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"They see me rollin', they hatin'....", SlaughterHouse in GW
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Slaughterhouse: Bloody Remains
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"Well, that was...," Santos "JD" Smith started, kicking open the sticky driver's side door to 'Huba Lusayfr,' his twin-CR-sporting Landy. The 'tuned' v6 motor thumped under his hand as he slapped the hood.

"Yeah." Minh "Max" Ramirez chimed in, idling next to him in her dual HGG Landy, the 'Temnayamat.'

"Where is everyone?" said Jeff "Baby" Dickey, sticking his head out the side window of 'Trotziger Engel,' another CR-prickling Landy. "I thought this place was crawling with baddies? How could they pass up this many vehicles and FOUR transport vans?"

"Maybe they didn't know what to make of us?" shrugged Robert "Don't Hurt Me" Pleas, sliding out of the seat harness in his gunner's position on Smith's ride. "I mean, how many crews out there roll as much hardware as we do? We were the only ones in Elms, that's for damn sure."

Smith nodded. "You do have a point there."

He looked out across the jagged expanse of terra-firma that ringed GW. They were lucky they didn't get ambushed at that choke-point they'd had to navigate on the backside of GW. It would make a great killing ground, if they could get used to running it. He reckoned you could only fit 3, maybe 4 vehicles through it at a time. When you're running 16 at a time, that could make things dicey if someone zigged when they shoulda zagged. He stopped his reverie and caught back up with the conversation.

"...me or do those militia guys on the wall still have their fingers on triggers of those big fitties?" speculated Walter "Soze" Kaiser, as he slid out of the driver's seat of the ballistic van 'Khakdbakhagas.' He pointed behind them. Everyone turned to look.

"You ain't imaginin' nothing, Kaiser." chuckled Cameron "Professor" Xavier, standing up in the roof hatch of the paired-HMG gunship 'Hahnklopfer.' "Them boys thar' is twitchier than a rat on a hot plate. They'd just a'soon shoot us as them raiders come 'round here."

A laugh...a nervous laugh, drifted through the emerging and listening SlaughterHouse crew gathering around their parked and idling vehicles.

Santos spoke up: "Don't worry about them. They just need some time to get used to us. They haven't seen our colors before today and all we are to them is an unknown from up North. Might be those painted staked-out skeletons on our bonnets are giving them the wrong impression? Just be cool. They'll settle down."

Murmurs and a few more chuckles issued from the 20 or so SlaughterHouse crew that had dismounted.

"Either that or we'll own us a Truck Stop." Smith quipped.

The entire gathered crew broke out into laughter. Santos saw this unnerved the mounted gunners on the walls of GW even further. He pointed at one nearest: "I think we just made that one shyte himself!"

Rolling guffaws and full-throated laughter ensued. Santos was glad for it. Driving out the Gates the first time in a strange town had been nerve-racking. "Part of leadership," he thought to himself. He climbed the bumper of his Landy and stepped onto the armored bonnet. He could feel the smooth rumble of the Landy's engine under his feet.

He raised his hands. "Alright, enough fking with the locals." A cheer went up, more laughing, some pointing at the militia and more laughter. "Let's get a systems check and weapons check done. I want to go right back out and try something...see if we can't sucker some bad guys in this time."

The crew nodded as one and broke up, slapping each other on the back or clasping a shoulder or hand, acknowledging brotherhood or, maybe, getting in that last goodbye. This was Evan, after all. Tomorrow is promised to no one.

Smith turned around, looking for the diminutive Scout jeep. "ZERO!" he yelled. "ON ME!"

He'd need to discuss a tactic with their Scout. He didn't want any surprises.

::tried the Truce/Gates thing but was chicken#### about getting an ambush so kept my Scout attached, which I normally break off into a split squad to discourage not getting a return. Backfired. With all the bad guys around GW, we slid home without an incident. No money in that. Next time I drop the Scout and cross my fingers.::
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vet wv

Posted Sep 30, 2020, 4:17 pm
Fealty Lost
Slaughterhouse: Bloody Remains
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::fk me. I wrote this great big 'leaving GW' post, for the first time ever failed to 'copy' it before posting and...of course I got a white screen and lost the post. So, anyways, not redoing it (it was good, though) and just saying screw GW, we're going back to Elms. I've lost millions in this little experiment and if I don't get out of here I'll be selling things I've become fond of just to pay everyone.::
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vet wv

Posted Oct 26, 2020, 2:35 pm
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