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Open Road Trip

Discussion in 'In-Character Forums' started by Dashmiel, Oct 20, 2018.

  1. Dashmiel

    Dashmiel Bearly In Charge Staff Member Administrator Chronicles of the Omniverse GM

    The morning was young enough that the sun’s pale rays still struggled to banish the wispy fog that always seemed to pool around Lutetian early mornings as Ragenard drove up to the warehouse at the abandoned tracks. Who he procured the oversized camper trailer attached to the dingy pickup from, and how he was in so early were questions that there was no one around to ask yet, for he had arrived several hours earlier than the expected pack members.

    Once again the twin boons of the curse of Ragenard’s diminished need for sleep borne from the unholy sources within, and the connections of a misspent youth, were bearing fruit.

    He parked the dubiously acquired vehicle on the side of the warehouse, partly screened from casual view of the street and got out.

    He spent half an hour going over the place, making sure the preparations he had commanded had started to get underway the day before. Afterwards, he walked up into the camper and after rummaging for a bit walked back out with a collapsible beach chair and a beer. Sat down with alcohol in hand, he pulled out a cigarette and settled in to wait.
  2. Tiko

    Tiko Demon Goat Staff Member Administrator Chronicles of the Omniverse GM

    The sound of Draaven's bike was the first to interrupt Ragenard's solitude before it veered off the empty road to pull up alongside the camper. Letting the engine die, he dismounted and moved to untie a thick roll from the back of the bike. Whatever was inside it proved heavy as he it hit the ground with a loud thunk when he dropped it. With one foot he pushed it to roll open.

    "Some stuff for the road," he said.

    Inside the roll had been sewn various pouches and straps to keep a wide selection of tools and blades ranging from pocket knives to military grade combat knives.

    "I didn't bring a whole lot back with me from overseas," he explained. "Just that and the shotgun."

    The shotgun in question remained holstered to the side of his bike.

    Draaven withdrew a pack of cigarettes from his own pocket. "You know, here I thought I was done traveling and I'm home what, two days? And you've got me heading off to Iveria?" he asked with a chuckle while he fished out his lighter. "Imagine it'll give you time to get me up to speed on everything I missed while I was gone," he added after he lit up the cigarette. "Last I heard any news was that Valérie had split ways. The Nomads now, right?" he asked. "I probably should have come back sooner."
    Last edited: Oct 21, 2018
  3. Faithy

    Faithy Stabby-Stab-Stab! Benefactor

    Wishing she could block out all thoughts while sleeping, Aimee found herself up earlier than expected in the morning thanks to the whirling series of nightmares that plagued her. Grunting, she finished packing up what she thought she might need before jumping into the shower. It wasn’t long before she was completely dressed with both her injuries rebandaged. Leaving her roommate a quick note, the teenager grabbed her gun and slid it into the special place in her metallic blue jacket and went as far to shove a second one gun into her black knee high boots. Grabbing her camping backpack, she headed out of the apartment, pausing to lock the door behind her. Thankfully she had procured a beat up Bug and tossed her pack into the backseat before sliding into the front seat. Starting the beast up, Aimee exhaled deeply and headed out.

    “This better not be a fucking trap.” Muttering to herself, she ran her fingers through her wet black hair, shoving the strands out of her Prussian blue eyes so that she could see properly despite how tired she felt. She knew there was no way in hell she could fight back against Ragenard if he decided to take his irritation concerning the betrayal of her father out on her, but she wasn’t going to just roll over and let him kill her.

    “Dad, you are such a fucking …” Unable to finish her thought, Aimee turned the corner and found a place to park her borrowed car. It was hidden out of view and she reached into the backseat and pulled out her pack. Jogging to where they were to meet, she spotted Ragenard and Draaven and just slowly approached them.

    “Hey.” She managed, waving a bit while feeling her shoulders tightening up in preparation of an attack.
  4. Dashmiel

    Dashmiel Bearly In Charge Staff Member Administrator Chronicles of the Omniverse GM

    Ragenard nodded appreciatively whilst sipping his beer as Draaven's pack hit the floor with a satisfying clank. He'd forgotten during the more peaceful times; he'd forgotten how good it felt to have people stand by you who didn't ask any questions, just came loaded for bear thick or thin.

