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  1. In Memory of LAJ_FETT: Please share your remembrances and condolences HERE

Thriller Wasteland Samurai Motorcycle Club

Discussion in 'Role Playing Forum' started by Reynar_Tedros, Jun 17, 2020.

  1. Ktala

    Ktala Force Ghost star 6

    Registered:
    Sep 7, 2002
    Treka LaRue (Kiki)
    The Oasis

    As Treka and DOG searched, she heard a high pitch whistle that cleared the air. DOG looked over confused. She gave a short soft whistle of her own, and DOG turned, to follow.

    "We got tracks!" Marcus hollered. "Let's go!"

    Treka paused. She then saw that Raaphael had pulled up next to Marcus. "KAZAN! LIA!" She yelled over the chorus of motorcycle engines. "Flank from the left and right. The Shogun and I will take point!"

    The call for blood. It did nothing for Treka. Her eyes were still fixed down the trail. She could now see that the buggies had stopped in the near distance, their souped up engines remaining on, humming through the quiet of the desert. Treka knew this drill. She was sure their snipper was lurking somewhere. But what Treka kept her eyes on was past those who had stopped. There was one dune buggy, still moving away from them. Treka looked over at DOG, making a few gestures, and then slapping her hands together. DOG took off running, to follow. He would not get too close however, his task was to simply keep the buggy in sight. His companions were trying to keep the group so busy, that they would lose sight of their target.

    With DOG following, Treka turned back to look at the group. She pulled down her cover and yanked free her shotgun. She leaned forward on her bike and waited.

    TAG: @Master Vo'Un'Var, @RachelTyrell, @The Jedi in the Pumas, @Shadowsun, @Reynar_Tedros, @DarkLordoftheFins
     
    Last edited: Sep 2, 2020
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  2. Reynar_Tedros

    Reynar_Tedros Jedi Grand Master star 6

    Registered:
    Jul 3, 2006
    The Oasis

    The standoff lasted for a brief moment, the two Gentlemen buggies idling there at the edge of the Oasis for a short while, each filled with four men of identical appearance, nature, and intentions.

    The driver of Buggy One saw the large canine take off past them, following the tracks of Buggy Three, which was likely far enough away now that it was invisible to the naked eye. "You three, get out and take care of the Samurai, I'll go get the mutt," the driver ordered, and the other three Gentlemen obeyed. The driver slammed his foot down on the accelerator and wheeled the buggy around in a cloud of sand, chasing after Dog. It didn't take long before the buggy came up alongside the loyal animal, and the Gentleman behind the wheel, maintaining speed, reached for a wooden baseball bat with spiked chains wrapped around the barrel, and readied his strike.

    Meanwhile, the three Gentlemen left behind focused their attention on Treka, each of them armed with their own spiked baseball bats and hideous grins beneath their mustaches.

    "Dirty little thing, ain't she?" one of them said.

    "Aye. She's got potential, though," another replied. "Little bit o' cleanin', she'll fit right in with the Ladies, eh?"

    "Guess we oughta be gentle with her, then," said the third, cupping the end of his bat in his hand. "Don't wanna damage the goods."

    Marcus, meanwhile, saw the three Gentlemen approaching Treka, and looked over at Kazan and Raaphael, who rode at the ready for attack. He would leave Buggy Two for them. Raaphael had already begun to charge towards it, Kazan close by. If the two of them could each take out one side of the tires apiece, the Gentlemen would be stranded and have no choice but to face them head-on, and the Shogun had no doubt his warriors would have little trouble dispatching the leather-clad thugs.

    Treka, however, wasn't quite as combat ready, though she could certainly hold her own. Marcus revved the Emperor's engine and sped over to the three Gentlemen approaching her. He readied his katana as he neared, sand kicking up behind the motorcycle, and while two of the Gentlemen were able to dive out of the way of Marcus' reach, the third wasn't so lucky. He obliviously turned his head just in time to see the sharp steel slice through the air, and blood spurted from the stump of his neck where his head rested a second ago. It landed on the ground with a thud, and Marcus braked and turned his bike around next to Treka, watching the two surviving Gentlemen scurry to their feet with fear in their eyes.

    "You wanna take 'em?" Marcus asked Treka as he calmly pulled a piece of cloth from the back pocket of his jeans and wiped the blood off his blade.

    Tag: @The Jedi in the Pumas, @Shadowsun, @Ktala
     
  3. Ktala

    Ktala Force Ghost star 6

    Registered:
    Sep 7, 2002
    Treka LaRue (Kiki)
    The Oasis

    Treka turned back to look at the group. She pulled down her cover and yanked free her shotgun. She leaned forward on her bike and waited. She noticed when one of the drivers began to chase DOG. She dug in her shirt and pulled out a small whistle. She gave it a short blow, but no sound was heard from it, and then tucked it back into her shirt. DOG would know what that meant.

    Meanwhile, she watched the other dunebuggies. Three of the 'Gentlemen' headed for her. Now Marcus knew she was not one to do much for killing.

    But these guys were an exception. She had a deep, loathing of these types of people. So she merely kept her shotgun trained on them. She almost chuckled. Three for little ole me? The thoughts that ran through her mind were very dark, and it included feeding some body parts to DOG. But a roar of a motorcycle engine told her she didn't need to worry. She knew the sound of that bike. Her head turned slightly, just in time to see Marcus come up, katana ready. He shot past the three, managing to neatly remove one head, as he came and turned his bike near Treka while the remaining two scurried to their feet.

    "You wanna take 'em?" Marcus asked Treka as he calmly pulled a piece of cloth from the back pocket of his jeans and wiped the blood off his blade.

    Treka grinned darkly. but didn't reply. She just grunted, nodded her head, and revved her bike, and shot forward. To the first man near her, she dispatched with her shotgun, giving him a blast to the head as her bike reared about. She wasn't about to bother with using a blade. A blade would be considered almost honorable. These were scum, who didn't deserve the honor. The other man, she took out the man's stomach. She didn't kill him, yet. If Marcus looks her way, she would look back over, shrugging her shoulders. "'case you need answers." She pumped the weapon, readying the next shot. She moved her bike out of arms reach, but behind the man, as she waited for a signal.

    DOG meanwhile, had heard the silent dog whistle. He also heard the buggy nearing him. Whistle meant two things. First, it was one blast, which meant he got to play the game that he loved to play with the group. Keep away. He suddenly dodged, and moved out of the way, a sudden sharp turn, to move him away from the vehicle. His job was to keep from getting touched, by the vehicle, or anything in the vehicle. His second was to start baying as loud as he could. He still was on task, for now. But if the guy attacked him, then DOG was going to have a chance to enjoy a tasty snack.


    TAG: @Master Vo'Un'Var, @RachelTyrell, @The Jedi in the Pumas, @Shadowsun, @Reynar_Tedros,
     
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  4. Shadowsun

    Shadowsun Force Ghost star 4

    Registered:
    Jun 26, 2017
    Kazan, The Saint
    On the Hunt

    The Bronze Dragon roared, bellowing down toward one of the Gentlemen's buggies. Its maw ready to consume blood and iron. It took a strong willed rider to control the intensity of the beast, something Kazan had in spades.

    As he drew closer to the buggy, he nodded to Raaphael a silent understanding of the task that needed to be enacted. He veered off to the left side, his arm outstretched, handgun in hand. His finger squeezing on the trigger.

    BANG! BANG!

    Two shots, one for each tire. Confident that they had made their mark he stowed his hand gun, withdrawing his katana from his back. He was ready, ready to spill the blood of these so called 'Gentlemen'

    TAG: @The Jedi in the Pumas @Reynar_Tedros @Ktala
     
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  5. The Jedi in the Pumas

    The Jedi in the Pumas Jedi Grand Master star 4

    Registered:
    Jun 23, 2018
    OOC: Sorry for the late response. Absolutely missed all the tags and thought I was waiting on an update.

