Thread: Wasteland Blues (Fabulam-Admissarius & Sketchyequine)

Devils Roost was widely considered the most dangerous town east of the spine. It had taken nearly the two hundred years since Dark Day to garner that reputation and the inhabitants were proud of the fact. No one remembered, let alone cared, how, why or exactly when the Great War had devastated the world. Not even the Freezies. Those Pre-Dark humans who had hidden themselves away in various underground Redoubts when the transmutation bombs began to fall. Thats how quickly the world ended. Over time, small pockets of what could be considered civilization began to spring up here and there. Bombed out buildings were repurposed. Crops were grown and harvested again. Mutated offshoots of cows and chickens provided meat but never enough to end the cannibalistic practices of some tribes. Or maybe people just tasted that yummy. The tall lean scavenger known only as Six had no idea if that was the case. And hoped he never would. What he did know from his years of traveling the wasteland was that the majority of the world was just that. Wasteland. Vast dead areas with little to no growth. Land littered with raiders, slavers, mutants, cannibals and deadly as fuck shit holes like Devils Roost. That Six had been summoned to said shit hole by Alistair was of some concern. The gangster was bad news and Six had considered heading west instead answering the summons but the much lower radiation count here in the east appealed to him. Besides the guy had sent messengers not assassins and as far as he knew Six had never crossed the Gangster. Then again he was the last of the Sixers, hence his handle. He wondered for a minute if Zee, Roman or that asshat Hogleg could have fucked with this guy before they were murdered. No. Six knew exactly who had taken out his crew and most of them were dead now. Alistair was an evil slaver bastard but at his core he was a business man. The gangster had a Job for him and Six was going to listen because he not only liked the rad count he needed the work. He would listen to the offer. Accept because nobody said no to Alistair and then decide if he would do the job or head for pastures with no fucking green at all. Six slowly pulled his antique Colt Peacemakers from his holsters and handed them over to the body guard. The burly man patted him down, stopped at his boot and drew from a concealed sheath a small high-tech mono blade. Six shrugged. Hell. I always forget about that fucking thing. You might should give me one more once over. All these cybernetics fuck with the long term memory. He tapped his head. That was mostly a lie. Most of what Six said was a lie. His memory was fine and his body wasnt chock full of cybernetics as rumor might have it. He was enhanced though that grain was one of truth. Six was outfitted with a rare neural-net weave that elevated his speed and quickness. It made him dangerous in a fist fight and the grim fucking reaper with a pair of guns in his hands. Slaver piece of shit or not. Alistair was smart to disarm him. The bodyguard snarled and indeed patted Six down before pushing open the door to the most lavish, decadent room he had ever seen. Everything was all lush furs and rugs, hand crafted furniture, and man-sized Iron cages hanging from hooks. In them slaves in varying states of undress glowed dimly under the strands of colored lights strung in the air. Sixs pokerface was in play. He scanned the room once. In it there were a mixture of slaves and slavers. A few local gang members and at least one other scavenger. Six noticed what could only be a pre-dark Jacuzzi. At least thats what he guessed it was since he had only heard about them. The giant tub of bubbling water contained a pair of men and women. The girls were relaxing, engaged in an overt display of slow, sensual kissing. One of the males was bound and gagged, bent over the edge of the Jacuzzi and being fucked in the ass hard by a guy so muscled up he may have been a mutant. The scan was smooth and quick and when it was done Six set his eyes firmly on Alistairs. Nice place. Six gestured at a naked slave girl who was on all fours serving as a foot stool for the slick haired dark eyed gangster. You decorate yer self? Six asked with a grin that looked genuine. Alistair chuckled. They said you were funny. Six brushed back his shaggy brown hair. He didnt like the slaver even a little bit but he flashed the man a crooked smile nonetheless. I just try to entertain me. His casual gaze moved to a woman with sharp alert eyes. Six gave her a polite nod as he continued to speak. But Im guessin you didnt invite me here so I could practice my comedy routine. Six had managed to move his attention from the woman to Alistair but it was difficult. She was attractive sure but more than that. She seemed familiar. Which might not be a bad thing but in Sixs experience it usually was.