue rushing back and forth carrying out a number of varied tasks. You ask around about the available jobs and are soon directed to the desk sargeant who when you approach seems more interested in what's under his fingernails than what you have to say.*

DS - Down the hall, third on the right. Meg there will then search and remove ALL your weapons before allowing you to enter the briefing room where we are keeping all you 'trainees' for interviewing. *starts to pick at his teeth.* You'll get your gear back on your way out once we let you go that is.

[flapjack]

*flapjack notices some kind of bike standing in front of the police station, he'd previously parked his LX lorana near the entrance of the town and had been wondering a little, now that he'd found the police station he was going to see if they happened to have any jobs for him, he thus walks inside and starts asking around*

[Hewitt]

Originally posted by KraKto$is8
* From the distance, the sound of an engine can be heard. Looking to the west, a cloud of dust moving at a phenomenal speed can be seen. All of a sudden, the engine sound cuts out, and the figure at the centre of the cloud seems to drift. *

* Onlookers watch as The Mystic drifts into down, on his crazily souped-up dirtbike. His travel slows as he loses momentum, and he neatly comes to a stop outside the Police Station. *

* Nodding to the nearby guards, and noting the dangerous-looking Kawasaki sitting nearby, The Mystic dismounts and strides into the Police Station, enquiring about jobs. *

[ooc] How long after the Nuclear Holocaust is this game set? 1 year? 5 years? 20 years? 50 years? [/ooc]

ooc - 'bout 2-3 years... doesn't really matter at this stage however as you're at least 500kms from the nearest blast zone

*You arrive in town riding your pocket rocket and pull up alongside a funkeh-looking motorbike out the front of the police station.

You look over at the guards who are presently cursing and giving you angry glances in between minute-long coughing fits brought on by the dust cloud you created.

Once inside you also find you way to the desk sargent who is currently explaining things to another guy decked out in black leather and carrying a rather dangerous looking mace.*

DC - ...n the hall, third on the right. Meg there will then search and remove ALL your weapons before allowing you to enter the briefing room where we are keeping all you 'trainees' for interviewing. *starts to pick at his teeth.* You'll get your gear back on your way out once we let you go that is.

[Hewitt]

Originally posted by flapjack
*flapjack notices some kind of bike standing in front of the police station, he'd previously parked his LX lorana near the entrance of the town and had been wondering a little, now that he'd found the police station he was going to see if they happened to have any jobs for him, he thus walks inside and starts asking around*

*You quickly find yourself directed to the bored-looking desk sargent who seems to have the uncermonious role of giving out directions. Two other strange looking men - one in leather, the other in a robe of all things - are already there.*

DC - ...all, third on the right. Meg there will then search and remove ALL your weapons before allowing you to enter the briefing room where we are keeping all you 'trainees' for interviewing. *starts to pick at his teeth.* You'll get your gear back on your way out once we let you go that is.

[flapjack]

*flapjack is searched, his arrows and bow removed, then sent into the room*

[AcidK]

The name's Cid, just Cid.

*Cid writes his first name into the shet of paper under 'Car' section and hands the clipboard back.*

One thing a need to know b'fore the 'fest, when you want me to show up 'n' if you allow the odd weap'n.

[Fluffie]

Fluffie smiles and nods, before following the directions given to him. Looking at another person handling this part of the 'job' a bit hastily and un-attention-paying, he turns to the other, bit odd looking fella, who showed up just after him, listenin' along to the story as DS told it.

Nodding as the man walked along (just assuming so ) with him, Fluffie got out his 9mm and reached for his mace - ready to hand in both, as ordered.

"Here for the job too?"

He asked, passing the second to the right, still on route..

[Fluffie]

Originally posted by flapjack
*upon which flapjack turn his head towards fluffie and responds*

'yep and i certainly hope i can team up with someone to be my gunner, i've probably got the best heavy weapon 1 could ever dream off, but i need someone to man it, or someone to drive so i can man it'

'you ever seen a bolt thrower ? well, imagine a bolt thrower with twice the size and a lot more power, capable of throwing around normal bolts or modified bolts and throwing them straight through a man'

you were inside the room. i was talking to KraK

[flapjack]

oops

[KraKto$is8]

* The Mystic follows the leather-clad man down the corridoor. *

"Maybe. Are you here for 'the job'?"

* When he gets to Meg, The Mystic hands over his Chain, Lead Pipe, and Bowie Knife. *

"My body is a weapon. Do you wish to keep it for the time I'm being briefed?"