    Raaphael Winsoon

    -The Oasis

    She needed no gun. She had naraku. Hell Incarnate.

    Raaphael swerved to the side opposite Kazan and at the same moment he fired his shots, Raaphael pulled the handlebars of her bike backwards, lifting the bike onto it's rear tire. High above the buggie, looking down on its inhabitants from high on her bike, her expressionless face must have seemed eerily calming...

    That was before she used the weight of the bike returning to it's front wheel to power the impaling of the front wheel of the buggie with Naraku. The spinout would be violent, sand would whirl around them, but she would keep beside the buggie until the Gentlemen came to a stop. Because as soon as they got out, she would quench naraku's thirst.

    Tag: @Ktala @Reynar_Tedros @Shadowsun
     
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  6. Reynar_Tedros

    Reynar_Tedros Jedi Grand Master star 6

    Registered:
    Jul 3, 2006
    The Oasis

    The Gentleman swung the spiked bat at the dog but missed as the canine dodged the attack at the last second, showing a surprising amount of agility for a creature of its size. The mustached man nearly lost his balance and fell out of the side of the buggie, but regained his stability in the driver’s seat and swerved the vehicle around. He’d concluded that the buggie wasn’t quick enough to track the nimble dog down, so he’d have to do it the hard way. His favorite way.

    Killing the engine, the Gentleman stepped out of the vehicle and stared down the dog with a sadistic grin, dragging the bat behind him and making a track in the sand. “Here, doggy doggy,” he teased. “Daddy’s got a treat for you.”

    Meanwhile, his compatriot who’d had his gut blown out by Treka‘s shotgun squirmed and moaned in the sand beneath the Samurai, his life leaving his body as quickly as the blood that began to puddle beneath him. He looked into the barrel of the weapon the woman had trained on him with eyes that watered from the pain and waited for the shot, hoping it would come and end this unbearable suffering for which he could find no word to describe.

    Marcus watched the proceedings, and waited for Treka to either make the killing blow or save her ammunition and let the man bleed out on his own. He gave Treka an indication that the man was worthless to them, that he was in no condition to be of any use, and that she could dispatch of him in whatever way she saw fit. Either way, they needed to hurry, to catch up to Dog and to continue tracking the remaining buggie.

    On the other side of the Oasis, the buggie that had attacked Raaphael and Kazan was now rolling end over end as the two Samurai had taken out three of its tires. It came to a stop upside down in the sand, and one of the Gentleman screamed, his broken arm pinned under the railing.

    The other three leather clad men slowly crawled out from the vehicle, dazed from the impact of the crash and oblivious to their violent fates that rested in the hands of the Samurai.

    Tag: @Ktala, @Shadowsun, @The Jedi in the Pumas
     
  7. The Jedi in the Pumas

    The Jedi in the Pumas Jedi Grand Master star 4

    Registered:
    Jun 23, 2018
    Raaphael Winsoon
    -The Oasis

    She wasted no time. None at all.

    Her steed's engines were killed. She had crossed the distance to the overturn buggy. Not with a sprint nor even a jog. A brisk walking pace with Naraku in her hands.

    The gentleman with a broken arm was silenced as Naraku plunged into the sand and, at Raaphael's elegant swing, slid through the flesh of his neck and his spine. Separating the man's head from his torso. She barely gave him a look and continued walking towards one of the other scrambling vagabonds. Slave traders. Monsters of the wasteland.

    No...

    That would be romanticizing them and she was not going to do that. They were worst than monsters. They were men. Just men. Capable of great good and great evil and all the good and evil in between. She knelt down, her emotionless face almost seeming bored. The beautiful uncaring visage of the Daimyo would be the last thing this man saw. So she grabbed a handful of his hair and plunged Naraku's blade into his stomach; her plain face watching as his contorted in anger and then agony before his spirit left his body for another kind of wasteland.

    She held his gaze, mindful that the other two would be trying to gain their bearings soon. She would kill them too if Kazan was too slow to punish them. She was confident he would not hesitate to dish out the death these men had earned. Earned either today or any of the past days they had spent terrorizing, raping, and killing...

    She held the gaze for a moment longer, before both hands grabbed the dead man's head and snapped his neck with a violent twist.

    Tag: @Reynar_Tedros @Shadowsun
     
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  8. Ktala

    Ktala Force Ghost star 6

    Registered:
    Sep 7, 2002
    Treka LaRue (Kiki)
    The bloody Dunes,

    Treka eyes slid over at to see Marcus response. She quickly got her response. Frankly, she would rather let him bleed out. These were the worse of the scum that she could think of, and leaving him to suffer would do him just fine.

    But she had DOG to think of. If she took to long, it would take a while to catch up with him.

    "Yer lucky day."

    Treka let another blast fire from the barrel of her rifle and then spun around to take off on her bike once more. As she moved, she slug her rifle behind her, and once more blew on her whistle, as she leaned forward, now following DOG's tracks, and the tracks of the other vehicle, her bike flying over the dunes as she revved her engines.

    ---

    DOG

    DOG moved to escape from the man. The game was still keep away. But now he had gotten off the noisy thing and was trying to catch him on foot. The ma stepped out of the vehicle and walked towards DOG.

    “Here, doggy doggy,” he teased. “Daddy’s got a treat for you.”

    DOG heard the whistle blast once more. DOG immediately switch directions and began to circle around the man, staying out of reach. If the man swung at him, DOG would attack him, waiting on this swing, and going for the jugular vein or wrist, which every was the easiest for him to take him down. And he would keep attacking until the man stopped moving. DOG's armor would help protect him. The man, would not be so lucky.

    TAG: @Reynar_Tedros, @Shadowsun, @The Jedi in the Pumas
     
  9. Shadowsun

    Shadowsun Force Ghost star 4

    Registered:
    Jun 26, 2017
    Kazan, The Saint
    The Oasis

    Kazan brought the engine of The Bronze Dragon to a faint whimper, parking it by the side of the rolled over buggy. He clambered off his bike, the sand shining red from his armor. He marched with a calm confidence, his katana held in his right hand. Patient and ready to end the Gentlemen's suffering. He loomed over the two Gentlemen struggling to escape from the wreckage. He glared over them, a towering manifestation of justice.

    He was Kazan.

    He was the Saint.

    [​IMG]

    He lifted his boot on the head of one of the squirming men, it wriggled underneath his might, unable to get free. He began to apply pressure as he got out his katana, plunging it through the head of the other Gentlemen. As he did so he flatted the skull of the other one, blood spurting out, painting the sand.
    There was no emotion to his actions, no remorse, no joy, no guilt, no pleasure. It just was.

    TAG: @The Jedi in the Pumas @Reynar_Tedros @Ktala
     
  10. Reynar_Tedros

    Reynar_Tedros Jedi Grand Master star 6

    Registered:
    Jul 3, 2006
    The Oasis

    The Gentleman heard the rumbling of the motorcycle cease as he crawled his broken body through the sand, and knew that his fate was sealed. He could hear the Samurai's footsteps approaching as he blinked the coarse sand out of his eyes that had begun to water, from fear of his certain death or an evolutionary reaction to the sand, he didn't know. Her approach was slow, calculated, just as he'd always heard the Samurai were. The stories had come from all over, and his belief of them had only been reaffirmed as he watched through blurred eyes the woman slice his friend's head off of his body like the frayed end of a cigar. She'd barely paid the dead man a second glance as she made her way towards her next victim, towards him.

    She knelt down before him, his eyes now clear so as to gaze into those cold, bleak irises and know that the angel of death herself stared back, his soul just the latest to which she would soon lay claim. She grasped a handful of his hair and he braced as she plunged her lengthy blade into his stomach, not as merciful to him as she was to the one before. He tried to scream but his mouth gave only a faint gasp as his body writhed in agony, and all of the sins and all of the pain that he'd caused and inflicted throughout the course of his short life here in this desert had rushed to the front of his mind as the blood of his body spilled to the sand gathered there beneath him, and he knew that his debt had been collected.