    He looked over Draaven's collection as the man's remarks registered.

    "Yeah, Nomad's is what they are now. Part of me wish it hadn't come to that," he said ruefully. "Bitch might be the only person I know who's more full of themselves than I am, but you wouldn't catch me dead claiming Val can't back it up." Ragenard quaffed the rest of his beer before continuing, "Still, I had to stand by my brother. Wasn't a world where that wouldn't be true, and there were some good times in those 8 years."

    He stood up and stretched a bit to work out a kink, before leaning closer to Draaven's pack of knives. "Any of these pure iron," he said distractedly, giving them a sniff. Of course, he couldn't expect them to be. His sword would have to be enough, and with luck no one in the pack would have to deal with that side of Iveria on this trip.

    "You're right about us having a lot to talk though," he said as the stood back up. "Grab the shottie, and park the bike in the warehouse. You'll hate me a little bit, but you're riding with me in the cab of this piece of shit," he exclaimed as he pounded the rusty sides of the pickup truck the camper was attached to.

    "We're all gonna be traveling together on the same vehicle, incognito. Just another bunch of hick Lutetian tourists, off to enjoy the nature trails of green Iveria the home of the," he trailed off as he heard hurried footsteps approaching in the near distance. Not quite in view yet, whoever it was, he could almost swear he hard indecision in their gait. Something not quite even anyhow.

    A tight smile made it's way to his face, and he was just preparing to pull out a knife from Draaven's still open pack when the wind shifted, carrying Aimee's scent scant seconds before her form came into view. He tried to inconspicuously relax his countenance as she slowly approached.

    He'd been right, he could practically smell the anxiety in her sweat and the tension in her shoulders was evident. Funny, he'd likely not notice something like that before, even as early as a couple of days before. He didn't subscribe much to the "alpha" wolf mumbo jumbo, but maybe there was something to it, even if subconsciously.

    Either that or the weight he'd placed on himself was causing it to act up weirdly. He'd hope for the former. A nice and uneventful trip without any of that would be very nice.

    "Hey Aimee," he called out, slight bit of mental effort clicking in his brain as he willfully avoided the pup moniker. "Come on up. There's beer and water in the camper, you can ask that Eliza chick to point them out, she's in there," he said amicably. He had no doubts that her father's betrayal weighed heavily on her, and he figured she probably felt her place in the pack was now in question.

    Sadly, he doubted his new fledgling sense of his pack-mates was grown advanced enough to allow him to magically pull the right words to say out of his ass. Oh well, hopefully she'd see the point of her inclusion in this outing on her own.

    "Did you park out of view?" he asked.
    Last edited: Oct 23, 2018
  5. Tiko

    Tiko Demon Goat Staff Member Administrator Chronicles of the Omniverse GM

    The peculiar question about iron went unanswered by Draaven as it got forgotten with the abrupt shift of the conversation and the arrival of Aimee.

    "Sounds good to me," he replied to Ragenard. "I'm going to go take a piss while I'm at it. I'll be back shortly," he said as he began to roll his bike towards the warehouse.

    "Hey kid," he said as he passed Aimee.
  6. Faithy

    Faithy Stabby-Stab-Stab! Benefactor

    There were a million things rampaging through her mind at that moment, mostly visions of her ending just like her father. If she were in the position that Ragenard was in, would she allow the offspring of a traitor live? It seemed foolish to allow her to keep breathing, but more so that he was taking on her a trip. No, this was a trap and she was going to be demolished into a pile of goop once they were away from anyone that might want her to live. Never before did she question where she stood in the pack, mostly because she trusted her father to keep her safe. Now, there was that impending doom and it was making her sick to her stomach. If she was going to be killed, she wished he would just get on with it.

    “Probably not wise of me to start drinking beer… yenno, since I’m trying to not be an alcoholic ‘n all.” Sure, she wanted a beer, but she had to be on her guard and that meant a clear mind. The whiskey from earlier was almost completely out of her system, so she was good on that front. “Water is good though, thanks.” Smiling faintly, she stepped forward closer to the camper, trying to remember who the hell Eliza happened to be.

