"We best be moving on, unless one of us should stay here on this side of the ruined lands as a fall-back position?"
"Word."
<As per usual, Coca keeps his eyes open for voluptuous young females, and as soon as he spots a target, his (new) trademark saying:
"Snipah!"
The group takes some time to relax in Cheapside. There are good facilities here, and there are a lot of travellers on their way to points further East and South. The Grens don't interact much, they feel uncomfortable around any collection of metal or plastic. They have wicked obsidian-tipped arrows and ceramic swords that are purchasable, but little else by way of munitions.
Coca finds plenty of company in the female refugee population. His bad boy demeanor and obvious toughness goes a long way.
Billy Ray unexpectedly also finds love. A girl that runs a mercantile starts seeing him, and the two are quite inseperable. It helps that the girl is Billy Ray's size, and bright blue. Sally Mae is a sweet girl, despite her ability to bend metal in her fists, and Billy Ray dotes on her.
The crew heals up, shines up the weapons and prepares for the Ruined Lands flanking the wild Netticut River.
Sherman sits on the porch, a fat rolled up joint grasped in his thick stubby fingers, the smoke rolling away scenting the air. His pale green carapace glinting in the sunlight is a contrast against the deep dull brown of the leather armour that covers his torso and extremities. Two bright blue eyes survey the passing crowd from under a large woollen hat, in black, green yellow and gold, which sits atop a cascade of thick dreadlocks. Beside him stands Marley, a 3 foot potted plant, a member of the Cannabis sativa species. "Marley I breden, I ya dat some people are gatherin' de righteous fe cuss-cuss di forces of babylon and I a wonderin' if dey need a dreadlock warrior?" Sherman asks the plant, he cocks his head to the side as the plant gives it's opinion. "Yes I know it will be alias, but de forces of babylon are goin' fe cumyu anyway and someone has got fe sticj it fe dem." A slight breeze wafts through the town, rustling Marley's branches, "Don't the I be shakin' your head at I and causin' a fuss, I have made up I mind and I am goin' fe laba-laba with dem fe aks fe join." With his mind made up to see if he can join these warriors in their fight against the wreckers, Sherman stands and picks up Marley, carefully attaching him into a custom made satchel on his broad back. The two make a strange couple the squat crab like mutant carrying his plant advisor.
"I think I will like this guy."
Chiro wonders how creeper will react to the potted plant.....mmmm.
"Greet."
The four armed crab man approaches Cocaman and holds out his top right arm, with the fist closed. "Touch i i-dren, I ya dat the i are gatherin' forces fe cuss-cuss de wreckers and i and marley want fe join forces with the i." he asks, giving a look of genuine happiness at you while blowing out a steady stream of smoke.
After touching knuckles with Coca Cola, "I name is Sherman and I ya dat the i are a bad bwoy."
Indicating his four guns he continues speaking, his voice drawn out and lazy "I kyan shoot pretty well and I will take de cuss-cuss against de babylon."
"Smoke?" he inquires offering out a sizeable carrot shaped cigar.
"Ennn. I'll pass on de wacky weed. I gettin enough standin nearby aready."
<Pulls out a cheroot.>
"And yeh. We sum wreckah gravediggahs looking to align some forces. Is it written on my back or sumtin?"
<Suspicious glance.>
"Heading Nu Ork way now, though, looking for BIG forces. Den back te the front."
Roach stares at the odd crab-man for the longest time. "Ah, yes, I'll have a puff or two. Thank you, sah." He draws in a long pull, before leaning back and blowing a series of smoke rings. "Good stuff. And, yeah, what he said." He nods at Coca.
SNIPAH!
"And yeh. We sum wreckah gravediggahs looking to align some forces. Is it written on my back or sumtin?"
<Suspicious glance.>
Sherman nods approvingly before addressing Cocoman's concerns, "Don't be worryin' I heard bad din's from refuges and your bredren Billy-Ray, de bandulu no be spying on the i," his tone leaves you in no doubt that the bad things he heard were good things about your exploits and the bandulu must be yet another word for the Wreckers.
Roach stares at the odd crab-man for the longest time. "Ah, yes, I'll have a puff or two. Thank you, sah." He draws in a long pull, before leaning back and blowing a series of smoke rings. "Good stuff. And, yeah, what he said." He nods at Coca.
Sherman smiles at the Roach and blows his own smoke rings, "Good times i-dren, bad times, Marley be growin' de corn himself, he tells i his family were renown for it," he points a stubby finger at potted plant next to him.
"Yous natterin' fit wicked, crabby. So wasup a wiv de tree, brutha?"
"Yous natterin' fit wicked, crabby. So wasup a wiv de tree, brutha?"