    He turned his head and his eyes glazed over at the sight of the second Samurai on the other side of the overturned buggie, where the other two Gentlemen would soon meet their own ends. If this woman before him was the angel of death, the Samurai on the other side was the devil himself, his face hidden behind that demonic helmet of protruding horns and fangs bared to feast on the souls of those whose penance was due, of whose sins were unforgiveable but tallied all the same. The demon's sword plunged through the head of one Gentleman, while the heel of his boot crushed the skull of the other into a flattened display of blood and bones. There was no emotion from the devil Samurai, just as there was no emotion from the angel, and as she grabbed his head and angled her hands to snap his neck and end his life for good, he wondered if they were all monsters in the end, and these thoughts turned to nothingness as the crack of his neck cast them out into that blissful void where there was no sight nor sound nor thought at all.

    Meanwhile, Marcus watched Treka make her decision to let the Gentleman bleed out on his own as she turned and kicked her motorcycle into gear, following the tracks of the buggie that had pursued Dog. The Shogun turned his head to face Raaphael and Kazan as they finished off their own jobs, and motioned for them to follow him. It was time to leave the Oasis and this brief distraction behind, and resume their hunt for the Gentlemen who'd foolishly captured the innocent Ventura girl, unaware of the grave mistake they'd made in service of their nefarious natures. He kicked the Emperor into gear and roared past the last living Gentleman, who was slowly crawling as if to some unknown destination as the last of his life slowly poured out of his pathetic mortal shell.

    When Marcus and Treka caught up to Dog and the final Gentleman standing between the Samurai and their destination, the canine was circling the mustached man, who held a wooden baseball bat with nails hammered sporadically into the barrel.

    The Gentleman looked away from the dog for a moment to see the two Samurai seated atop their bikes, and he thought he could hear two more approaching, which meant that they had made it past the other seven Gentlemen back at the Oasis. His eyes, full of much less confidence than they'd had a moment before, moved back to the animal, whose large body was hunched down close to the ground, ears high, tail still, teeth bared and ready for a feast the second the opportunity presented itself.

    "Looky there, doggy," the man said with a malicious grin. "We've got ourselves an audience. Let's not keep them waiting!" As fast as he was able, which wasn't very fast at all, the Gentleman closed the gap between himself and Dog, and swung the spiked bat with all his might at his four-legged opponent. It was a blow that would doubtlessly prove futile, and open himself up to attack from any direction.

    Tag: @Ktala, @The Jedi in the Pumas, @Shadowsun
     
  11. Shadowsun

    Shadowsun Force Ghost star 4

    Registered:
    Jun 26, 2017
    Kazan, The Saint
    The Oasis

    Kazan simply nodded as his Shogun met his hidden gaze. Sheathing his katana, he marched back to The Bronze Dragon, turning the key to reignite the flame of the beast. It roared back into life, speeding along to follow the remaining Gentlemen.

    He noted the final Gentlemen standing pitiful with his spiked mat. Kazan reached to his side, pulling out his trusty side arm. He aimed toward the Gentlemen, who had mistakenly taken a swing at DOG. He lined up the sight, adjusting for the slight wind, toward the space between the man's eye brows. He squeezed the trigger.

    BANG!

    Kazan continued to speed along, onward toward the final buggy that had made off with the girl. Time was of the essence after all.

    TAG: @The Jedi in the Pumas @Ktala @Reynar_Tedros
     
  12. Ktala

    Ktala Force Ghost star 6

    Registered:
    Sep 7, 2002
    Treka LaRue (Kiki)
    The bloody Dunes

    When Marcus and Treka caught up to Dog and the final Gentleman standing between the Samurai and their destination, the canine was circling the mustached man, who held a wooden baseball bat with nails hammered sporadically into the barrel.

    The Gentleman looked away from the dog for a moment to see the two Samurai seated atop their bikes, and he thought he could hear two more approaching, which meant that they had made it past the other seven Gentlemen back at the Oasis. His eyes, full of much less confidence than they'd had a moment before, moved back to the animal, whose large body was hunched down close to the ground, ears high, tail still, teeth bared and ready for a feast the second the opportunity presented itself.

    [​IMG]


    "Looky there, doggy," the man said with a malicious grin. "We've got ourselves an audience. Let's not keep them waiting!" As fast as he was able, which wasn't very fast at all, the Gentleman closed the gap between himself and Dog, and swung the spiked bat with all his might at his four-legged opponent. It was a blow that would doubtlessly prove futile, and open himself up to attack from any direction.

    Treka watched. The man was slow and clumsy on the sand. He swung the bat with all of his might, which DOG easily dodged. But since the man swung so hard, it left him open, as he could not recover fast enough. And DOG did the give the man the chance to correct the mistake.

    As soon as the man's club passed him, DOG attacked, leaping up and going straight for the man's neck. His size and speed sent both him and the man tumbling down, with DOG being on top. DOG was busy holding down with all of his strength, his teeth clamped down on the man's throat and artery, blood shooting out, as the man tried to get DOG off of him. He tried to use his club to hit DOG, but DOG simply moved his body, avoiding the swings, as he shook the man like a rag doll. The only time DOG let go, was to obtain a tighter grip on the man's throat.

    Treka watched for a few moments, letting DOG have his fun. But then she revved her bike, shooting forward, riding down on where DOG was now thoroughly involved. Treka hated to spoil his fun, but they needed to rescue the girl. Treka rode her bike down. The man wasn't so snarky now. She whistled, and wiggled her fingers. DOG moved, whining. "Do, worry," she told him as she patted his head. She then looked at the man who had tried to attack DOG.

    "Idiot."

    She then blasted him between the eyes. She wasn't going to let anyone hurt DOG. She then climbed back on her bike.

    "One more. I could use the spare parts."

    She then roared her bike back to life, looking over at Marcus. She said nothing, the look on her face dark. She whipped the splattering of blood from her face. She gestured to DOG.

    "Find 'em"

    TAG: @Reynar_Tedros, @Shadowsun, @The Jedi in the Pumas
    ------------------
     
  13. The Jedi in the Pumas

    The Jedi in the Pumas Jedi Grand Master star 4

    Registered:
    Jun 23, 2018
    Raaphael Winsoon
    -The Oasis

    As the last Gentleman that stood in their way bled out on the sand, Raaphael pulled her bike up beside Marcus. Her face still expressionless. She was impressed at DOG's maneuvers and Treka's mercilessness. She blinked and nodded her head in the direction where the last Samurai had disappeared with the girl.

    She looked over at Marcus.

    "Do you think the Gentlemen knew who they were grabbing when they took the girl?" The Gentlemen trying to traffic Gregor's daughters did not make a lot of sense. But then again....the Gentlemen were not the brightest in the Wasteland. Their fate was sealed now and perhaps it was a meaningless grab job for an unfortunate target.

    Perhaps.

    Tag: @Reynar_Tedros @Ktala @Shadowsun
     
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  14. Reynar_Tedros

    Reynar_Tedros Jedi Grand Master star 6

    Registered:
    Jul 3, 2006
    The Oasis

    When the Samurai had all departed from the Oasis, the roaring engines of their infamous mounts fading away in the invisible distance, a group of dead bodies lying in puddles of blood and sand idled in their wake. The old blind man with eyes of pale clouds who’d greeted them before, whose thin skin revealed an unsettling amount of detail of his skeletal frame and whose patchy grey hair atop his head was as scattered as his sanity, stood once again from his place beside the water and stretched his back, bones cracking and popping in response. The sand clung to his bare wet feet as he traversed slowly toward the sound of the dying engines of the upturned dune buggies, and despite his lack of vision and speed, he moved like a man in need of no guide. When the graininess of the sand beneath his feet turned to the familiar stickiness of blood, he stopped and moved his head from side to side, as if calmly surveying the scene he could not see. And then he slowly knelt, licking the drool forming about his cracked lips, and lowered his face to the first body.


