Night is starting to fall, and the grumbling has begun.  Being short on fuel, food, and work, can cause even the most disciplined crew to bitch.  Keeping the crew busy has always been the best way to minimize their grousing, but tonight has the makings of a greater-than-usual bitch session.

The circuitous and indirect ride from Bellevue over the past weeks had been trying.  Several of their number had been lost.  Some from the action of hostile gangers, but more from the weirdness of the greenery - the canopy of trees.  They had gone mad.  Some wandered off, others just went mad and had to be neutralized.

[For those who went mad and became violent, how were they neutralized or put down?  Killed, bound?  Abandoned?  Other?]

Overall, though, they were a good crew.  They did what they were told, and were not inclined to rape and pillage as so many others like them were want to engage in.

From atop the husk of an old, rusted and white delivery van, Rainier can see the streets heading west.  And lights.  Maybe a half mile more and they'd be where the lights were.  A place in old Seattle known as Bell Town.  And, the lights ... they were not oil or kerosene, were they?  Was that ... were they powered by ... electricity?

Glancing back towards The Bloodless Sons, Rainier noted they were laagering up.  It was an old term, one that came from an old man still with the crew.  He was German, wasn't he?  He had an accent.  In any event, he had told Rainier that when they circled their bikes as they did for a perimeter, it was known as a laager.  The term had stuck.  So, they laagered,

"We need fuckin' gas!" Rainier hears from one of the crew.  "These bastards ain't gonna fart us much further without it!"

[Who is speaking?  Is he a troublemaker?  Or loyal, though complaining?  What's his name?]

This was always a concern.  Fuel.  Most their bikes ran on old gasoline or the new-fangled bio-fuel.  But, some required more specialized fuel - and one even used hydrogen cells (fucking VERY rare!).  After so many years, the easy fuel has been plundered, and those refining the bio-fuel demanded a lot for their products.  Rumor was that Bell Town was rich.  Well, that they were civilized, and that was the same thing, right?

"So, how 'bout it, boss?  We gonna get some gas?"

The voice from the laager draws Rainier out of his contemplation.
This message was last updated by the player at 23:48, Sat 06 Aug 2022.

Rainier glanced back at his gang as they manoeuvred their bikes into a laager. A strange term for a circle but then the world was pretty strange. At least he had been told it was, it was all he had ever known.  He recalled the journey so far, reflecting on the  lost and damned that had simply disappeared in the night or on the open road. Worse were the ones that stayed and went madder with every passing hour. Each of them now fed the carrion beasts on the road. A quick slash of his knife and they bled out in minutes. They would forever remain Bloodless Sons.

His melancholy thoughts were shattered by the voice of whispers, so called due to his inability to speak quietly. Whispers was first generation born after the World went to shit, he always spoke truly and at high volume. Rainier put up with him because he was his father best freind and practically his uncle. The second more practical reason was that Rainier found his insights useful, better to be attacked face to face then get a bullet to the back of the head. Whispers dragged the ill sentiment the gang felt into the open, allowing Rainier to deal with it quickly.

"That town has electricity which means they don't burn as much fuel. There should be plenty to go round but we will have to be patient. We made it this far and at great cost. Don't blow your load and get us chased out of another city. I'm looking at you Knacks. "

Several of the bikers began chuckling or shooting annoyed glares at a small framed woman with mousey red hair. She rolled her eyes and spit on the ground in annoyance. She didn't argue back but she kept a hand on her knife.

"The bikes are getting empty so what we are going to do is walk closer then ride them in with plenty of throttle. The Bloodless Sons won't be crawling into a new city like whipped dogs. We rest for a few hours then set off at first light. Keep your weapons close when we ride in. You know the drill. "
This message was last edited by the player at 23:48, Sat 06 Aug 2022.

Knacks offered a salute to the rest of her companions, carefully avoiding offering the salute in Rainier's direction.  Or meeting his eyes.

[What's Knack's position in the group?  Trouble?  Unpredictable?  Vying for leadership?  A lover?  Something else?]

The rest of the group offer their collective agreement in assorted nods, grunts of ascent, a few "aye ayes", and a handful of other mutters of agreement.  More than a couple have their eyes transfixed on the scene ahead of them, a measure of lust contained within.  Whether lust for sex, alcohol, fuel, or a warm bed, Rainier could not be entirely certain.