"Marley? Was de first person I met after I walked from Jamaica, i just sort of hooked up and she is crucial company." he smiles proudly at his companion, the plant just stands still and, well, plant like. Sherman tips his head to one side as if listening to the plant, he smiles and laughs, "Marley tells i dat the Cocoman be a BAD BWAI but the i better no be tryin' it on with her, as she is wise fe you."
"Aiii. Coca Cola iz east side down an' ard snipah. Long ranga. So yous iz from Jamaica. Dat's da long motherf%*!in walk, you knows it."
"Hmmm, *snif* smells like that time my Creeper here got tangled up with some wild plants. Took a week to prune it down afterward, and the locals insisted on burning the leaf cuttings. Called it loco or something."
Chiro checks on Creeper to make sure it doesn't decide to mix plant types again. Dumb as a horse it is.
"Good to meet you, can always use more firepower in bad country. How do you afford the ammo for four guns? Whew!"
"Aiii. Coca Cola iz east side down an' ard snipah. Long ranga. So yous iz from Jamaica. Dat's da long motherf~**in walk, you knows it."
"Aye braa, it is a righteous tall walk, some weird thin's on de batty of de sea, I be tellin' the i."
"Good to meet you, can always use more firepower in bad country. How do you afford the ammo for four guns? Whew!"
"Touch i, it is bad fe buck up the i Mr Chiro," he offers his closed fist to Chiro to touch with his fist in way of greeting. Sherman then sadly taps his gun belt loaded with some spare ammo clips, "I used fe be a blackheart i-dren back in Jamaica, I have no had fe use i guns since arrivin' yahso."
Germain:
As she finally got into more human-descended mutant lands, there were still rarely a Pure Strain Human to be found. Those she found were not breeding material. She has been in Cheapside, quietly observing the Wrecker refugees from the Albnee Confederacy as they flow over the area, trying to get a sense of the force beyond the Appalachee Mountains. There are no Pure Strain Human refugees, as they would have stayed with the Wreckers, willingly or no. According to rumors the refugees whispered, the Wreckers had some of same problems that Germain's society did, with few 'pure' human bloodlines left.
She was just comtemplating whether she should hold fast, move towards the Appalachee Mountains or south down the Neticut when a hard-looking band of mutant mercenaries rolls into town. Although not breedstock, they looked capable, and Germain overhears them talking about Wreckers and moving south. Perhaps they are headed her way ....
Germain casts a small shadow as walks the streets of Cheapside but the tiny shadow she does cast is dark and menacing. To look at her most wouldn't see her as a threat: she's small, friendly looking, and cute as a button. She wears a warm inviting sheep skin smile, her largish doe eyes scan the refuges like a butcher eying prize beef, and her practiced skip hides her warrior gait. The tiny woman is stalking the streets, she's not hunting for one target but a whole mercenary team, but she won't need her weapons for this hunt . . . not yet anyways. Rumor was this group was set to go into Wrecker territory and that was somewhere Germain desperately wanted to go.
Talking her way into this group would be a cinch, they were said to be mainly made up of men after all, but finding this group amongst the strange and dangerous mutants of Cheapside would be her first real hurdle.
"Snipaaaah! Checkit, Roach."
"Dude." Roach gives the girl an appraising look. "She's like, what, fourteen? Give it a rest. Prolly some local herbalist's assistant or somethin' like that. Them's people who are good to know - and to not mess with."
Germain's smile widened. Refugees were tired and down trodden. Locals as a rule weren't friendly. Vagrants knew better then to make cat calls at young women in dangerous times. These were likely the mercenaries she was looking for . . . either that or town workers, and seeing as they didn't seem to be leaning on shovels they were probably mercenaries.
Germain, out of practice, quickly assesses the two. The larger of the two looked human, but wasn't a particularly attractive looking piece of meat. He was weather beaten and tough. Not prime stock and likely tough chew no matter how long he was left to stew. The second looked leaner, softer, and more succulent. He clearly fancied himself a ladies man, and there was a certain biological attraction there, if he wasn't one of the mercenaries she was looking for getting him undressed would be a easy. If he proved to be human he would be a very easy capture.
"Hi Ya," Germain says as she skips over to the strange men, "my name is Germain and I'm new in town. What are your names?"
"Dude." Roach gives the girl an appraising look. "She's like, what, fourteen? ..."
"I'z callin 15 on dis one. Yo Sherman yous dig peeps?"
"Chek, she's comin ova. Cocaman's magnetism iz callin ha."
<Leans on his rifle>
"Hi Ya," Germain says as she skips over to the strange men, "my name is Germain and I'm new in town. What are your names?"
"Sup, chickie. I'z Coca Cola. Man, not de archeological beverage, an' dees here be mah friends: Sherman, Eva, Roach, and Chiro. We hadda big blue buddy but e's gone a stylin'. Dis here is Nixon."