    ——————————


    Marcus Rhodes
    The Wasteland

    Marcus stood over the dead Gentleman, his tall, wiry frame casting a shadow over the body that was riddled with bullet holes and Dog’s teeth marks where the skin used to be.

    "Do you think the Gentlemen knew who they were grabbing when they took the girl?" Raaphael asked the Shogun.

    Marcus went down to one knee next to the corpse. “Doubt it,” he replied to his Daimyo. “If they did, then I reckon they’re as dumb as they look.” He reached his arms out and grabbed the body and turned it over so that it lay face down in the sand, and went to remove the bloodstained leather vest. He put the vest up to his nose and sniffed it, confirming that it was the source of the faint scent he’d detected earlier. All the Gentleman were wearing the same cologne, a valuable commodity in the Wasteland. It was a sign of luxury and a wealth afforded to very few.

    Still on one knee, Marcus whistled for Dog. “Come here, boy,” he called. The canine approached calmly, Marcus being one of the few humans he trusted. “Here, get a whiff.” He put the vest up to Dog’s wet nose, which moved and fluttered as he inhaled the scent and committed it to his memory. Marcus scratched him behind the ears. “Good boy. Let’s go find those sons o’ bitches.”

    The tracks in the sand were still visible for the most part, but when they faded beyond recognition, Dog was able to point the Samurai in the right direction with his nose, following the smell of the cologne the Gentlemen wore. The trek was long. Marcus had observed the enhanced engines the dune buggies from before had had, making them faster than their typical counterparts, and occasionally the Samurai would lose the tracks of their target and Dog would take a moment or two to pick up the scent again. But still they followed.

    Hours passed, and the Samurai soon found themselves in territory they’d no recollection of traversing before. The broken road on which they’d traveled had ended miles back, and the valley they now rode through came out to a small canyon where a wooden four story structure was built next to the side of a rock face. There were fire escape stairs on the side of the building, and a couple of armed mustached men in leather vests patrolled the perimeter below.

    Marcus stopped his bike. “Kill your engines,” he told the Samurai, confident that they were far enough away from the compound that no Gentlemen had heard their approach. He lifted himself from the Emperor and approached the edge of the canyon, kneeling down and taking in the scene below. He looked over at Dog with a faint hint of pride in his eyes, and whistled for him to come over. He reached into a pocket of his vest and pulled out a treat for the canine, feeding it to him and scratching him behind the ears. "Good boy," he said.

    There was a dune buggie parked in front of the building down below, and from it came three Gentlemen, two from each front seat and one from the back. The latter was a little slower getting out, and Marcus watched as he pulled an unconscious young girl by her hair down into the sand, and dragged her as he walked like she was some doll for which he had little regard whatsoever. Her bare feet made tracks in the dirt, and her body was completely limp. Marcus wondered if she was alive.

    "Prize for the Matriarch," the Gentleman dragging the girl said proudly to another who stood in front of the door leading into the compound, armed with a machine gun slung around his shoulder.

    The guard, who sported the same mustache as all Gentlemen and wore a pair of aviators over his eyes, took a long drag on his cigarette and stepped forward and took a long look at the unconscious girl, who looked to be eight or nine years old. She had blonde hair and fair skin that was caked in dirt and grime from what was doubtlessly an eventful trip back to her new home. He looked at the face of the man who held her by her hair, and observed the scratch marks on his cheek that still leaked blood.

    "Gave you a bit of a fight, did she?"

    "She's a pest all right, but easily tamed. The young ones always are."

    "Well, that's for the Matriarch to decide." The guard took another drag on his cigarette and blew the long cloud of smoke off to the side. He motioned his head to the doorway. "Take her in."

    Marcus watched all of this unfold from his perch above the canyon with the Samurai next to him. He observed the four stories of the structure, the few armed guards that patrolled it, and surmised with confidence that the five of them could handle whatever these mustached lowlifes would throw at them at a moment's notice. The Shogun looked over at Raaphael, at Kazan, at Treka and Dog. "Well," he said, patting the sword sheathed on his hip. "One floor for each of us. Wait 'till nightfall?"

    Tag: @Shadowsun, @Ktala, @The Jedi in the Pumas
     
    Last edited: Dec 8, 2020
  15. Ktala

    Ktala Force Ghost star 6

    Registered:
    Sep 7, 2002
    Treka LaRue (Kiki)
    Hidden in the Wastelands

    While on one knee, Marcus whistled for Dog. “Come here, boy,” he called. DOG looked over towards Treka who nodded. As DOG grew closer, Marcus had stripped the jacket from the body, and Treka grinned in response. Marcus, being one of the few humans he trusted. At least enough to get close to. “Here, get a whiff.” He put the vest up to Dog’s wet nose, as Marcus scratched him behind the ears. “Good boy. .”

    Tail wagging hard, DOG barked once. They were playing a new game. A new game of hide and seek was about to begin. He took off.

    As Treka and the others followed, Treka moved the canopy of her bike to cover her, as they rode. Flicking a switch, her bike made less noise. The group followed the tracks as best as they could. DOG was able to point the Samurai in the right direction with his nose, following the scent. When the tracks disappeared, DOG would take a moment or two to pick up the scent again. But still, they followed.

    Hours passed, and the Samurai soon found themselves in a territory they’d no recollection of traversing before. The broken road on which they’d traveled had ended miles back, and the valley they now rode through came out to a small canyon where a wooden four-story structure was built next to the side of a rock face. There were fire escape stairs on the side of the building, and a couple of armed mustached men in leather vests patrolled the perimeter below.

    Trekka saw the hand movement and flicked the switch to kill the engine, coasting in close to where Marcus had moved to. He lifted himself from the Emperor and approached the edge of the canyon, kneeling down and taking in the scene below. He looked over at DOG and whistled for him to come over. He reached into a pocket of his vest and pulled out a treat for the canine, feeding it to him and scratching him behind the ears. "Good boy," he said. DOG was happy. Another game. As he chewed on his snack, Trekka got some water out for him. It had been a long trek. She then listened to Marcus, as she sat on her haunches.

    "Well," he said, patting the sword sheathed on his hip. "One floor for each of us. Wait 'till nightfall?"

    Trekka didnt like to wait. But they could use the rest to get ready. Besides, there was no way they could cross that open area in broad daylight without getting attacked. She low crawled over to look out the scene. She crawled back to the others and looked at Marcus.

    "Think my Crossbow could reach it. Could slide down to it. Or maybe send em a present, and keep em busy, while we attack?" Trekka asked with shiny eyes.


    TAG: @Reynar_Tedros, @Shadowsun, @The Jedi in the Pumas
     
  16. Shadowsun

    Shadowsun Force Ghost star 4

    Registered:
    Jun 26, 2017
    Kazan, The Saint

    Kazan nodded as Marcus spoke of waiting to nightfall. His thoughts drifted to that of the poor girl doubtless terrified of what had befallen her. He clambered off The Bronze Dragon the thundering roar dimming down to that of a whimper. He pulled out his weapons, his handgun, and katana, bringing it in front of him as he began to methodically clean the weapons, his true focus on that what Treka was saying. He had a small white cloth in his hand, stained from all the cleaning he had done, he felt the smooth curve as he traveled across the blade, feeling for any imperfections.

    "Think my Crossbow could reach it. Could slide down to it. Or maybe send em a present, and keep em busy, while we attack?

    Kazan was not one for stealth missions, which it seemed this was leaning toward, and why they presumably would wait to nightfall, his bright red armor was not very conducive for such an operation.

    So he liked LaRue's suggestion to distract them while they would attack, it made sense to him. He remained silent, not adding anything to the conversation as he sat in silence, the only noise he made was the quiet movements of him cleaning his weapon.

