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Author Topic: The Ballad of "Pianola" Ambrose  (Read 16580 times)

Yoink

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Re: The Ballad of "Pianola" Ambrose
« Reply #60 on: August 14, 2012, 07:24:54 am »

Listen to the firearms trainin' could save me in a pinch
[3] You hop in the back of the car. Annoyingly, you end up in the middle. Aerie prods you in the ribs until you move over, ending up squashed up against Elixas. It is not the most comfortable way to ride. God, how much aftershave does this guy wear?!

Drive the vehicle, follow Manuel's directions. If Manuel doesn't give directions, well, then just drive around until he tells me to stop. If something gets in my way, turn.
 
Not giving anyone time to object, you state your intent and hurry over to the driver's seat.
[4] Yep, you manage, with a little bit of confusion, to get the car's engine humming readily as the others pile in. You glance to Manuel for some sort of recognition, but he just sits there, waiting for the rest to get themselves in the car.

"Could you show us how to shoot on horseback?"
Listen in to the Deadeye, try to note down how he holds his gun if he's demonstrating.
[4] You also hop in the back, securing yourself a comfortable spot with a few jabs to the ribs of those next to you.

Get into car and listen to firearms guy.
[6] You climb quickly into the car, leaning fowards to catch any pearls of wisdom your 'teacher' might happen to share. Unfortunately, this attentive posture makes the back seat even more cramped than it was before. Jacob jostles against you just about every time the car takes a corner. God, how much aftershave does this guy wear?!



With everyone else inside, all eyes are on the large figure of Clayton. Just how the heck is he supposed to fit in here?!
That question receives an unexpected answer. He's not. Just as the giant is stooping to try and cram himself through the door, an angry male voice shouts from just up the street.

"That's him! That's the big ape, that's the guy what kiboshed my new suit!"

Clayton looks up and sees the young fellow he traumatised earlier, clad in his undershirt and looking rather more brave in the company of several friends.
He turns away from the car as they rush at him, ready for a scrap.
[5] vs [5+1] The first of them reaches him, and the big guy puts up his meaty forearms and blocks his wild, rather pathetic punch.
That one backs off, clutching his hand, but there are plenty more where he came from.

At that point, Manuel slaps a palm on the dash and nods at the street ahead, prompting McBurney to ease the car tentatively fowards.
He gets the hang of it after a few stops and starts and the sedan quickly gains speed; the last the group see of Clayton is [5+1] the big lug fending off several of his attackers with broad sweeps of his arms, scattering them across the pavement. He's pretty badly outnumbered, though. Things don't look too good for him. The O'Dolan's security'll probably step in, though. ...Probably.

****

Chapter One- A Lesson in Life (And ending it)

The car ride is fairly uneventful. Manuel, electing to remain silent for the duration, gives directions simply with the occasional grunt, rapping a hand on the dash and nodding or pointing just where they need to go. McBurney doesn't seem to be the most experienced of drivers; the car wobbles back and forth a bit and often slows down almost to the point of stopping, but he does alright. He avoids causing any crashes, at least.

The scenery passing by is not overly interesting- unpainted, brown-brick buildings loosely arranged into blocks, broken by several vacant lots and fallen ruins, and punctuated by the occasional weathered wooden building. Everything is bathed in the dim, hazy light of early Autumn, and further in to the sprawl one can see the taller, more impressive buildings of the Uptown suburbs. Out the other way, well, buildings give way to fields, give way to the horizon, and in the far distance the blueish silhouettes of a mountain range.
This is, of course, the poor side of town. Few people are to be seen around here, and those that are out and about in this part of town (on a Saturday) look fairly wretched and destitute. Here and there gaps between buildings have been filled with crude wooden shanties, or semi-collapsed ruins will show signs of habitation, their pitiful occupants using tarpaulin for a roof.

These sad scenes of the Depression pass for a long time in heavy silence, interrupted only by the occasional *smack of a hand on the dash and Manuel's grunted commands. Each person is left to their own various thoughts for a while, until finally Aerie speaks up.

"So..."
She feels a bit uncomfortable breaking the silence in this strange car-load of people.

"Could you show us how to shoot on horseback?"
Manuel doesn't dignify that with a response, and the silence resumes for the rest of the trip.