The group quickly breaks as Rainier's lieutenants bark commands to the others telling them to set up rain shelters for the bikes and THEN for themselves, set the watches, prepare the meal (a pot full of gruel and whatever crap they still have in their collective packs), and prepare to hunker down for the night.

Just as Rainier is preparing to turn away from the vision before him, he catches the sound of ... music?  Yes, music wafting through the air from the lights ahead.

Rainier watched his crew fall into the usual routines and his gaze lingered on Knacks back as she went about whatever task she had been assigned. His gaze was stern and calculating but as he turned away from his gang to face the glowing city in the distance thereas some regret in his thoughts. Knacks had a habit of flipping out at the slightest provocation. Some of the other guys put it down to the her age and small stature that made her act out to keep her place in the gang. Rainier reflected that it may account for part of it but truth be told she always had a short temper even when they were growing up. Her anger was a consuming flame with fuel poured on top, juxtaposing Rainier own icy cold rage. They had been an on and off item when his dad still ran the Black Smoke Beasts. Simpler times and no hard decisions. After the split and his ascension to boss of the Bloodless Sons they simply grew apart. Rainier couldn't afford to let her get away with her more impulsive and chaotic vices and remain boss. She simply didn't like that he could order her around. Few in the gang kept any lasting relationships, except maybe Whispers and Scorch. How the two lieutenants had stayed together with all the fighting and rowing they did was a topic of much speculation. The only way it affected Rainier was in his decision whether to increase the number of lieutenants from 3 to 5. He trusted Whispers but had never been particularly close with Scorch, something about him just didn't sit right with Rainier. He was an old hand however and had proven himself in many bad situations.

Rainier lay back on the top of the van with his legs dangling over the edge. he looked up at the sky as he listened to the music that drifted toward them. it wasn't the guttural singing or heavy percussion music he was used to hearing.It was something.....more. many sounds blended together. he was not certain that he liked it. he heard a scuffling noise as someone climbed the van and he looked over his shoulder to see Gran. Gran couldn't have been more than 5 or 6 years his senior but she had always acted like the groups miserly mother. She had chosen the nickname herself. Other than Whisper she was his most trusted lieutenant, she was calm and comforting but was as stubborn as a mountain when she set her heels in. her 5 man group served as the outriders and scouts for the group. She also was often sent in on diplomatic missions of a sort, more accurately she told settlements to expect another 25 rowdy bikers with itchy trigger fingers. She handed him some gruel and he wolfed it down quickly, racing his taste buds.

"I want you to keep a close eye on Knacks Gran. This city seems more civilised than most, well if this music and electric lighting is any indications. Can't have a repeat of last time, few enough left as it is. Heard any buzzing from the circle? other than the low fuel and low food supplies situation."

Gran settles in next to Rainier on top of the van, her eyes fixed down the long street to the not-too-distant lights.  She spoons a mouthful of gruel from the tin cup she holds in one hand.

"Yeah.  I'll keep an eye on Knacks. Or ... Maybe you can fuck her and shut her up."  She raises a brow towards Rainier and grins. "No one else'll touch her 'cause they think you might still have a thing for her.  That kinda thing can get a girl all high strung."

Her smile continues even as she takes another spoonful of gruel.

She jerks her chin towards the lights.  "The boys'll wanta let loose.  Have a good time.  The kinda thing that can cut our time short in a place with, you know, rules.  If they have light and ..."  she pauses and cocks her head to turn an ear towards the strains of happy music wafting over.  "... fun, they'll have rules."

Gran looks at Rainier.  "We can't keep running, and we can't fight our way into a good place.  We can hide in a shithole, or find some way to make this thing - this place - work."

Rainier smiled and very nearly chuckled at Grans advice on how to deal with Knacks.

"Well if nothing else works it might be worth a shot but i can't afford any distractions right now. As you said, this needs to work. Its not like it was back with the Black Smoke Beasts, we don't have the strength to strong-arm a whole city. This could be good for us Gran, a new start and a stable base of operations. I don't mind them cutting loose a little but we have to keep them on a short leash. If they haven't got the barter then tough shit. Spread the word Gran. If anyone steps out of line then we confiscate their bike. If they still step out of line we strip the bike for parts and distribute them around the bikes that need it most."