    TAG: @Reynar_Tedros @The Jedi in the Pumas @Ktala
     
    Last edited: Jan 17, 2021
  17. The Jedi in the Pumas

    The Jedi in the Pumas Jedi Grand Master star 4

    Registered:
    Jun 23, 2018
    OOC: LETS GET BACK TO IT!!!

    Raaphael Winsoon

    -Surveying the Gentlemen, Wasteland

    "We should wait til night."

    Raaphael side glanced Treka. Attempting an assault in broad day had little to do with whether the Samurai could actually make it to the house. The captive girl, or girls, inside would immediately be in danger. She sat down, cross-legged, beside Marcus. She said nothing. Her contempt for their mission was already stated and known. It would serve no purpose to highlight how far they had traveled, how vulnerable they were out here, all for the daughter of a man who could still withdraw his product from them. Even if they succeeded in retrieving the girl.

    So, she would rest until night, or until Marcus changed his mind. Raaphael was suited for nighttime raids. It was how she had overcome many a hard place against men much stronger than she was in the past. She would be comfortable killing the men, no matter what the scenario of engagement.

    Tag: @Ktala @Shadowsun @Reynar_Tedros
     
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  18. Reynar_Tedros

    Reynar_Tedros Jedi Grand Master star 6

    Registered:
    Jul 3, 2006
    Marcus Rhodes
    The Wasteland

    It had been settled, then, despite suggestions to the contrary from Treka, that the Samurai would move on the Gentlemen’s headquarters at nightfall. Security would be lax, Marcus was confident, and it would give the Samurai time to prepare, to formulate their own strategies on how to attack each floor individually. The Shogun thought it wise to divide and conquer, to take each floor by surprise simultaneously, rather than focus all of their efforts on one and let the other three prepare for the onslaught. The Gentlemen wouldn’t know what hit them, and by the time they figured it out, the Samurai’s work would be done.

    And so, Marcus found a shaded patch of dirt nearby, sat down and crossed his legs, placed his hands upon his knees, and slowly closed his eyes in deep meditation.

    When the Shogun’s eyes opened at the conclusion of his meditation, night had fallen. The moon was full and the wind was calm, the air cooler than it had been but not uncomfortable. Marcus rose and acknowledged the rest of the Samurai. He was unsure what they’d done to occupy their time while he was meditating, but he could tell, with no surprise, that they were ready. This is what they were trained for, what they devoted their lives to. It was time to act.

    “Let’s go,” he said to them, and led the way to edge of the canyon that the headquarters backed up to. There was, conveniently, a sturdy rock protruding from the dirt that would hold the weight of any of them, and Marcus took a rope from Treka’s seemingly boundless inventory and wrapped it around the boulder, knotting it tightly. He took the other end of the rope and walked to the edge of the face, slowly lowering it down where it landed softly on the roof of the building with plenty of slack to spare.

    He looked back at the Samurai. “Y’all know what to do. I’ve got the ground floor. Cut through whoever you need to to get what information you can. We know the girl’s inside somewhere. The mustaches are expendable. When you’re done, descend one floor until you meet up with each other, then keep going down. We’ll converge on the ground floor and go from there.”

    With that, Marcus grabbed the robe firmly in his hands, planted his feet on the edge of the cliff, and slowly began his descent down onto the roof, expecting the Samurai to follow one by one. When he touched down, he bent his knees and crept to the edge of the roof, carefully and quietly. He peaked over the edge and looked down on a Gentleman standing there on the fire escape smoking a cigarette with an assault rifle on his back, strapped over his shoulder, looking out over the compound.

    “Knew they wouldn’t come back,” he was muttering to himself. “Bastards. Leaving me here to stand guard while they’re out stretching their legs.”

    Marcus carefully moved himself to the edge of the roof and, planting his hands firmly at the lip and putting all of his weight on his arms, slowly lowered his body down until his feet were on each side of the oblivious Gentleman’s face. A second later, the man’s head was swiftly jolted to the side with Marcus’ boots, snapping his neck and fracturing the vertebrae within. Marcus held the limp body up by its head with his feet, and carefully lowered himself the rest of the way down, easing the corpse of the dead Gentleman down onto the metal floor without a sound.

    He checked the window behind him when he touched down, and saw another Gentleman asleep on the cot within, leather vest tossed to the side, his slow breath moving the hairs of the signature curled mustache. Leaving him for another Samurai, Marcus descended the stairs until he reached the first floor. He carefully peaked inside this window, where a Gentleman knelt down on the floor surrounded by discarded trash, facing away from him and fiddling with a radio until the signal came in clearly.

    “An inebriated good evening to all you lovely ladies and gentlemen out there giving life to this dead little world of ours, God bless you and I hope this broadcast finds you as pleasantly plastered as I currently am. And for any kiddos out there who might be listening, remember that you don’t need intoxicants to find your happy place. Mommy and Daddy on the other hand... if they’re, uh, lucky enough to still be around. But you can find yourself under the influence of a lot of things that give your soul a little light without breaking some extinct Old World law, air quotes. Music, for example, is a remarkable remedy for our current never ending conundrum, and that’s what your friendly neighborhood Sandman is here for. When I first came across this song that I’m about to play for you, I thought to myself, I said ‘Sandman, you found yourself a new track, look at you!’ Turns out that wasn’t the case, because I did a little digging and discovered that this song was recorded well over a century ago, probably more. And the reason I was surprised by this is because it’s such a vivid portrait of an old friend of mine, and I thought surely someone had come across this man and written a song about him. But no, friends, this is one of the truest cases of life imitating art. So here’s to you, you old Samurai, wherever you are out there. May your sword be shiny and clean, and may we all be on our best behavior to keep it that way.”


    “Turn it up, would ya friend?”

    The Gentleman jumped at the sound of the deep, southern drawl behind him.

    “This tune’s a real killer.”

    The Gentleman leapt to the side for his gun, but the dagger that flew through air pierced his temple before he could reach it and he fell to the floor with a lifeless thud. Marcus, with his katana already unsheathed, walked across the room to retrieve the bloody blade from the corpse, and kicked open the door to the next room. Inside was a woman in tattered clothing handcuffed to the metal leg of a small bed, and a shirtless Gentleman fastening the belt that looped through his black denim jeans. He looked up aghast at the man with long silver hair, and was unable to defend himself before the katana impaled his throat and he coughed up the last of his existence. The woman watched silently, and Marcus, sheathing his swords, knelt down beside her.

    “I’m looking for the little girl they brought in today,” he told her calmly. “Do you know where they took her?”

    The woman only shook her head, clearly afraid, and her eyes darted to the door that lead to the next room as it opened. The Gentleman looked at the two of them, then his eyes widened and he grabbed the pistol tucked at the rear of his black jeans. Marcus leapt up and tackled the man into the next room, headbutting his nose and fracturing it, but not before he was able to get a stray shot off from the pistol.

    If the rest of the floor, perhaps the entire building, didn’t know Marcus was here, they did now.

    Marcus got on his knees and snapped his assailant’s neck with his hands and quickly stood to his feet as two Gentlemen hurried into the room from the door on the other side. The Shogun grabbed the corpse from the floor and used it as a human shield as they fired off rounds from their pistols at him. He advanced slowly, and when the two men began to reload, he threw the body at the one on the left and unsheathed his katana, using it to paint the walls with the contents of the man on the right’s carotid artery. He turned and did the same to the man on the left who’d shoved the body off of him just in time to see the flash of steel slicing its way through the air to end the threat against its wielder.

    The door to the hallway opened and a Gentleman entered brandishing a serrated combat knife. He lunged forward at Marcus, who sidestepped the attack and brought out his own dagger, dismembering the man’s hand from his arm. Marcus grabbed the severed hand out of the air before it fell, plucked the knife out of the fingers still wrapped around it, and swiftly plunged it into the ear of screaming Gentleman, whose pain had now ceased as he collapsed to the floor in a heap.