[ooc] - AcidK: is it pronounced "Sid" or "Kid"? [/ooc]

[Fluffie]

"Depending on wether the job is interesting and survivable looking, yeah."

[Hewitt]

Originally posted by AcidK
The name's Cid, just Cid.

*Cid writes his first name into the shet of paper under 'Car' section and hands the clipboard back.*

One thing a need to know b'fore the 'fest, when you want me to show up 'n' if you allow the odd weap'n.

BTB - well-

*Barry is cut off by the sudden silence that fills the bar, announcing the arrival of seven beefy looking biker-type men. Three stand on each side of one man - scanning the sea of faces glaring at them - whom storms up to one table of snakehunters, rage contorting his face. All the men at that table rise calmly to meet this interloper.

The man is the leader of the other known biker gang in town - the SKULLDOGS - their jackets sport a rabid pitpull with no flesh or blood on it's hideously grinning skull.*

BTB - *Looking somewhat nervous* Now guys. Take it outside. There will be no fighting in my ba-

SK Leader - YOU!! *Stabs his forefinger into one of the SH chest.* One of your stinkin' herd just smashed up my ride and now I wanna smash his face!! But if whoever the dried up piece of sh.t is don't own up damn soon I'll just make do with yours punk!

SN Leader - *Moves up real close so his face is inches away.* I suggest you go and cry some place else before someone 'ere decides to spank that chubby ass of yours pretty boy.

SK Leader - *Sneers* You're gonna wish you never said that asswipe.

*Behind him, the six other skulldogs begin producing a number of crude weapons. At the same time all of the snakehunters in the bar rise to their feet, the sound of breaking glass can be heard as a few arm themselves with broken beer bottles.*

SN Leader - You be wanting to tell you're boys to put them nasty things away before they hurt themselves huh?

*Eight more skulldogs enter the bar also brandishing weapons. Both sides now eye each other silently, waiting for the other to make the first move. The tenison is so thick now that not even the fine red dust that coats everything here seems to penetrate it.*

BTB - *Is now sweating visibly and licking his lips.* Uh... people? Could you erm... leave? please? now?

SK Leader - *eyes move in the direction of barry.* Listen little man. This has nothing to d-

*Thats all it took. Using the moment of distraction the leader of the snakehunters takes one of his meaty fists and slams it in the face of the skullhound leader with a mighty uppercut. Before you can blink the two gangs rush each other and then tables, chairs and bikers are flying about in an all out pub brawl. *

BTB - *Swears right before ducking as a bar stool just misses his head.* You had best get out of here quick before the enforcers start blasting this place wide open. *A bottle of beer smashes into the bar nearby.* Here's where the 'fest is being held *he gives you a piece of paper with a small sketch of a map* it's an old farmhouse right out on the edge of the town limits; arrive anytime before 5:30pm and bring your vehicle and whatever weapons you feel like. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a brawl to break up.

*And before you can say anything else he yanks open a trapdoor and jumps into it leaving you to find a way through the brawling mass of bikers.*

[Hewitt]

*All three of you head down the corridor and enter a small storage room where two male police enforcers and MEG are waiting. With the police uniform, Meg looks remarkably similar to Lt. Callahan from the police academy series.*

MEG - Morning boys. If you would just place all your gear into the numbered tray provided and sign your name onto the sheet provided over here...

*As you all hand over your personnel arsenals 'the mystic' makes his 'suggestive' comment and before he knows what is happening Meg is about an inch from his face wearing a smile far too sweet to be real.*

MEG - If I were you honeycakes, I would be more worried about losing that particular weapon all men keep in their pants and yet have a hard time keeping under control.

*You are all then issued into a fair sized room filled with desks and chairs and lined with a few dull whiteboards and police training posters. Already in the room are three other drifters like yourselves and one very stern looking police sargent. His eyes follow you in silent glare as you take a seat with the others.*

Harris - Alright you peeps I guess I can start now... I am Sargent Harris, the guy the local heads of this dust ridden hell-hole has put in charge of baby sitting you peeps. Basically while you are here to earn money doing jobs us 'normal' police officers don't have time to do I am the one who gets to make certain you don't stuff up said jobs. So. This is want we are going to do. First we'll go on a few easy outtings to get yer all familiar of how we do things round 'ere and then once I'm satisfied you all aren't a bunch of newborn infants when it comes to action, you'll get to go and do more interesting stuff like shotting things and stuf-

*Suddenly without warning a rather attractive young brunette lady bursts in - mid 20's, 5ft 10in - slamming the door against the paper thin wall so hard, she puts a hole in it.*

??? - Get to your feet you lot. NOW!!