    “Oh, hiya… Draaven, right?” Waving a hand towards the male that had accompanied them when they went searching for Jacques, she adjusted her pack before finally moving over to the camper, pausing at the door to glance at Ragenard.

    “Mmmhmm, yep. It’s nice and cozy in its special hiding place.” With that, she stepped up into the camper and tossed her pack to a corner before peering over at the strange female. “Water?” She questioned, her body automatically shifting so that she could see all of the potential attacking spots. Maybe she was going to be killed too and they were both lured into the camper unknowingly and Ragenard was going to make it explode or something. That thought brought a slight shiver down her spine, especially when she remembered what had happened at the were house the other day.

    “Nope.” Stepping back out, she shuddered and moved off to the side, trying to keep from throwing up as the visions of her father’s remains came to the forefront of her brain.
  7. Script

    Script Adorable Homewrecker Staff Member Moderator Chronicles of the Omniverse GM Benefactor

    The sound of a humming bike engine along with the tinny beat of loud music coming through headphones heralded the arrival of another of the pack, just as Aimee was stepping back out of the camper. Snow flicked his hood down as he rolled up to the group, taking the headphones with it to settle around his neck, still blasting heavy guitars and drumbeats. "Hey," he gave a nod first to Ragenard, then to Aimee, slinging a duffel bag from his shoulder that hit the ground with a telltale clink of bottles. "Wasn't sure how much was too much, so I've got my 12-gauge and a nine, plus ammo and booze."

    He gave a dubious glance across at the trailer, then looked back to Ragenard with a scowl that was at least half-joking. "Tell me that's not here for the reason I think it is. You gone hick on us since Desmond's buddies showed up or something? We trailer trash now?"
  8. Scrimshaw

    Scrimshaw New Member

    "Did somebody call for 'trailer trash'?"

    Nadel's arrival was highlighted by the expression of pure smugness on her face; in prison, there hadn't been nearly enough opportunities for comedic timing such as this. She took in the faces she could see, and placed an imaginary check next to the one she recognized, Ragenard's. She seemed to have missed Draaven is his return of his bike to the warehouse. She intended to greet Rage outright, but the roll of shiny and sharpened objects on full display in front stole her attention instead.

    "Hoooooooly fucking shit, would you look at all of that!" A delighted bubble of laughter rose to the surface of her waters as she pointed enthusiastically at it all. Her own arsenal was modest in comparison, considering she had been back on the outside for less than twenty-four hours, but she had the handgun Ragenard had provided her with the night prior, as well as the two additional guns that she had requested from him upon hearing about Papa Mac. "I'm starting to feel a little better about this job now, Rage, seein' alla that."

    She didn't bother making introductions to the ones she didn't know, partially out of knowing that they'd be made for her, and partially out of the lack of desire to socialize. Due to her ignorance of any of the established relationships between those present, she was oblivious to any tension or anxiety being felt at the time.
    Last edited: Nov 10, 2018 at 11:10 AM
  9. Tiko

    Tiko Demon Goat Staff Member Administrator Chronicles of the Omniverse GM

    Eliza was seated at a tiny table inside the camper that was designed to be collapsed and folded out into a small cot to save on space in the cramped quarters. Atop the table where strewn the parts of a disassembled gun that she had been working on cleaning and oiling when Aimee entered. She didn't look up at Aimee's inquiry, simply responding with "minifridge." Before she had even finished the word though, Aimee was already moving to one side looking a bit worse for the wear. It was enough to draw Eliza's eyes up to glance at the girl.

    "If you're going to upchuck, try to do it outside?" she asked.

    She was already less than happy about this impromptu road trip with a bunch of strangers, and the last thing she wanted to endure was the stench of vomit the whole way.

    Meanwhile outside Draaven was rejoining the group, and a smile cracked across his face at the sight of another familiar face.

    "Well, look who the cat dragged in," he remarked. "Heard you were getting out soon. Though from the look of it your accommodations probably won't be improving for a bit," he added with a cracked grin at the camper that had to somehow accommodate a group of six. "Ragenard's idea."

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