    Marcus stepped out into the narrow, dimly lit hallway, where multiple Gentlemen on either side of him advanced. The Shogun, brandishing his katana with both hands, sidestepped a punch from his first attacker and plunged his weapon through the man’s stomach and out again. The next attacker’s head was cut clean off, causing another Gentleman to trip and fall over it. A shot rang out, the bullet missing Marcus’ face by an inch and lodging into an assailant’s skull. Marcus found the source of the shot and sliced off the hands of the shooter, grabbing the gun out of the air and firing off shots into various targets with one hand as he continued to slice through Gentlemen with his katana in the other. When the clip was empty, Marcus used the butt of the pistol to shatter another man’s nose, but at the expense of this maneuver, a stray kick had caused him to lose his grip on the katana, and it clattered to the floor. He scanned frantically amongst the chaos and saw a hand reaching to grab the handle of the blade. Removing his dagger from its sheath, Marcus slammed the blade straight through the hand of the reaching Gentlemen, who screamed and lurched back. The Shogun grabbed his katana and brought it up in a furious motion that sliced vertically through a Gentleman from crotch to neck. This sent the surrounding Gentlemen back in horror, and Marcus used the brief respite to regain the offensive and resume his vigorous onslaught. The Shogun’s blade twirled through the air in a bloody symphony of destruction, his body moving with the fluidity and grace of a man half his age, with the violence and fury of a scorned deity unleashing his vengeance upon his inferior subjects.

    Meanwhile, in a room at the back of the building where the sound of the ruckus outside was getting uncomfortably louder, a young blonde woman whose left hand was handcuffed to a desk bolted to the ground listened carefully to the commotion outside as her two Gentlemen sentries readied their guns on either side of the only door leading into the room.

    “You need to let me go,” she said.

    The two Gentlemen looked at her. “As if,” one of them said, while the other scoffed.

    “Listen, I’m pretty sure I know who that is out there, and believe me when he gets here, you’ll be dead before you squeeze the trigger.”

    “You’ll be dead before I squeeze the trigger if you don’t shut your mouth, girl,” the mustached man on the left retorted.

    “Not sure that makes much sense, mate,” the one on the right said.

    “Shut up.”

    The woman knew her pleas would fall on deaf ears. Luckily the Matriarch always made her Gentlemen fasten their handcuffs loosely, as most of the clientele wanted their Ladies clean and unmarked. They preferred to do the damage themselves. So the lithe woman began to slide her hand through the cuff slowly as the Gentlemen’s attention was refocused on the carnage outside. If she was wrong about who it was out there causing all that racket, she wasn’t going to be defenseless when they eventually made their way here. But she knew she wasn’t wrong. Of all the stories she’d heard, there was only one man in the Wasteland who would be able to carve his way through all those Gentlemen like that, and she wouldn’t let him find her tucked away in a corner all shaken and vulnerable.

    “Ow,” she exclaimed aloud. “Hey, can one of you loosen these? It’s cutting off my circulation.”

    “Can it,” the Gentlemen didn’t bother looking at her.

    The woman rattled the chain on the metal leg of the desk. “And what would the Matriarch say if she found one of her prized possessions damaged while under your guard? What would she do to you, I wonder?”

    The Gentlemen exchanged looks, and the one on the left motioned for the one on the right to go over. He sighed, put his gun down by his waste, and walked over to the woman.

    When the Gentleman had knelt down next to her to observe the cuff from which she was now free, the woman swiftly rolled over and positioned herself behind him, wrapping her legs tightly around his torso and her arm around his neck while simultaneously grabbing the gun out of his relaxed hand. On her back with the Gentleman writhing on top of her, she pressed the inside of her elbow firmly into his laryngeal prominence, and he choked for air as she aimed the gun straight at the Gentleman at the door who was aiming his at the two of them.

    “Uh-uh,” the woman shook her head. “Put it down.”

    The Gentleman knew the punishment that would befall him should any harm come to the woman, so he did as he was told, and tossed the gun to the floor.

    The woman motioned to the desk with the pistol. “Cuff yourself.”

    The Gentleman obediently walked over to the desk and knelt down beside it, the woman keeping her gun trained on him the whole time. He grabbed a key ring from his jeans, used one of them to unlock the cuff that the woman had just escaped from, wrapped it around his own wrist, and fastened it.

    “Tighter,” she said. He fastened it another few notches. “Tighter. And throw away the keys.” He did as he was told, and the keys clattered across the room.

    With the Gentleman on top of her now subdued and the other one immobilized, the woman stood, still holding on to the unconscious man, and moved to the back of the room, farthest away from the door. She held the man in front of her with one arm and aimed the gun squarely at the door. Outside, the commotion had come to an uncomfortable halt. She knew they were all dead, that all the Gentlemen had been slain. Her mind hadn’t yet begun to fathom the consequences of what was occurring, and the unknown ramifications it would have, the ripple effect it would create in the Wasteland and beyond. Her mind was sharp and focused now upon the killer outside, who’d just stepped up to the only door on the floor still closed.

    The knob turned. The door opened with a slow creak, and Marcus stood there, breathing heavily, his body and blade drenched in blood. The woman lowered her gun, dropped the unconscious man to the floor.

    “It is you,” she said. “You’re Marcus Rhodes. The Shogun.”

    [​IMG]

    Tag: @Ktala, @Shadowsun, @The Jedi in the Pumas
     
    Last edited: Mar 2, 2021
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  19. The Jedi in the Pumas

    The Jedi in the Pumas Jedi Grand Master star 4

    Registered:
    Jun 23, 2018
    Raphael Winsoon
    -The Wasteland, With a Lad named Jugo

    Marcus took one side of the roof. Raphael knew that she did not need to worry about him nor he about her. No...this night would be one where she regressed.

    Often, Marcus spoke of the great samurai code; the honor by which they should live their lives and because of the respect she had for her shogun, Raphael abided by most of the tenants and pillars. Sex with multiple strangers and dancing till all hours of the night in her little cottage...well what she did in the privacy of her home was her business. Not that anyone truly cared. As long as business was strong and people acted with respect when in their presence, the Samurai could care less what the Wasteland did. Except that the Gentlemen...well they violated a number of the aforementioned, rather reasonable demands.

    They were ******* with the business. The Church's money.

    They kidnapped the daughters of their business partners and (though they could not have known how Marcus would respond) caused Marcus to go off on one of his heroic, bloody rescues. This was cutting into Raphael's drinking time. The time when she would be traveling from bar to bar, dance house to dance house searching for companionship. She was out in the Wasteland instead, under the chilly moonlit sky. Completely underdressed for the occasion and circumstance. Long story short:

    Raphael Winsoon was not emotionless and stoic, not entirely. She was irritated. Which meant that the Gentlemen would get her at her worst.

    "Jugo." She whispered into the ear of a Gentleman; the first of the many unfortunates to inhabit this whorehouse on this chilly, moonlit night. He gasped before Jugo pierced his jugular. The air never even made it to his lungs as it, along with pints of his blood, erupted out of his neck. He stumbled from the balcony to the hallway, blood spraying on his top-hat fitted comrades. The two of them looked at his death unfolding in front of them before their eyes slid to the silhouette of Raphael on the balcony. One reached for his pistol as Jugo was plunged into his heart; the other screamed and aimed his shotgun and fired. The pellets missed wildly, but Raphael's long barrel pistol did not. His brains became the latest addition to the portrait that Raphael would be painting this evening.

    At this point she was covered in blood and heard the footsteps as the building began to mobilize. She heard screams and shots beneath her floor. Marcus was making fast work. Her first victim continued to stumble. He made it to the bannister of the stairway, his face turning pale and his body running out of blood. Another gentleman ran up the stairs into view. Raphael kicked the first down the steps and when he crashed into the late arrival, shish kababed the both of them into the wall.