Harris - *looks stunned* Commissioner J-Jordan. What are you doing here? I was just giving these recruits the briefing like I wa-

Hal - There's been a change in plans Harris. *Directs her gaze over to you.* Some worthless excuse for a human being has just made off with my ride. *mutters a curse under her breath* there's 2000CC for anyone who assists in its return plus another 2000CC for the peep that nails the son-of-a-bitch. I want that b*stards balls on a plate before the day is out YOU HEAR ME!?!?

*And with that the Commissioner exits the way she came, door slamming shut and swearing such a streak as to put a truckie to shame.*

Harris - Well you heard the commissioner; we have work to do! Grab your gear and then get your onto the road ASAP. We have a pursuit to enter.

[flapjack]

*while running outside with the rest and grabbing his gear flapjack tries to convince 1 of the other drifters to come with him and be his gunner, as without gunner his vehicle is a lot less effective*

*if flapjack manages to convince 1 of the other drifters to be his gunner, he runs outside with the drifter, then sprints to his vehicle and starts it*

*if flapjack doesn't manage to convince 1 of the drifters to be his gunner, he just sprints to his vehicle and starts it*

[Fluffie]

Fluffie grins as he stands up again; almost just after he found a nice seat. Rushing back to the trays along with the rest of the group, he grabs his 9mm and mace again. The mace hangs by his waist as he ruses to his bike, the 9mm is in his hands while he makes sure it's ready to nail that thief. With the pistol safely tucked away again, Fluffie bursts through the doors and jumps onto the saddle of his bike, putting the helmet on his head and starting the engine.

Revving it for a few short seconds, he waits for someone to point out the correct direction to disappear into... and then does so.

[AcidK]

-ooc-
Pronounced 'Cid'. Think about common use of the i after the C, making that C an 's' sound, thus pronounced 'Cid'.
-ooc-

*Cid sighes at the brawl and puts the map into a pocket before pulling out his crossbow, unclipping the chain and suddenly aiming it in the general direction of the brawl. He shouted as loud as he could, hopefully over the voices of the brawl.*

Stop this brawl or ya'll get three feet of bolt through yer chest!

*Cid waited for a form of silence before he caried on.*

The next person to begin another fight before the brawl t'morrow will receive the same! You lot *Cid pointed to the Skulldogs.* out, NOW! Before I open fire and send yer to the next life!

[KraKto$is8]

Originally posted by AcidK
[b]-ooc-
Pronounced 'Cid'. Think about common use of the i after the C, making that C an 's' sound, thus pronounced 'Cid'.
-ooc-

[ooc] Thought so; just making sure [/ooc]

* Leaving with a wink at Meg, The Mystic grabs his weapons and runs to his bike. Kick-starting it, within seconds he has left the police station behind in a cloud of dust. *

* Readying his chain and settling his mind, he prepares for his first fight in a while. *

[ooc] Hewitt - I'm KraK, not Kama! [/ooc]

[Fluffie]

Originally posted by KraKto$is8
[ooc] Hewitt - I'm on crack, just like Kama! [/ooc]

There. Absolutely senseless, unfunny and stupid as hell.

Go me.

[Hewitt]

ooc: Bloody peeps with their names filled with K's honestly...

*You all pile out of the station as fast as you can along with the few officers available hot on your heels. As you all make a break for your vehicles the police officers dash about handing out a bunch of hand held radios.*

Cop - switch to channel 6! We can know whats going on then...

*Just then a voice crackles from a number handsets.*

Police Radio - "...*crackle* -cheeky son-of-a-bitch is headed for the station! he should be blasting past any moment!!"

*Sure enough a loud roar echos down the dusty street as an armoured VX Commodore with police markings rockets down the main street at 200+ km/h leaving you all behind to choke on a thick cloud of dust. It has a single unmarked vehicle in pursuit save a portable blue light flashing brightly.*

Cop - God damn it!

*By now you all (should ) have started your rides and are moving off to join the pursuit.

Besides yourselves are the three other drifters, two enforcers on police motorcycles, one in another vehicle and one acting as gunner/shotgun in FLAPJACK'S vehicle.

