[center][img] https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/765582ae-ee02-4dc4-851a-d3dc540cdf79/d417rd2-f0352dfb-38b6-45ef-9ab4-6c907697400a.png?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7InBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcLzc2NTU4MmFlLWVlMDItNGRjNC04NTFhLWQzZGM1NDBjZGY3OVwvZDQxN3JkMi1mMDM1MmRmYi0zOGI2LTQ1ZWYtOWFiNC02YzkwNzY5NzQwMGEucG5nIn1dXSwiYXVkIjpbInVybjpzZXJ2aWNlOmZpbGUuZG93bmxvYWQiXX0.dWH7TkskDMpq26eDYXs5wTrFcI-lonHuloVOsG3Fj9Y [/img][/center] [COLOR=red][indent][sub][I]Who the Fuck Knows? It’s somewhere in Kansas still... maybe.[/I] - [I]One Month Ago[/I][/sub][sup][right][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6D9vAItORgE]Issue 1.01.02: Live and Let Die[/url][/right][/sup][/indent][sub][hr][/sub][INDENT][sub][B]Interaction(s):[/B] [I]None[/I][/sub][SUP][RIGHT][b]Previously:[/b] [I][url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/4895343]1.01.01: Knockin' on Heaven's Door[/url][/I][/right][/SUP][/indent][/color] Roy Harper finished changing his clothes on the side of a dusty Kansas road, buttoning up the red flannel shirt and hiking up his jeans. He slowly hobbled back to the cab of the pick-up truck and climbed in, pulling on a baseball cap as he turned the key in the ignition. The engine tried to kick in, but instead chose to stall. Another turn, and the disappointing sound of a dead engine filled the cab. Roy slammed his hand onto the horn so that it hid his shout of anger. He had been shuffling for nearly two hours on the side of the road before a friendly sight loomed on the horizon. He picked up the pace, and practically knocked the door of the gas station store off its hinges as he huffed and puffed. The lone gas station attendant, lifted his head from his crossword for a moment, before simply shrugging and turning back to his game. Roy gave a short nod as he made his way towards the back to grab something to drink. He circled towards the refrigerators in the back. He absent-mindedly opened up one of the fridges and grabbed on to a case, pulling it out. He had made it half-way to the counter before Roy looked down and realized he had picked up a 24 pack of beer. He sighed and turned back around to replace the beer to get some water instead. Roy had to kneel down next to the fridge, reaching far back on the shelf to get the last bottle of water, when he heard the sound of several vehicles pulling up into the gravel lot outside. Apparently, there were enough people outside to force the attendant to put down his paper and head outside. Shortly after the bell above the front door jingled, Roy heard some cheering outside. He ripped off the bottle cap and chugged the contents before tossing it aside. He reached into the back of his jeans and pulled out his two trusty sidearms as he peered around the corner. Of course the bastards had managed to follow him. Through the glass front door, Roy saw men wearing mismatched military gear circling around the attendant, getting in kicks or two while pointing their guns at him. Roy was able to just barely make out the barking orders from one of the militiamen. [color=gray]”Who’s here, old man? You seen anyone?”[/color] The old man was simply crying in a huddled mass on the ground, his face too bruised and bloody to discern any expression. Roy closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He needed a plan, fast. The Alpha dog turned to the others with an amused expression. [color=gray]”It looks like he is choosing to ignore our orders. And we all know what happens when you ignore the orders of a Watchdog in our territory.”[/color] He lowered his rifle down towards the gas station attendant’s body, his finger on the trigger. He certainly would have pulled it, if not for the jingle of a bell. All ten of the Watchdogs spun around and pointed their guns in the direction of Roy. Roy gave a stupid smile, holding his hands up. In his right hand was what appeared to be a smartphone with the back of it pointed in the direction of the Watchdogs. For but a moment, there was silence. That is, until Roy decided to open his mouth. [color=red]”I really hate to interrupt this little military LARPing session, but I’m going to have to ask you to pack your red-neck asses back into your gas guzzlers and leave this place in your rear-view mirrors. And I swear to God, I will make sure your death is painful if you don’t let that man go.”[/color] The Alpha’s eyebrows furrowed as he stared Roy down, before a small gasp of air escaped from his lips. In that moment, he began laughing wildly, along with his fellow Watchdogs. Before Roy could react, the Alpha lowered his rifle with one hand down towards the attendant and pulled the trigger. The crying stopped, and the body fell limp. The Alpha smiled towards his brothers-in-arms. [color=gray]”Well, boys, it looks like we’ve found the son of a bitch who took down Wheeler. I for one thought he’d be bigger.”