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arrival
Dec 11, 2005 15:35:53 GMT -5
Post by carriondawn on Dec 11, 2005 15:35:53 GMT -5
Carrion Dawn pulled up to Klamath in her rickety old van. The van was her livelyhood. Her transportation, her shelter, her business. She had spent a great deal of time with a welding torch firming up its security given how important it was to her. She sighed and drank some water from a plastic bottle that had been refilled thousands of times since it initially held a soft drink back before the war. For saftey, her door didn't open, she had to go into the back of the van, by where she sleeps and go out the side door.
She stepped out onto the ground and turned to lock the door, her turned back was adorned with an old, real wood, Kalishnakov the way a guitar player would carry a guitar. She looked back and forth to see what business was a-foot here and took a big bite of jerky
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arrival
Dec 14, 2005 23:26:03 GMT -5
Post by ikarus on Dec 14, 2005 23:26:03 GMT -5
Ikarus has finally reached the edge of town and he rests for a minute. His bike has broken down again and he's had to drag it from the middle of nowhere. As he rests he looks around, hoping to see some place that looks like he might be able to find parts to fix his bike. He spies someone getting out of a van, a woman it looks like. Should he go to see her? She could have parts to trade, but she could also be dangerous. People startled very easily, and Ikarus's own appearance didn't help much. Seeing nothing else to do, he stands and begins pulling his bike down to the woman with the van. He'd go slowly and hopefully she wouldn't fire that rather large weapon at him.
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arrival
Dec 16, 2005 1:01:23 GMT -5
Post by carriondawn on Dec 16, 2005 1:01:23 GMT -5
Carrie caught signt of the man with the motorcycle. She recognized the advantage of having such good fuel efficiency; her van got pretty good efficiency given its size and the fact that it ran on alcohol she brewed in the back in a washtub still but its advantage was that she could carry several tanks of fuel with her to improve her range. "out of fuel?" she shouted over to the man not riding the motorcycle. She hoped it didn't run on petrol, supplies of that were few and far between for people not resourseful enough to find pre-war gas-stations that had not been pumped dry already. "or are you broken down?" As she got closer he saw that the strap that held the rifle across her back had a fixed blade knife in a sheath on the front, incase she was in too much of a hurry to shoot you, she could always stick somebody with that. A switchblade was nice in the city, in civilization, but they were too slow for the wasteland.
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arrival
Dec 20, 2005 17:08:07 GMT -5
Post by ikarus on Dec 20, 2005 17:08:07 GMT -5
"Yes" Ikarus nodded, his helmet shaking slightly over his head as he does so, "You have anything will work?" His accent elongates the ee (as in green) slightly, a product of his forgotten homeland. Seeing the knife, Ikarus kept himself cautious, certainly such things were needed out here, but they could be dangerous in the wrong hands too. Ikarus hoped this woman was not the wrong hands and debated with himself on how to act.
"Name is Ikarus," he decided to be friendly, "who you?"
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arrival
Dec 20, 2005 22:16:15 GMT -5
Post by carriondawn on Dec 20, 2005 22:16:15 GMT -5
"If you burn alcohol, I can brew some once I get some corn meal or tubers." she offered. "I'm out of fuel myself, atleast for sale." She looked at his bike, putting some hair behind her ears. "I'm Carrion Dawn, or Carrie. And you can calm down a little bit, Klamath isn't quite so dangerous as wherever you seem to be from. Its a chance to exchange hard living for hard work" She pocketed her keys and crossed her arms "what is it you do, Ikarus?"
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arrival
Dec 21, 2005 0:27:32 GMT -5
Post by ikarus on Dec 21, 2005 0:27:32 GMT -5
"Thankyou. I am...trader. Also, do what you call, odd jobs." At least for now, no one else was around and Ikarus, seeing no immediate danger, decided to take off his helmet. Besides, his nose itched. Ikarus pulls the helmet off and wipes the sweat from his face (discreetly scratching his nose while he's at it), revealing shoulder length dark brown hair, not quite dreadlocks but twisted into a similar formation by grime and oil. The hair badly needs washed. His face, though rather dirty, can be surprisingly kind, with twinkling brown eyes and weathered skin just beginning to show the wrinkles often caused by laughter. Perhaps it is simply exposure to the elements, perhaps it is from his forgotten homeland, but his skin has an ethnic look.
"Alcohol good, I use whatever fuel I get" Ikarus motions to the bike "If break, I fix...or take where can be fix." Ikarus blushed slightly at the last part, he never liked the idea that there were some things he could not fix.