Target:
Holden VX Commodore SS - '01 Sedan
V8 Racing Engine
Electronic fuel injection
2 Extra Fuel Tanks (Rear mounted)
Steel Plating
Front Bullbar
4 x Bolt throwers (Roof mounted)
+2 Acceleration
+2 Handling
+20km/h
Top speed: - 300km/h

In pursuit:
Ford XF Falcon - '87 Sedan
Improved V6 Engine
Turbocharger
Nitro boost (x2)
2 Spear Guns (Roof mounted)
2 Bolt throwers (Front mounted)
+1 Acceleration
+3 Durability
-10 Door handle Durability (bloody things are always breaking...)
Top speed: - 250km/h (boost: +25km/h)

You lot:
Fluffie (the evil one)

Krak (the mystic)

Flapjack

'78 Roadbike
Improved 125cc Engine
Animal skins
TS - 190km/h

'72 Sports car
Standard V8 Engine
Hardened leather
Bulldozer Shovel (front)
2 Metal spikes (front)
6 Extra fuel tanks
Self-destruct system
TS - 260km/h

'86 Wagon
Improved V6 Engine
Scrap metal
Bullbar (front)
Harpoon Gun (roof)
2 Mounted crossbows (rear)
TS - 230km/h

Policecycles (x2) - '95 Superbike
Standard 500cc Engine
Electronic Fuel injection
Extra Fuel Tank
TS - 280km/h

Police Cruiser - '94 Sedan
Standard V6 Engine
Twin turbocharger
Grapple hook launcher (front)
4 Bolt throwers (roof)
TS - 240km/h


Police radio - "Try a catch the bastard before he gets too far north; if he hits the open roads he's as good as gone."

[Hewitt]

*It takes a few minutes but soon there are about 40-50 odd hard-ass bikers looking in your general direction as you stand tall with your mighty crossbow...

It starts off as a few giggles in the background but soon the whole place is filled with roaring laughter. *

SK Leader - *Wipes away tears of laughter.* You're funny little man, but I'm afraid we'll have to kill you now.

*Before you know what's happening at least 10 crossbows are pointed at you. The snakehunter leader just looks at you and shrugs at your predictament.*

SK leader - Such a shame really... all balls and no brains; the Skulldogs could've made use of you. Oh well. See you in h-

BOOM!

*The man is cut off by a just returned Barry firing off one round from his shotgun.*

BTB - Alright peeps. Entertainments over. Everyone leave... NOW.

*There's a heap of grumbling but with a few nervous glances at the barkeeps shotty, weapons and fists are lowered and one by one the bikers start to file out quietly.*

SK leader - *glares at you* I'll see you again punk. I garrantee it. *leaves*

BTB - *Gives you a stern look.* You're lucky the enforcers are busy with something for not having arrived yet otherwise you would've most likely been spending tonight in a jail cell.

*Barry casts his eyes over the mess left by the brawl to make certain no bikers remain.*

BTB - You would be wise to leave town ASAP my friend now that the skulldogs have you in their eye; last outlander to come to their attention ended up going for a swim in the grain. I can cancel you entry to the 'fest - someone else is likely to take your spot so it's no big deal.

*Grabs a pen ready to strike your name off the list but waits for you to say something first.*

[Fluffie]

As soon as the stolen vehicle storms by, Fluffie would've kicked the pedal to the metal, had he been in a car. However, since he ain't, he just speeds off, getting his bike to top speed as fast as he can, following the dust cloud of the two racing vehicles and hoping on gaining distance... Those cars *did* look damned fast and his motorcycle engine only was a poor 250cc.

Poor him.

[AcidK]

*Cid stops Barry from striking out his name by slaming his hand on the sheet of paper and looks at him with a very calm, unemotioned look.*

No, I shall fight the Skulldogs if it means coming out in peices. I just wanted to cause a little tention here. Tell me, does that Snakehunters require someone to fight with them in the 'fest? If so, tell them I'll fight to my death there. Oh, and even if yer score me out, I'll turn up whether you like it or not, and beleive me, you'd have hoped you didn't score me name off.