The punishment was certainly harsh, plenty would rather die or take there chances in the wastes than have their bike stripped down and taken from them. If you had no bike then you had no respect or status in the gang. in addition you would have to rely on someone else to carry you around. That kind of humiliation stayed with you for a long time and no one would be in a rush to let them forget.

Rainier glance around, making sure no one else was in earshot before speaking quietly to Gran.

"What do they say about me Gran? Do they blame me for the sorry state we are in? Do they wonder if i have lost my fangs?"

Gran sets her cup and spoon down.  She fishes into her right jacket pocket, frowns, and then fishes into her left.  She retrieves a hard heel of an old bread loaf.  With a bit of effort, she tears the piece in half, handing one part to Rainier.

She stares out towards the lights.  "They're tired.  They're hungry.  They need someone to blame.  So far, it's not you.  That might change if we can't make this work."  She waves her hand behind her towards the laager beyond.  "But, that's on them.  If you want to show any fangs, they'll need to be to keep them in line.  People like these her," she nods ahead of them towards the lights, "they'll like peace and niceness.  And trade.  If we got stuff they want, all's the better."

Rainier took the bread and chews at it for a bit. He sits in silence for a while listening to his crew settle down and the sound of the music from the city drift over a she digests the previous conversation. He put the issues with Knacks to the back of his mind and ran through the more pressing issues.

"Thanks for the food Gran. Best get some rest. We want to look our prettiest for these civilised folks don't we?"

He hopped onto the vans hood and then onto the ground. After a routine check of his bike he settled down on a patch of dirt and let himself drift off. Those on watch would wake him before first light and then they would head into the city proper. As rainier saw it the trick would be holding out their hat without looking too desperate. First step would be finding out the lay of the land. once Rainier had his finger on the pulse of the city he could find  a place for them to fit in, providing his crew kept themselves out of too much trouble. ideally he would have sent Grans team in a week or two before the main pack rolled in but resources were too low and tensions to pissy to wait.

Rainier drifted off to the music and a hundred prophetic thoughts running through his head. Just another day in paradise.

The morning comes with a light rain that dissipates early.  The weather is still uncommonly warm for this time of the year.

Gran is already up, dressed, and gnawing on a piece of dried meat - some sort of jerky that they picked up on the way.

"Everyone's getting ready.  Rain wasn't bad. Got some fresh water, though."  She nods towards the tarps and bottles arranged as water collectors.  "Me, Scorch, and Whispers'll tell the boys the rules - lay them down, ya know?"

She looks in the direction of Bell Town.  "You want me to go ahead?  Or, do you want the honors?  Not sure if we all want to roll in there at the same time.  We might set the locals on edge."

Rainier blinked awake and rolled of his mat before puttng his jacket on the back of his bike. He would have to put it on before they entered the city but he wanted to feel a bit of breeze first.

"A good omen perhaps. Yes please do. Make it clear that this isn't a bluff. As for our formation... I will ride in with your crew and three of Whispers. We ride in three waves of 10 and park up together. We will head out first followed by Whispers. Scorch can take the rear guide, that should give him time to square this camp away. We will give Whispers 10 minutes before following.

That should be enough distance that we don't appear threatening and our full force parked up should ensure that no one fucks with us."

Rainier looked over his bike and gave it a quick wiped down. He stroked it gently with a doting paternal smile. His bike was as much part of him as his arms and if he was honest he would rather lose the arms.

“How long till we ready to roll out Gran?“

Gran shrugs looking back at the slowly moving - and loudly complaining - crew.

"Ten to get everyone off their butts and time to piss and shit, another ten to break laager, and five to get into formation."  She shrugs.  "Thirty minutes to be safe and it'll give Scorch time to pick up the shit everyone's forgot."

She finishes off the jerky she'd been gnawing on.  "Weapons secure, then?" she asks, a brow raised.

Gran had a tendency to be a bit more diplomatic than some of Rainier's other lieutenants - especially when it came to new burroughs, towns, collectives, of whatever cluster of people they might come across.  But, if she had an inkling of trouble, she was never afraid to open with a display of force - sheer violence, even - should the situation demand it.

