Thread: War of the Wastes (Red/Riccros)

The sun was sinking on the horizon, the sky turning an awkward mix of purple orange and red. But even with the setting sun it didn't deminish the heat much, not until it was completely out of sight. For now it was still hot enough to make a person drip with sweat. The left over heat of the cooling down day was still rising up and distorting the horizon along with the smell of unbathed bodies and blood. It was a rough life on the road but it was better out here than the place this small caravan had come from. The caravan consisted of a tanker hauling fuel enough for all their vehicles three times over, four jerry-rigged cars fitted with any assortment of weapons, or gear for hauling water, another hot commodity, and then they had three motorcycles. It was just a small group, nothing special unless you stop to consider them running off from one of the most notorious gangs out here in the waste lands. It was a risky decision, but a good one, in their opinions anyway. However, one small woman had a serious issue with their current leader's present decision to stop for the night. She was the mechanic, a famed one at that. Known for being able to fix... or disassemble... just about anything. But she didn't always have that job. It's one she takes great pride in, and one very few women ever get the chance to get. Out here in the dying world, men are the ones that survive. They are stronger, hardier, they were naturally more volatile and aggressive, more fit to survive in a dying world. Women... not so much. Women became much like property. Things to be forced into breeding and entertainment. But this mechanic had other ideas... When she was first taken and thrown in a room to be raped by a dozen men, all the men ended up dead at her feet, the room and woman covered in blood. The only thing that wasn't red was her almost unnaturally blue eyes. It was how she got her name, Bloodbath Blue, and all the respect she needed to get out of the whore house. Blue wasn't her real name but it was the only one anyone knew her by now. Her long pale blonde hair grew paler ever day, bleached lighter by the sun. Tied back in a braid it hung just above her waist. She was a small woman, only gracing five foot, a little more with the thick soled boots she normally wore under the baggy cargo pants that held all her supplies. A tight vest was a snug fit over her chest but she didn't like sleeves instead just opting for thick gloves while she worked. A rolled up bandanna covered her forehead and goggles hardly ever left her neck. She was an attractive woman, even without the courtesy of being one of the few around. But she held her own, and her nick name still stood, she was an asset not only as a mechanic but also as a fighter when it came to raids and attacks. Once the caravan had stopped, she ditched her bike and climbed up onto the engine block of their tanker. When the hood was open she started cussing under her breath. What's the verdict Bloodbath? A tall man asked from the dirt beside the wheel beneath her. The woman ignored him and kept at her task, reaching into one of her many pockets for some type of impliment to use in her task. Leaning further into the engine she clicked and banged away on something. Answer me Bloodbath! A wrench the size of his forearm smacked him in the chest. How's that for an answer. she mumbled before sitting back and facing him, hand extended for the tool. The man obediently handed her the tool back. I told you to stop calling me that. Sorry. He spat the word out, clearly not happy. So, how's she doing? Can we make it to the valley tomorrow? Blue frowned. We could have made it tonight if you wouldn't have pushed so damn hard and busted the belt. I only have so many. She grumbled as sweat dripped down the slope of her chest and disappeared beneath her vest. When i stole parts from all the vehicles we left behind at Hector's I could only carry so much... Suddenly something glinted and flashed in her eye. Shutting the hood, Blue stood up on top of it and looked out in the direction as she pulled off her goggles. Shit. The word fell from her cracked lips. What is it? It's the ManSlayer. Blue looked down at him from her post on the top of the truck. Murphy, we aren't ready for this. Murphy whistled. Everyone! Gear up! We've got company! Blue jumped down from the hood of the truck and dashed over to where her bike sat alone. yanking her firearm from its holster on the side she made sure it was loaded and mounted her ride. The Manslayer and Hector's gang's had never gotten along. they had always gone at it, fought for territory, fought for supplies and resources. Even though this small Caravan had technically left Hector, the Manslayer wouldn't know that. After starting up her bike, Blue circled their small camp and tried to get herself into a better position. They were severely outnumbered.