*Cid placed the very heavy-looking crossbow on his back and turned, walking now towards his vehicle to drive out of town in the hope to find somewhere remote to rest a bit before the 'fest began.*

[flapjack]

*flapjack slams his foot on the gaspedal, then pushes that to the metal as he is in a car*

*his LX lorana hatchback (with dunebuggy mod) speeds off straight away, his heavy diesel engine good for long runs and high power, but not for high speeds*

*in the meanwhile flapjack's gunner has managed to switch the safety off the PHB and loaded a bunch of bolts into the system, ready to quickly burst off a lot of them if needed*

*flapjack sets the radio to channel 6 and asks whoever is listening if he has to just stop the car, or if the car has to be stopped intact*

[KraKto$is8]

[ooc] Damn, i'm started typing out a reply to this thread at least 2 times... I'll do it tonight. I'm sure of it. [/ooc]

[KraKto$is8]

[ooc] Er, didn't get online last night. Or something. Ahem. [/ooc]

* The mystic turns and corrects his course, bearing down on the VX, the police car in hot pursuit. *

* Bouncing over the desert rocks, The Mystic speeds his little bike to its maximum speed. *

* Finally, he switches his Radio to channel 6, and awaits command information. *

[Hewitt]

Will reply soon... no really, I will.

Honest!

[KraKto$is8]

Originally posted by Hewitt
Will reply soon... no really, I will.

Honest!

Watch out. You're beginning to sound like me.

[Fluffie]

[Hewitt]

BTB - You will and you did.

*He grins sideways at you*

BTB - You got balls mate I'll give ya that, a little over zealous maybe but there's definately something hanging down there. *Becomes serious again* Look, I'm serious about them Skulldogs, cruel b*stards they are I wouldn't recommend too many confrontations with them - doesn't matter how tough you might be - if you don't have many friends backing you up you're gonna find yourself up sh.t creek before you know it.

*Barry becomes intent on cleaning out a cracked beer mug*

BTB - Look mate if your staying for the 'fest I'll pull a few strings to see your left alone long enough to arrive living and well at the comp. I owe ya for preventing at least a few extra minutes of collatral damage to my pub. Now get out of here before the cops wake up a decide to pay a visit.

*He begins to wave you off when he thinks of something else.*

BTB - Oh btw, the Destructofest is a free for all. The operators tell me anything goes but you'll most definately be on your own then. Good luck.

*With that he goes off to begin the clean up and you leave the bar to return to your vehicle.

It is currently 10:30am. You've been here for less than ten minutes and already you have friends and enemies. What now?*

[Hewitt]

ooc - btw fuel usage now applies

*You all push your assorted vehicles to their limit as you do your best to catch up with the pursuit. Because of the different capabilities of your vehicles you all start to drift apart.*

Lt. Jackson (Ford XF) - "Northern checkpoint this is officer Jackson. I have a stolen vehicle headed your way and am in hot pursuit. Will arrive at any moment over."

Roadblock - "Noted Lt. Jackson. HQ notified us and we are setting up the barricades no- (In the background) Here they come sir. HALT! You are to stop immed- OMG!! RUN FOR I- CRA-*crackle* SON OF A *buzz* *tinkle* *tinkle* *crackle*"

Lt. Jackson - "Subject has gone through the checkpoint and is headed due north. I have him clocked at just over 220km/h.

HQ - "Acknowledged Jackson. Keep on him, help is on the way."

*You are now all driving along a standard two lane roadway headed almost due north and running in a dead straight line as far as the eye can see. The surrounding landscape is a series of dried up farmland, barren ground dotted with large rolls of left over straw from recent harvest.

At the front of the pursuit is the stolen VX, about ten metres behind is the Police XF matching it's speed.

Just going past the XF is KRAK on his suped-up Yamaha with FLUFFIE not far behind - about fifteen metres behind the XF.

Just in front of him however is the '72 sports car of one of the other drifters.

Go back another twenty metres and we have the Police cruiser with the two motorbikes flanking it on either side despite their potential for greater speed - this is because they are on the look out for a possible ambush.

Right behind the cruiser is FLAPJACK - using the slipstream to keep up - and back another ten metres is the '86 wagon with the '78 roadbike straped to it with some kind of makeshift brace made from the scrap metal covering the tank-like car. The biker is currently clambering onto the roof to man the Harpoon gun.

Since you have now caught up with the pursuit the gaps are starting to close as the VX is for some reason holding at 220km/h - probably trying to conserve fuel.*

Sgt. Harris (Police cruiser) - "The cavalry has arrived over."

Lt. Jackson - "Good to hear it. What's the plan? over."

Sgt. Harris - "The usual. Move aside as I nail that son-of-a-bitch with the grapple before he decides to floor it."

Lt. Jackson - "Sounds good to me. Ok everyone, clear the road to give line of fire."