[/color] As the Watchdogs began lifting their firearms, Roy squeezed the phone in his hand. A blinding light flashed from out of the phone, and the Watchdogs all clutched at their eyes as a few fired a few blind shots wildly. Roy took this opportunity to rip open the door again, the bell dinging. As the Watchdogs blinked furiously to get their vision back, they seemed to gain more courage as they opened fire into the store. Bags of chips and packs of cigarettes burst open as Roy slid over the counter and crashed into the ground, a few bullets barely missing him. Roy smiled as he clutched at the double-barreled shotgun under the counter. He took a deep breath as he kept the shotgun in his lap, reached into his boot to pull out three small throwing knives strapped to his ankle. Now with their sights fully restored, the Watchdogs surrounded the front entrance as they searched for a sign of where their prey had gone. The Alpha pointed to two of his men and motioned for them to enter, and they gave curt nods as they began to make their way in. As soon as the bell dinged and the first two entered, Roy shoved himself up against the counter as much as he could. He closed his eyes, setting the knives down next to him silently as he held the shotgun with his right hand. The store was silent, except for the sound of the Watchdog’s footsteps. [color=red][i][b]BANG![/B][/I][/color] Roy pulled the trigger on the shotgun as he aimed it slightly upwards against the wooden counter behind him. The first Watchdog was blown back into the aisle behind him. The other Watchdog barely had any time to react before Roy had tossed the weapon aside and clutched one of the knives. In but a moment, Roy was able to turn around and shove his back against the wall behind the counter. He turned his gaze towards a mirror on his right meant to help the attendant see who was around him and smiled as his eyes locked on to the Watchdog looking at the counter with a confused expression. Roy lobbed the knife blindly over the counter, and the sound of a loud thud confirmed that the knife had hit its target. The rest of the Watchdogs turned their gaze towards their Alpha, who simply grunted and lifted his rifle in the direction of the counter. The others followed suit, and began opening fire. Roy anticipated this, and managed to grab two knives and dash around the corner towards the aisles. On the way, the vigilante threw both knives with impossible aim directly into the necks of the two closest Watchdogs through the now-shattered windows. They crumpled to the ground instantly as Roy ducked behind a set of shelves. His hands blindly found the sidearms he had stored there before he lowered himself towards the ground again as bullets ripped through the aisles. The Alpha seemed to have enough of this as his fellow Watchdogs began continued opening fire. He stepped back towards one of the pick-ups, removing the tarp and fetching the weapon lying there. In the meantime, Roy took a deep breath as he tried to plan his next move. He crawled towards the corner, with both hands wielding his sidearms. [color=red]”Alright… one… two… three.”[/color] As Roy quickly jumped up to his feet to roll towards the counter while getting a few shots off, his eyes grew wide as he saw the Alpha press the trigger on his grenade launcher. Roy was launched backwards by the explosion, and he bounced off the back wall. The shelf in front of him fell down, collapsing on top of his body. The pain was excruciating, and the sound of gunfire stopped. He heard the sounds of the Watchdog’s boots further shattering the shards of glass near the entrance. He didn’t have much longer. In what felt like forever, an indescribable sound could be heard from outside. It was a low hum at first, until it became louder. The footsteps stopped coming closer, and Roy could tell that the Watchdogs were heading outside to see what the commotion was all about. As the sound grew louder, he knew that it was the sound of an older motorcycle. He felt sorry for whatever poor soul was about to get dragged into this new mess. Needless to say, Roy wasn’t too surprised to hear the sound of a fight break out outside. First it seemed to be punching, kicking, and the sounds of bones snapping. Then gunfire hitting something… metallic? The fight seemed to go on for far too long, and Roy quickly began squirming his way out of his trapped state. Shattered glass tore through his skin and clothes, but he didn’t very much notice as he was focused on taking this chance to settle the score. Once he was free, Roy stumbled onto his feet and pointed his guns in the direction of the Watchdogs, only to then begin comprehending the scene in front of him. All of the Watchdogs seemed to be unconscious or dead. Four by Roy’s hand, and the other four appeared to have broken limbs or necks. Standing over the corpse of the Alpha was a woman in a red crop top and black leather pants. Her hair was long and somewhat unkempt, with two braids on the sides. Her arms, belly, and torso were all tattooed with designs that seemed rather peculiar. For a moment, Roy was incredibly confused as to what was going on. This gave the woman enough time to start marching towards him, her fists clenched. After years of experience with situations like this (usually [i]after[/i] he had said something, not before), Roy simply tossed the firearms aside and raised his bloody hands in the air. [color=red]”Woah woah woah, Sorry, I was shooting at those assholes.”[/color] The woman stopped in front of Roy, and it was clear now that she stood nearly half a foot taller than 6’ Roy Harper. He gave a goofy smile up at her, while she seemed to be giving him a quick look over. After a moment, she simply shrugged. [color=orange]”You’re welcome, pipsqueak.”[/color]