Rainier looked back at his crew and smiled, a small twitch of the lips and a flash of teeth.

He turned back to Gran and replied. "Stow away the big guns. Keep the light arms holstered but close to hand. We don't want to ride in with just our dicks in our hands. Il lead us in but I want you Knacks at my side. We go in loud but slow. I won't have us rushing into a dead end trap."

He began packing up his own gear quickly, finishing with the cover for his bike before walking it onto the road once the laager had broken up.

"Let's keep this professional and calm everyone. Anyone tries shit with us we stand our ground but I don't want to hear any shots unless they fired first got it?"

He mounted the bike and started it up, enjoying the powerful machine beneath him rumbling like far off thunder. He gave a little throttle and revved a few times. No matter how many they performed the same ritual it still sent a thrill through him and his crew always grinned with childlike glee in anticipation of the ride.

"Knacks take the left, Gran the right. Everyone one else fall in behind."

Rainier had to shout over the sound of nearly 30 revving bikes. He took a deep breath and smelled the wet dirt lingering in the air. It brought an odd comfort, a sort of freshness to the air.

He fixed his gaze on the city and pulled away at a burst of speed. His bike bucked like a stallion and was one of the quicker, smoother rides but Grans crew were quick as well. He eased off on the throttle and felt the breeze whip at his hair. He could hear Grans crew rapidly closing the gap behind him. He flashed a grin to Gran and another to Knacks as they approached the city.

The sound of combustion motors thrum through the breaking morning mist - a promise of the continuation of the unseasonably warm weather following behind the early breaking.

Settling into formation, Rainier signals the pack to move, and move they do.  Slow enough to not appear as an invading horde, but fast enough to maneuver should the situation call for it.

The outliers watch their flanks as Gran and Knacks watch the road ahead of them.  Rainier catches Knacks' looking his way a couple of times, but she pulls her gaze away each time, and barks an order - a complaint - at one of her crew each time.

The few blocks are covered in short order and they enter onto a clear street marked with the presence of aged storefronts and large stone and brick buildings.  All are clean - mostly, and many have makeshift signs out front.  Words, pictures, each indicating some ware or service.

"Fuckin' land o' plenty," Knacks mutters with a twinge of awe in her voice.

Strangely - okay, perhaps not so strangely - the handful of people on the street or in front of the buildings melt into the crevices and doorways as the bikes approach.



No one raises a weapon.  Many eyes watch the newcomers from inside of businesses and from second floors windows and holes, with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation.

A small girl stands at the edge of the broken sidewalk to the right of the first intersection, watching the approach of the bikes.  She raises a tentative hand and waves, her expression still staid, perhaps even contemplative.

Gran pulls up next to Rainier.  "Are they really this fucking trusting?"  Her cynical eyes scan the upper floors and rooftops systematically.

Rainier felt proud as they rode in. Impressive was how he liked to think they looked. Rather than dusty travellers squeezing the last drops of fuel to get into the city. He had caught a few Knacks glances during the short journey into the city. Her reaction to being spotted was typical and almost childish yet he found it made him secretly happy. Clearly there was something still there, he just didn't know hot to label it.

Not for the first time he considered Grans advice from the previous night. He shook his head as they entered the populated part of the city and brought his focus back to what was in front of him.

Rainier studies the buildings and signs closely as he passes, trusting the others to be watching for threats he instead looks at the people. Cautious yet not terrified. It was a good start. He responded to Knacks comment quietly. "Yeah, makes the other settlements we passed look like shit. We play our cards right and maybe we can carve out some of this for ourselves. Imagine sleeping in a room with a real roof and a real bed every night".

His mind followed his earlier thread of thought and tied it back to what he had just said. He quickly turned to Gran so he was facing away from Knacks. "Might have hit the jackpot here."

He found it strange to see everything so clean and well put together. He had mostly seen rickity market stalls or people bartering out the back of vehicles. This was entirely different.

He spotted the little girl and waved back with a pleasant smile. A couple of the others followed suit and Gran gave her best motherly smile as they passed.

He flashed a wicked grin to Gran.