    "This is Jugo. He wants to know where the newest girl is." She stated plainly. Her caramel skin covered in scarlet; the white of her eyes mixed with the monotone of her voice frightened him.

    "I...I....Don't...SHUT UP *****!"

    "Jugo."

    She twisted the blade and spun, launching both of them down the flight of stairs. Two shots from her pistol silenced him. More footsteps. More shouting. It did not matter. Raphael was irritated and when she met her opponents as she descended...

    The stairs became stained red and smelled of iron. She had to watch her step by the time she finally joined Marcus at the bottom floor.

    Everyone around the Shogun was dead. He was untouched but drenched in Gentlemen blood. Raphael tucked Jugo between her legs, scanned the room, while she reloaded her revolver.

    In her typical dry tone, she stated, "I thought we said we wouldn't wear matching outfits anymore."

    A door opened.

    Her revolver raised.

    A body dropped.

    “It is you,” she said. “You’re Marcus Rhodes. The Shogun.”

    Raphael didn't say anything. She lowered her revolver slowly and sighed.

    Tag: @Reynar_Tedros @Ktala @Shadowsun
     
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  20. Reynar_Tedros

    Reynar_Tedros Jedi Grand Master star 6

    Registered:
    Jul 3, 2006
    Marcus Rhodes
    The Wasteland; Gentlemen’s Club

    “And you know me how?” Marcus asked the blonde woman standing there among the incapacitated Gentlemen who’d been holding her captive minutes before, Raaphael joining the Shogun by his side.

    “Don’t be so modest,” the woman replied, pulling a stray hair behind her ear. “You’re famous. I’ve heard the stories.”

    “Well. Don’t believe everything you hear. Anyway, we’re here for-“

    “I know who you’re here for. The Ventura girl, yeah?”

    Marcus cocked an eyebrow. “You know who she is?”

    “I’m a Valkyrie, Marcus. Ideally, I know who everyone is.”

    “A Valkyrie,” Marcus repeated. He’d heard of them before. Valkyries were almost mythical figures in the Wasteland, an order of women who kept to themselves somewhere no one knew. They almost never made themselves known, sometimes hiding in plain sight, and no man was ever welcome among their ranks or in their home, wherever it was, if it even existed. They were said to be cunning warriors, and notoriously well informed despite their reputation of isolation, as silent as their agile footsteps in the night. “Aren’t you a little far from home?” the Shogun asked.

    “I’m here on business,” the Valkyrie said, glancing at the one conscious Gentleman handcuffed to the desk who hadn’t said a word. “A lot of young girls and women have been going missing lately. We traced most of them back here. I allowed myself to be taken in a few months ago, trying to get to the source of all this... ugliness. But when I saw them bring in the Ventura girl today, well, I knew it would all be compromised soon enough. I knew you wouldn’t be far behind, you being so close with the girl’s dad and all, and you kinda have a reputation of sword first, questions later. No offense.”

    “Well.” Marcus looked down at the blood on his shirt and vest, caked under his fingernails. “Sorry to bust up your little operation.”

    The woman shrugged. “Not sure I would’ve been able to hold out long enough to get to the inside, in the City. Months of this... I don’t know how much more I would’ve been able to handle. Every day’s been a struggle to not do what you just did to these pieces of filth.” She sighed. “Oh well. More than one way to skin a cat, I guess. I’m Siobhan, by the way.”

    “Marcus. This is my Daimyo, Raaphael.”

    “Just you two?”

    Marcus looked up at the ceiling, wondering if Kazan was trying to convert some Gentlemen to the Bushido code, or if Treka had found some shiny new object to obsess over. “For now.”

    “‘Kay then.” Siobhan knelt down by the unconscious Gentleman and grabbed the pair of handcuffs hanging from his belt. She fastened one cuff to the man’s hand, and the other to a leg of the cot bolted on the floor, on the other side of the room from the man bound to the desk. She stood up, facing the two Samurai. “Let’s go get your girl then, shall we?”

    Tag: @The Jedi in the Pumas, @Ktala, @Shadowsun
     
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  21. The Jedi in the Pumas

    The Jedi in the Pumas Jedi Grand Master star 4

    Registered:
    Jun 23, 2018
    Raaphael Winsoon
    -The Wasteland, Gentlemen's Club

    The City...

    Raaphael's expression was plain as she could bare, but a slight raise of her right eyebrow betrayed her. What did the Gentlemen have to do with the City? How had their operations spread that far without Raaphael picking up on it? Her mind's gears began turning, attempting to solve the connection to no avail. Her failure to realize the connection to the City, she surmised, was due to her own belief that a only certain type of person at a certain level of wealth and influence would even have interest in the City, yet alone be able to enter and leave. It was her own ignorance and assumptions. Raaphael bit the corner of her lip; just a slight nibble of irritation. Then her face returned to its plain expression as she stepped towards the Valkyrie, revolver swaying by her side. She paused, sizing the woman up in a non-threatening manner before sheathing her gun and kneeling to the Gentleman at her feet.

    "So, you've been here for months watching women be killed, raped, and beaten?" Her tone, despite the subject matter of her sentence, was not accusatory, but more analytical and matter-of-fact. "What is special about the women who were moved from here?" The Gentlemen had a reputation for trafficking women, this was known. But why would they bring women here and then move them elsewhere? Most of the men they had killed were Gentlemen, no customers. If there were some customers, talk about being in the wrong place, wearing the wrong tophat, at the wrong time.

    Raaphael pressed a fist on the jugular of the unconscious Gentleman. He would be dead after a few more seconds of the constant pressure.

    Tag: @Reynar_Tedros
     
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  22. Reynar_Tedros

    Reynar_Tedros Jedi Grand Master star 6

    Registered:
    Jul 3, 2006
    The Wasteland; Gentlemen’s Club

    Siobhan watched the one called Raaphael as the Samurai cut off the unconscious Gentleman’s airflow with her fist and waited patiently for him to die. She could see, just by peering into her eyes for a brief moment and watching her take this life, why her legend grew in the Wasteland on a parallel trajectory to that of her Shogun. The one whose gun spoke death into the air at the behest of its wielder’s vengeful soul. The dark skinned woman who rode beside the silver haired peacekeeper, capable of love and rage of equally unseen depth. The utter lack of emotion as she choked the last glimmer of life from the man on the ground. She was justice incarnate, blind to any opposition of her final verdict. The man’s guilt was evident, his sentence solidified. She was judge, jury, and executioner. Not because she wanted to be. Because she simply was. Or so the Wasteland decreed.

    "So, you've been here for months watching women be killed, raped, and beaten?" Raaphael said to Siobhan in a matter-of-fact tone. "What is special about the women who were moved from here?"

    Siobhan knelt down beside Raaphael while Marcus stood at the door impatiently, keeping an eye on the conscious Gentleman cuffed to the desk, who watched his comrade pass on with an irritatingly blank stare on his mustached face.

    “I’ve been here for months watching women survive,” Siobhan said as the unconscious man became a dead one. “Enduring things no human being should have to, in hopes of seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. Now they have it. Now they can leave this horrible place. Because of you two.” She looked from Marcus back to Raaphael. “The women who get moved to the City meet a certain criteria. Clientele desire certain... features that aren’t met there. So they expanded. Increased the diversity of their supply by establishing themselves out here. They were planning to branch off from here. You guys just pissed off some very rich people on the other side of the fence.” Siobhan stood. “But we’ll cross that bridge if we get to it. For now, we’ve got a little girl to rescue.”

    The blonde woman clad in suggestive black leather moved across the room and knelt down by the conscious Gentleman. “Don’t do anything stupid,” she said as she unlocked the cuffs that bound him, moved his hands away from the desk, and re-restrained his hands behind his back, standing him up to his feet. He was about her height, lightweight and malleable to her strength. She looked back at Raaphael. “Sorry. We need this one alive for now.” She turned her eyes to Marcus, who’d moved aside and cleared the doorway for her. “Follow me.”