*The XF and Sports car move into the right lane as the cruiser accelerates towards the VX down the left until it is level with the sports car (I hope you are all following this people ).*

Sgt. Harris - Ok here g-

*Then all of a sudden without warning the wagon launches a harpoon at the police cruiser. It just misses flapjack's buggy but it plows right into the right rear axle of the cruiser. The force of the impact sends the cruiser lurching forwards and slightly into the air, the entire wheel and rear door is ripped off as the harpoon passes through the car like tin foil before being stopped by a foam leather seat and the now lifeless body of the driver. The cruiser comes down with an audiable crack as the remains of the rear axle crash back down to earth - because this happens at over 200km/h the sudden imbalance and skewed landing angle cause the cruiser to flip over into a barrel roll sending debris everywhere. Lucky for flapjack and fluffie the roll is so fierce that the cruiser literally bounces just over them, unfortunately for the police bikers they had been on either side of the cruiser when it got king hit. One was hit from behind when the inital strike forced the car forward while the other ran right into the oncoming front end. One is now tumbling back alongside the roadway while the other is a part of the indistinguishable wreck now lying in a ditch.*

Lt. Jackson - "HOLY SH.T!!! WTF JUST HAPPENED!?"

*Too make matters worse it seems the driver of the sports car has hidden agendas as well - he has floored it and is headed for the XF with the obvious intention of ramming the last remaining police vehicle.

And to add insult to injury the driver of the stolen VX has just floored it.*

Have fun cleaning up this mess peeps

Target:
Holden VX Commodore SS - '01 Sedan
Top speed: - 300km/h
Current speed: - 230 km/h
- minor damage (front end)

Rogue drifters:
'78 Roadbike
TS - 190km/h
Attached to Wagon

'72 Sports car
TS - 260km/h
CS - 240km/h

'86 Wagon
TS - 230km/h
CS - 230km/h

In pursuit:
Ford XF Falcon - '87 Sedan
Top speed: - 250km/h (boost: +25km/h)
Current speed: - 230 km/h

Fluffie (the evil one)
CS - 250 km/h

Krak (the mystic)
CS - 280 km/h

Flapjack
CS - 220km/h

Policecycles - '95 Superbike
1 - Eating dust

2 - Mangled wreck

Police Cruiser - '94 Sedan
TS - 240km/h
- Mangled wreck

[Fluffie]

Muttering some curses and excited words beneath his breath, Fluffie tries to keep up and level with the '72 sports car, trying to find where it's extra fuel tanks are (with the number of them, I'm hoping they're pretty obvious to see). If he can get a good view of them, he draws his 9mm and opens fire (slowly, as well aimed as he can), hoping that a bullet, maybe two will cause the tanks to go up into shiny flames, taking the rest of the car with it.

He keeps an eye on the evil wagon behind him, not wanting the bitch to use those bullbars on his fancy butt. And yeah, once the fancy sport car blows, if it does at all, Fluffie tries to dodge it's burning and flying around remains as well as he can.


Bullets: ?/12 (+48)
Fuel: 20.9/22

[flapjack]

*flapjack yells at his gunner to fire a couple of bolts into the vehicle they're chasing, the gunner responding immediatly fires off a few bolts over the now clear 30/40 metres of road into the back of the VX, aiming low to try and hit the driveshaft/wheels and put the vehicle to a screeching halt in that way*

*just then the sports car begins trying to ram the other police car off the road and flapjack suddenly realises that the wagon behind them is still he threat, he thus yells at his gunner to turn the PHB around and give the driver of the wagon some pieces of metal through his chest, upon which the gunner is all nice and turns the PHB around to the wagon which is right behind them, throwing off the first PHB round at about the level the driver of the wagon is sitting at aimed specifically at that driver*

[AcidK]

*Cid does not know what to do for the next 8 hours, so he simple walks towards his vehicle and sits in the seat for a while, thinking to himself quietly as he pulls his heavy crossbow onto his lap and begins placing the graple chain back into the bolt.*

[KraKto$is8]

* The Mystic swerves over the road, taking advantage of any potholes to cause his bike to jump into the air. Both impressive, and useful for dodging purposes. He slowly gains on the VX, and pulls out his knife. *

* Coming up to the right hand side of the vehicle, he swerves, almost hitting the car, and plunges his knife into the tyre, then pulls it out. The tyre, now resembling ribbons, is consequently ruined. *

[Hewitt]

Replies delayed (again ) due to pending beer fest. Will proceed once soberity returns.

[KraKto$is8]

Originally posted by Hewitt
Will proceed once soberity returns.

Another 2 weeks then?