Chainsaws, Flamethrowers, Guns, and Motorcycles


dutch_icon.gif mortimer_icon.gif

Scene Title Chainsaws, Flamethrowers, Guns, and Motorcycles
Synopsis Mortimer cuts a guy's leg off, Dutch is sort of annoyed about it, then John Logan is discussed.
Date June 1 2009

The Rookery

After the bomb, Staten Island grew to become a haven for undesirables. If the Island is their home, then the Rookery is their playplace. Equal parts gritty and decadent, it boasts dark alleys, bright lights, and every pleasure that one could imagine. Provided you know where to ask, of course.

Some areas have fared better than the rest of the island; some have fared far worse. For each well-tended brothel or gaming house, there's at least one creaky, crumbling structure left over from the days of pre-bomb suburban glory.

The population is considered universally distasteful, even by much of the rest of Staten Island. Criminals, refugees, victims of radiation poisoning… Those who have nowhere else to go often end up here. The most common method of getting out is to have your body dropped in the river, followed closely by being left wherever it is you got killed.

Good luck.

"God damnit!"Jack Crow's real name was Francis terriwinkle. Everyone who knew Jack's real name, felt it wiser not to use it around the guy. He was big and mean and tough and just about as absolutely nuts as anyone on this whole island, a man who's face was permenently disfigured when he fired an RPG-7 at a mugger who was standing just six feet away. Lately he was a little famous because he'd actually found and then sold a M-134 20mm minigun to a 8th grader for sixty five bucks and a case of big league chew.
So when Jack comes running down the street, with a flamethrower on his back and a pair of Mac-10s held in either hand. People run, not because they're so scared of whats got Jack all riled up. THey run because the dude's fucking nuts. "I need a hostage!"Which is the appropriate way to send everyone on the street sprinting away from you as absolutely fast as they can.

With a crash, Dutch's Hp2 plows through the plate glass window of a third story floor. Front tire high in the air, engine screaming. Its a decent amount of airtime too, before the big fat BMW smashes into the ground and goes way sideways as it slides across freshly broken glass. Not that Dutch crashes mind you, no he just goes careening past Jack with barely an inch between the two. Then, with the rear brake locked he gets onto the pegs good and proper.
It takes a moment to get the BMW stopped, and then oriented diagnal to Jack. Then Dutch comes tumbling off, as the HP2 sits handsomely on its kickstand.
"Ow fuck!"
And then that STI perfect ten emerges from underneath his jacket, with Dutch still sprawled on his back. Glaring down his sights, under the bike and down yonder to where jack was standing. "Freeze jackass! Drop the flamethrower!"

Being called up by one of his men randomly keeping track of various parts of the Island, Mortimer is surprised and excited to learn that there's a crazy guy with a flamethrower randomly looking for a hostage. Unable to ride his own bike right now, Mortimer rides up on the back of a black Vectrix Electric Scooter, one hand on the driver's shoulder. The driver is covered in all black biker gear, his helmet with a red number 9 on it, and they quickly skid on the sidewalk just as Jack decides to try and run down the street.

"Mister Flamethrower!" he calls out, one of his sleeves pulled up behind a chainsaw attached to his left arm. It revs up, violently buzzing as he steps from the scooter and starts to slowly approach the man, then a faster paced walk, and finally he's running. "Off with your legs!" he ducks, laughing maniacally before swiping the chainsaw towards the man's knees.

And yes, his eyes are silver right now.

Mortimer rolls forward after the chainsaw hits and immediately stops spinning, coming up on one knee to face in Jack's direction with an SMG pulled from behind his jacket. "Groovy." he says with a grin, but doesn't fire, since Dutch is a party pooper. "What? I was just gonna take his legs off, I'm not allowed to kill right now."

Meanwhile, 9 has gotten the hell out of dodge, he's not staying there with three guys possibly getting ready to shoot the hell out of eachother, and him with nothing but a scooter.

"Mort, what the fuck is your problem. The fucker's bleeding like a stuck pig!"He's not going to forgive Mort, but Dutch has other things on his mind. "He's gonna fuckin bleed to death, you have any idea the amount of shit I'm gonna get if I take that jackass in with chainsaw wounds?"He frowns, rising as he lowers his pistol. Casually walking over towards Mortimer. "I mean dude, they think I'm nuts already they're gonna ask me where my chainsaw launching gun is."