    Stepping over dead Gentlemen littered across the floor, Siobhan led the Samurai down the hallway away from the stairs that led to the floors above, one hand holding forcefully the vest of the Gentleman who obediently walked beside her. At the end of the hallway was a small room to the right that seemingly held no purpose at first glance. Paint peeled from its walls and there was a flickering light overhead that illuminated a small frame hanging on the wall containing an abstract painting within, dark colors splattered every which way with no discernible meaning to an untrained eye. Siobhan reached over and tilted the painting to the side, and a small, square piece of the wall moved outward and to the side in response, revealing some sort of sensor that was hidden behind it.

    “Old world tech,” Siobhan told Marcus. She grabbed the Gentleman behind his head and moved his face to the sensor, but he closed his eyes before they could be scanned. Siobhan rolled her eyes. “Seriously? Come on, let’s go, open your eyes.” The Gentleman shook his head in defiance, and Siobhan slapped the back of his head so hard that his forehead hit the wall in front of him. “Open before I cut them out myself.”

    “**** you,” the Gentleman muttered through gritted teeth, and opened his eyes with reluctant obedience. A red laser scanned his left eye down and then up, and a small sound was made to indicate the machine’s satisfaction.

    “Good boy,” Siobhan said, and proceeded to slam the Gentleman’s head into the wall so hard that he crumpled to the ground in an unconscious heap. “**** you, too.”

    Beside the sensor, the sound of clicks and locks could be heard within the wall, where the shape of a doorway could suddenly be seen. Slowly, the once hidden door opened up within the wall, revealing a small, dimly lit hallway within. There was a large, metal door on the other side.

    “The Matriarch is in there,” Siobhan said. “It’s usually just her and her bodyguard, Bruce, unless she has a lady with her. He’s a mute. Personality of a brick wall, but he’s built like one too. Never seen him in action, but I’ve heard some ugly stories. So maybe be careful.”

    Siobhan led the Samurai through the short hallway, and as soon as she reached the door and reached up to knock, it unlocked and opened a small way.

    “You can come in, dears,” the voice of a woman came from the other side. Siobhan looked at Marcus and Raaphael hesitantly before she pushed the door open all the way.

    The first thing one would likely notice upon entering the Matriarch’s den was the large, ornate bed against the back wall. It was carved from an expensive wood, with tall posts at each corner that supported luxurious white curtains that stood out against the crimson red sheets made of silk. It fit in with the rest of the room, lavishly decorated with candles and flowers, a faint aroma filling the air that gave off hints of sex and eucalyptus. Aside from the large computer monitors at the side of the space showing live camera feeds of various rooms and halls in the buildings, most of them containing mustached bodies in various poses of slow decomposition, the most notable presence in the den was that of a woman lying suggestively atop the bed, clad in provocative lingerie and a silk black robe decorated with gold accents.

    “My, my, my,” she spoke with lips painted red and an expression of decadent admiration. “You two are even more beautiful in person.” She sat up on the bed and brought her bare legs over the edge in a smooth, elegant motion, not bothering to conceal any part of her body with her robe. Her eyes looked Raaphael up and down slowly, bringing her fingers to her lips and showing no effort to conceal her apparent arousal at the sight of the Daimyo. “I don’t suppose you’re here to... audition?”

    [​IMG]

    Tag: @The Jedi in the Pumas
     
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  23. Ktala

    Ktala Force Ghost star 6

    Registered:
    Sep 7, 2002
    Treka LaRue (Kiki)
    The assault in the Wastelands

    Treka snorted softly, as they decided to wait till nightfall to attack. So she walked over to DOG, and sat down. She had plenty to keep her busy, until sunset. She made sure to give DOG plenty of water and took a few sips herself. Shogun went into his familiar meditations. Treka packed her 'toys', ready for the battle.

    It was a bit when she heard the Shogun's vice again.

    “Let’s go.”

    He led the way to the edge of the canyon that the headquarters backed up to. There was, conveniently, a sturdy rock protruding from the dirt that would hold the weight of any of them, and Marcus took a rope from Treka’s seemingly boundless inventory and wrapped it around the boulder, knotting it tightly. He took the other end of the rope and walked to the edge of the face, slowly lowering it down where it landed softly on the roof of the building with plenty of slack to spare.

    Shougun looked back at them.

    “Y’all know what to do. I’ve got the ground floor. Cut through whoever you need to to get what information you can. We know the girl’s inside somewhere. The mustaches are expendable. When you’re done, descend one floor until you meet up with each other, then keep going down. We’ll converge on the ground floor and go from there.”

    With that, Marcus grabbed the robe firmly in his hands, planted his feet on the edge of the cliff, and slowly began his descent down onto the roof. Treka watched as the others descended. She looked over at DOG, and then pointed over to the bike. "Guard," she told him.

    When the others went, she shimmed down the rope, her crossbow wrist pistol ready. Once her feet touched the ground, her dagger was in her other hand, as she began to move. She heard a pistol shot. So much for cover.

    Treka's face went neutral. It was killing time. A new personality emerged. and this one knew the song that was being sung.

    Raphael was busy. Her blade was busy, and it did not talk long for the floor to become covered in blood. Treka used her crossbolt pistol. Much more quieter, and could do multiple shots quickly. If she knew how many were around, she would take her time. But now was no time to play. Rescue mission. BUT.. that didnt mean SHE couldn't have any fun. Treka's blade moves almost as fast as her crossbolts. And she had fun snatching the bolts back, after they had done their work. She yanked a chain off of one of the gentlemen.

    She kept following the others and got to the doorway where the Shogun and Raphael was. She stood guard in the hallway. Anyone male not belong to the group, she took down immediately.

    Then Treka heard a female voice. No one she knew. She didnt care. She guarded the hallway. Treka moved closer to the doorway, so she could peek in and see who was doing all the talking. She saw a woman slowly choking one of the men to death.

    Her kind of girl!!!

    As she watched, the woman kept talking. “I’ve been here for months watching women survive,” Siobhan said as the unconscious man became a dead one. “Enduring things no human being should have to, in hopes of seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. Now they have it. Now they can leave this horrible place. Because of you two.” She looked from Marcus back to Raphael. “The women who get moved to the City meet certain criteria. Clientele desire certain... features that aren’t met there. So they expanded. Increased the diversity of their supply by establishing themselves out here. They were planning to branch off from here. You guys just pissed off some very rich people on the other side of the fence.” Siobhan stood. “But we’ll cross that bridge if we get to it. For now, we’ve got a little girl to rescue.”

    She then grabbed a live guard, and started to head out, coming toards Treka. With a slight growl, she backed away, letting the woman, that man, with the Shogun and Raphael following as well.

    When they had reached an area, where the woman revealed an eye scanner, Treka grinned wildly. Oh, she could do wonders with that!!! But she doubted she would be able to snatch it out in time. what also caught her interest was the series of clicks and sounds of locks and something mechanical moving. If they had this type of tech... maybe cameras? At least in this area? The woman knocked the man unconscious after the door had been opened.

    Treka did not like this. She stopped at the area of the eye scanner, trying to decide if she could use her knife to remove it. She also didnt want to go in, with an area with lots of locks, and possibly no other way out. She stared at the unconscious guy. Why leave him alive? She stared at the scanner again. Funny smells began to come from the room. Treka scrunched her nose. She decided to see if she could pry out the scanner. She really wanted that scanner. But she bet that more cool equipment was in the room with the locks. Where the Shogun was.

    Nope.

    Treka found a spot she could stand, watching in any direction. She shot a drug dart into the guy on the floor, just in case he started moving. She rather kill him, but they might need his eye again. And eyes out of a head didnt last too long.

    She stood watch, as she patiently waited.

    TAG: @Shadowsun, @The Jedi in the Pumas, @Reynar_Tedros
     
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