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arrival
Dec 21, 2005 12:50:54 GMT -5
Post by carriondawn on Dec 21, 2005 12:50:54 GMT -5
She looked him over, confused by his accent. He didn't look or sound tribal in origin, but he spoke like one. "I'll brew some probably starting tomorrow, 6 caps to a gallon. Your tank holds, what...two two and a half gal?" she asked trying to guage it visually. "you have food? Drymeat maybe?" She asked
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arrival
Dec 21, 2005 16:49:05 GMT -5
Post by ikarus on Dec 21, 2005 16:49:05 GMT -5
Ikarus nodded "Yes, two and a half gallon." Then he smiled "I have better than drymeat, I have food!" Here Ikarus opens a bag he carries with him and pulls out several MRE packets. "Find old military base, this they gave to soldiers long time ago. Just add water and mix. Taste good!"
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arrival
Dec 21, 2005 21:30:51 GMT -5
Post by carriondawn on Dec 21, 2005 21:30:51 GMT -5
Her eyes lit up when she saw the MRE packages, each one had enough food to live comfortably for a whole day AND have the luxury of turning a canteen of water into a canteen of iced tea. "where was the base?! how many do you have??" She knew easy living and good money when she saw it and here it was. For these she'd siphon what was in her fuel tank to trade.
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arrival
Dec 24, 2005 1:00:37 GMT -5
Post by ikarus on Dec 24, 2005 1:00:37 GMT -5
Ikarus shook his head, no way was he going to tell anyone where his secret stash was....well, not right away. "Far away" he smiled "I have many, enough to sit and wait for gas... and enough to share while wait." Ikarus handed a few of the MRE's over to Carrie and ripped one open for himself-he hadn't eaten all day and figured now was as good a time as any. Mmmm....something labeled mac and cheese, his favorite.
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arrival
Dec 24, 2005 12:52:46 GMT -5
Post by carriondawn on Dec 24, 2005 12:52:46 GMT -5
She took hers to the well that was in the street between her van and his bike as she opened the meal and started setting up the system. She filled the heating bag with water, put it in the box with the pouch and leaned it up against a rock, just like the instructions on the box showed. the box hissed as the potasium granules reacted with the water, she poured some powdered drink mix into her canteen and filled it with water also, laying her utencils out infront of her. She was grinning ear to ear, MREs were a rare treat. "I'll brew you a litre of fuel for this!"
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arrival
Dec 25, 2005 21:18:56 GMT -5
Post by damian on Dec 25, 2005 21:18:56 GMT -5
A black corvett that was heavily beaten and also had a few bullet holes in it pulls outfront of the bar intown before the engine exploded with black smoke.A man stepped from it wearing all leather and fixing his leather jacket.On his hip was a long blade that seemed to be small compared to his size.He stood 6'6 and was very muscular.Damian looked around wiping blood from his lip and nose.The scar that ran down the left side of his face burned badly as blood slowly oozed rrom his eye.Damian looked around and noticed a man with a bike speaking to a woman at a van.Damian laughed as he lifted the hood of his car and ripped off the started throwing it to the side and then getting under and cutting the gas line.The gas ran into a container Damian carried with him for he knew the value of the precioss liquid.
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arrival
Dec 25, 2005 23:00:18 GMT -5
Post by carriondawn on Dec 25, 2005 23:00:18 GMT -5
Carrie watched him arive, and watched him drain the tank with a greedy glint in her eye, but she saw how tall the man was, almost two feet taller than her. She knew it was rare to see people so big in the wasteland, nutrition was so bad. Perhaps he had good food, or good luck, or perhaps he should have been 10 feet tall and his growth was stunted. She was wolfing down her beef stew, packing away cracker, peanut butter and snack bar, fruit, and the little tobasco bottle for later. It was remarkable to see so wealthy a man around town, and the bullet holes, showing that somebody was willing to spend a precious resourse to stop him.
She needed business, so she shouted, "Do you need bandages? two caps a foot"
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arrival
Dec 26, 2005 12:26:33 GMT -5
Post by damian on Dec 26, 2005 12:26:33 GMT -5
Damian looked over and turned before grabbing some engine grease and rubbing through his mohawk spikeing it up.Wiping blood from his face again he walked over to the van and looked over it.He turned and looked down at the woman."No I don't really need any bandages.I've been hurt worse than this before but I would like to know where to get a strong drink.But if you need any caps I don't really use them so you can have these."Damian pulled out a small bag that was filled with them and also handed her a hand full of MREs."I inherited alot from my father before he was killed.I don't use that many and like to get food for myself.Here are about 200 bottle caps and theres about 50 more MREs in my car.Take'm cause I dont use them.By the way my name is Damian but you can eigther call me that or just Dom."
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arrival
Dec 26, 2005 14:46:53 GMT -5
Post by carriondawn on Dec 26, 2005 14:46:53 GMT -5
she gave him a little salute, taking the gifts in shock. "sure thing Dom!" she said enthusiasticly. A man so rich was unheard of in the wasteland. Perhaps he was insane. . . .
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