"Better than being shot at and makes our task a little easier eh. If maybe a little less fun. I doubt they get much trouble in the streets. Didn't notice much scorch marks or bullet holes on the way in but that don't mean they haven't got a mean side to them. Let's find out how cooperative they are."

Rainier flips the kick stand down and dismounts of the bike and approaches one of the shops.

"Anyone know who to talk to about getting some fuel and somewhere to put our bikes? As you can tell we ain't from these parts but we looking settle here peacefully if we can. The Bloodless Sons won't cause any trouble that wasn't brought to them directly."

Gran nods at Rainier's jackpot comment, her eyes wary, but her expression hopeful.

"Real beds," Gran repeats softly, a dreamy quality to the expression.  She nods towards the roof of one of the buildings where a pair of large tubs stand - the type that collect water.  "Tubes.  Pipes and shit."  She looks to Rainier with her eyes a bit bug-eyed.  "Ya think they've got showers?"



As Rainier sets down his kickstand and steps off the bike, a man exits the shop he parks in front of.  The A-frame sign set on the raised walk in front of the doorway has a decent drawing of a jacket and pants, and the wares inside the double doors are displayed on racks and hangars with jackets, pants, and even hats.

The man has a large, long sleeve, white turtleneck that appears to be made from thick wool.  He has his hands clasped gently in front of him, but his posture and his eyes clearly indicate that he is wary - and, perhaps, even capable of harm.

The man nods slowly towards rainier as he listens to the question.  "That depends.  You looking to trade?  Or, to take?"

There is a sharp bite in pronunciation of each of the T's, a hint of ire.  The man might be cautious, but he does not appear to be afraid.  Bravado?  Or, backup?

From the corner of his eye, Rainier notes that both Knacks and Gran are holding their left hands inconspicuously at their waists with a signal indicating that there are no weapons directed their way.  Yet.

"I would be surprised if there arn't a few about. Don't know how many though. If we are here for a while I'm sure we can sort something out eh."

Rainier looked the man up and down with a calculating look before smiling broadly.

"Trade of course. We aren't looking for trouble and there won't be any unless it's brought to us first. I understand the concerns folk around here might have but we are looking to settle in these parts if we can and I'd rather not start things out with a shootout. Who do I need to speak to about setting up shop here?"

Rainier stood relaxed and awaited a reply as he continued glancing at the others watching from the shops and windows. There wasn't much he could do if they shot him down. The thought of the carnage the Bloodless Sons would unleash in response was a small comfort.

He shakes his head.  "No trouble'll be brought from us 'less you bring it."  The man scans the crew for a few moments before returning his attention to Rainier.

"Bell Town's got two rules: Do no harm, and do not take what's not yours."  With a jerk of his head, he adds, "If you want to set up here, talk to the mayor.  The mayor's a block down to the left.  Look for the Red Lobster.  Across the street's the mayor's office.  Digger Fine.  He wears a medal around his neck."  The man's lip curls in slight amusement at that.

Eyes still peer out of windows and cervices, at the newcomers, but so far no obvious weapons.

Gran joins Rainier, casually removing leather gloves one finger at a time.  "So, you guys got showers here?  With running water?  Warm water?"

The man nods slightly.  "Sure.  Warm enough most days.  Even got us a bath house.  Bath house'll cost you, though."

Rainier's not sure, but he thinks he can hear a slight whimper of joy leech out from deep within Gran's chest.

Rainier nods the the man and turns back to his bike, patting Gran on the shoulder as he passes.

"Soon Gran, we got business to take care of first, then you can spend all day in the bath houses if you want. I'm sure we could all do with a good wash."

He hopped back on the bike and waited For Gran to return before setting off at a slow pace and crawling down down the block.

He spotted the red lobster building and was. A little puzzled by what a lobster actually was. If pressed to answer he might say some kind of throwing weapon. He parked up and headed to the office as indicated.

"Gran, with me. Rest of you sit tight and keep your eyes peeled."

He didn't say anything directly to Knacks but shot her a warning look. He wouldn't call out any of his own in front of outsiders unless they really fucked up.

He called out as he approached.

" I'm looking for the mayor of this town. I hear he's the one to to talk about setting up shop in this place?"