<Pats the rifle. Points to the plant.>
"Marley, the plant. Yo Sherman, mebbe de girl wans a spliff..."
"hey dere pretty dawta," Sherman calls out to the young girl, "would the i want fe suck on dis?" he offers out his big "camberwell carrot" while smiling broadly.
Chiro will finish settling his gear and wander over to check out the activity, thinking at worst he can hear some more of Coca's horrible (but effective) banter.
"Greetings fem, I am Chiro."
He then gives his patented toothy grin. That always makes the wingless crippled groundlings stop and stare.
<Leans on his rifle>
Militia? Germain suddenly wonders
"Sup, chickie. I'z Coca Cola. Man, not de archeological beverage, an' dees here be mah friends: Sherman, Eva, Roach, and Chiro. We hadda big blue buddy but e's gone a stylin'. Dis here is Nixon."
<Pats the rifle. Points to the plant.>
"Marley, the plant. Yo Sherman, mebbe de girl wans a spliff..."
"Pleased ta meet ya!" Germain chirps.
"hey dere pretty dawta," Sherman calls out to the young girl, "would the i want fe suck on dis?" he offers out his big "camberwell carrot" while smiling broadly.
"Um, I better not," Germain says, making herself look worried, and perhaps, slightly scared, "my mommy warned me about taking drugs from strangers."
He's obviously not human, Germain thinks, but he could be useful. People who abuse marijuana were easy to manipulate and remarkably passive. Perhaps he could be manipulated into helping in capturing men. Those extra arms could come in handy
Chiro will finish settling his gear and wander over to check out the activity, thinking at worst he can hear some more of Coca's horrible (but effective) banter.
"Greetings fem, I am Chiro."
He then gives his patented toothy grin. That always makes the wingless crippled groundlings stop and stare.
"Pleased ta meet ya Chiro!" Germain says, her own smile was absolutely beaming. Healthy white teeth were likely a rarity in this cruel despotic world.
A flier would be useful as well, Germain thinks, A proper scout is something I desperately need.
"Maybe you guys can help me," Germain say playing with the dirt with her foot, "see I'm looking for this group of tough strong mercenaries everyone is talking about. See I need to find them. I'm going into wrecker territory and I'm only widdle, so I need some big strong mercenaries ta help me, and I heard that they're da only ones brave enough to face deez mean old wreckers. Besides I hear they're going my way anyways!"
"Howzit." Roach nods at the little girl. "We ain't goin' into Wrecker lands quite yet, we're doin' a detour through Nu Ork first. Whydya need to go to them Wreckers, anyways?"
He gets up and wanders over to the newcomer, sniffing the air around her. "You seem like a pure strain, little girl. Them Wreckers will like you. You not thinkin' about joining them, are you?"
"Howzit." Roach nods at the little girl. "We ain't goin' into Wrecker lands quite yet, we're doin' a detour through Nu Ork first. Whydya need to go to them Wreckers, anyways?"
He gets up and wanders over to the newcomer, sniffing the air around her. "You seem like a pure strain, little girl. Them Wreckers will like you. You not thinkin' about joining them, are you?"
Germain's eyes go wide.
"You're the mercenaries?" Germain asks, "Wow you're even more impressive then I imagined!"
Germain laughs at Roach's comments.
"You can't tell if someone is pure strain by just sniffing silly!" Germain says, "if that were possible it would make my job so much simpler! Although I bet you could tell a lot about a person from just olfactory senses. Certainly serious changes to a person's DNA but the subtle ones are really hard to detect . . . without samples. I got a machine though.
"Oh, did you say Nu Ork?! I've never been there! I sure would like to see that. I like exploring. One time I found this really old village up in the hills but there was nobody living there. A ghost town! It was kinda scary, only not really, ghosts don't bite, but whatever drove all those people away might have still been there . . . like radiation or biological stuff . . . like plagues. But I got home and no ill effects. I got a full check up just to be sure though. That was a couple of years ago so I think I'm in the clear <cough> Just kidding! No I'm fine! But traveling is always better in groups don't cha think?
"Say you guys got a tracker or a medic?"
"We could use a medic." Roach plops down again next to Chiro. "Up to y'all."
<Raises his eyebrows.>
"Dis iz just da little too much in one day, Roach, Eva? Now we nah Chiro iz bling. Sherman iz too roasted to be da spy, but chek at ha. Nobody fe real talks dat kine-a nattah."
"Sherman iz too roasted to be da spy"
"Seen, bredda!" Sherman nods his agreement while grinning goofily, "Do the i dink de dawta is a samfai man?
"Nah. I just suspect she's an underage thrill-seeker, and I don't want her dad chasin' us down and puttin' our heads on a stake somewhere. I like my head right where it is."