"Calm down, you're always overreacting." Mortimer casually slides his SMG back behind him, beginning to walk over to the guy. "I'll fix it so he won't die." he confidently assures, stomping on the man's shoulder in a way that very quickly dislocates it, then grabs the flamethrower, looking it over to survey the damage. He makes a few cuts here and there with his chainsaw, which is quite messy, but he seems to be altering the flamethrower in a way that'll make the fire a more controlled blast.

"Alright, now let's fix those legs!" He rolls the man over with his foot, then just starts carefully firing the flamethrower at the wounds, trying to stop the bleeding, but not enough to char the man's legs. "That should be enough, right about… there! You okay, buddy?" he asks with an unsympathetic smile down at Jack.

Dutch frowns, but he doesnt stop Mort. "Dude, I'm over reacting? You cut a dude's leg off."Not that he seems concerned with the flamethrower bit. "If he goes into shock and dies, or like has some crazy bloodclot shit I'm gonna put myself back on your case. You understand me?"

"He'll be fine, shouldn't you be calling an ambulance?" Mortimer asks as he drops the flamethrower, yawning while unscrewing his flamethrower. "11, get out here with my hook! My chainsaw is all bloody now." Finally turning to Dutch again, he adds, "Cassidy would be pissed if I killed a guy, so, I quit the killing business."

Dutch hmmms yes, crazy crush ok. "We're on Staten island dude, there are no ambulances out here. I'm gonna have to drag him back to my van, on the bike and then wade through traffic to get him to the hospital."He just frowns, before peering over at the chainsaw. "Nice Chainsaw, is that a Husqvarna?"

"I built this baby out of bike parts and clock gears." 11 steps out of an alley, apparently having been watching nearby, then takes the chainsaw and hands Mortimer a flesh colored prosthetic with a sharp hook, which Mortimer takes and immediately starts to screw on. "I'll call five of my guys, they'll do something about the traffic." Something, which will probably involve shooting into the air and scaring cars off the road. "So, where are my guns?" Yes, that again.

"Take him in yourself, dont even bring me up. Tell Cassidy this is all you."Dutch just lets that drop. "I prefer guys I can deal with out here, Mortimer. I dont appreciate hostages, or hand grenades but I think we have a mutual understanding."Dutch glances back at his bike. "I lose something, if you get locked up forever."

"And I can't even beat you to within an inch of your life because it'd piss off Cassidy." Mortimer regretfully says as he snags the man by the hook, beginning to drag him off. But then, he stops, looking back. He's got the Asian kid thing handled, but there is this one little problem, "You got any information on John Logan? He's gonna be my ticket to getting my guns back."

Dutch shakes his head softly "Cant say I do, is he running guns or whatever? Something I should know about?"Brow perked, and eyes fixed. He was going to look him up either way now, but curiosity and all of that. "Is he on the island?"

"He works in some place called the Happy Dagger, gets women addicted to his power and forces them to be prostitutes." Mortimer reaches behind and pulls out one of those rings, a ring Dutch will be very familiar with from the roof, then just twirls the explosive on his finger. "I thought I'd give him a little 'life changing experience', before he goes to jail."

Dutch hmms "Dont, just makes our job harder. Just catch him, and turn him in to whoever your working with."He doubted Mort would get such an idea all by his lonesome. "drug him, keep him under, dont let him get ahold of you."Dutch holsters back up, before slowly heading back towards his bike. "Your crazy enough already."

Mortimer laughs his maniacal laugh, giving Dutch another dismissive look with those silvery eyes. "Don't worry, I won't maim the guy, and I won't have to get near him for what I'm gonna do. I plan to get his hookers free, and have their heads fixed. Just trust me on this, who's the homicidal maniac here? I've got experience. Then, I promise you, he'll return unharmed, if everything goes as planned."

If Dutch hears Mort, he gives no clear indication. He just saddles up his BMW, flips up the kickstand, and zooms back the way he came. Well he goes back the same direction rather. He doesnt try to get back in that third story window.

Mortimer just drags Jack off by the hooked collar, a black van pulling up with doors open and red numbered men waiting. "Hey, I need a doctor to make sure this guy doesn't go into shock before we get to the hospital. And don't forget, we have coreography practice tonight, it has to be perfect for when Cassidy comes!"

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