After about twenty minutes of driving, Manuel once again signals to McBurney, jabbing a finger towards a rundown brick building up ahead, seemingly once painted with some gaudy advertisement for stock feed. These days the bright paint is faded and flaking off. Really sums up this part of town, to be honest.
"In here." It's almost a shock to actually hear the greaser speak for once.

The young Irish fellow in the driver's seat pays no notice, however, his hands firmly on the steering wheel as he concentrates on guiding the car into a small alleyway between the building and its smaller neighbour. Concentrates so hard, infact, that he doesn't notice Manuel motioning for him to stop until the wiry old man grabs him by the shoulder.
Marion slams on the brakes. Everyone's head meets the nearest hard surface in front of them. [3] Those in the backseat end up sprawled awkwardly together far more close than is comfortable. McBurney is just starting to stammer a (slightly dazed) apology when Manuel shoves open his door and swings his feet out, standing and heading around to the back of the car.

A moment later, the Mexican's young students have disentangled themselves and stand attentively before him.
He looks you over with an expression of what seems to be disdain on his features. Finally, he speaks.
"So, let's get thees straight," He says, and by God he certainly does have an accent in that strange, gravelly voice, "You don't like me, and I am already don't like you. So I am getting paid for teaching you some theengs, so I'll do that, you learn, and then we not see each other no more. Okay?"

He doesn't wait for a response, instead turning to pop open the trunk. Inside it is packed with a motley assortment of handguns.
He nods to you lot, "All of you grab a gon," Then he steps towards a small line drawn in the dirt floor of the alley, pulling forth his own pistol from the back of his waistband.

It's a fancy looking thing, plated with shining metal with some kind of lettering engraved down the side. Altogether it's a world apart from the selection in the trunk, which includes: [......]

  • A Browning Hi-Power Practical, an semi-automatic with a glossy chrome frame, seemingly featuring extensive modifications installed by a previous owner
  • A Detective Special, snub-nosed revolver in pristine condition
  • A battered, scarred specimen of a Colt M1911, its iron frame dented, half one side of the grip broken off and a few notches along the slide.
  • A heavy, bulky looking Smith & Wesson revolver, it's surfaces worn by what must be a lot of use.
  • A barely-functional Browning semi-auto, one side of its casing buckled inwards by what must have been a direct hit from a bullet.
  • Another M1911 in far better shape, a gleaming dark-coloured, deadly-looking piece of metal.

Leaving you to pick your weapons, Manuel stands before the next alleyway in a relaxed, balanced shooter's stance that belies his frail appearance. He raises his gun in one fluid motion, looking down the sights heedless of his sunglasses, and [...] blasts a bottle set atop a fence down the end of the alley into shards, another bullet toppling the next one to the ground a split-second later.

He turns back towards the group, raises his still-smoking pistol and demonstrates a few maneovres, ejecting the magazine, slipping two new bullets into it from a jacket pocket and sliding it back in and readying the gun once more. He does all this with slow, deliberate movements, apparently so that even thickheads like you lot can grasp the technique.
He then repeats the process with a revolver from somewhere on his person, tucking it away again before watching you lot expectantly.

At least you think he's watching you expectantly. It's kinda hard to tell with those damned shades of his.

>Right, you lot! Grab a gun, step up to the range and try and shoot some bottles off that fence down the alley.

>Try not to shoot yourself in the foot or anything.




Spoiler (click to show/hide)
« Last Edit: August 14, 2012, 07:27:04 am by Yoink »
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Tiruin

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Re: The Ballad of "Pianola" Ambrose
« Reply #61 on: August 14, 2012, 08:41:43 am »

((We roll for position. What would a 1 have achieved? Also, thanks guys for giving me sitting space! :3))

Aerie pointed to the dark-coloured and lethal looking M1911, which looked better than the others.

"All yours!"

Instead, she picks up the glossy Browning Hi-Power Practical!!!

Wait for the rest to pick before heading up to the range.


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TCM

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Re: The Ballad of "Pianola" Ambrose
« Reply #62 on: August 14, 2012, 09:26:43 am »

Elixas takes the good M1911 up to the range and fires at the bottles.

Holding the gun in a sideways (a.k.a. Gangsta') grip.
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Draignean

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Re: The Ballad of "Pianola" Ambrose
« Reply #63 on: August 14, 2012, 01:18:38 pm »


McBurney, still a little woozy from his moderately successful driving attempt, grabbed both the battered M1911 and the damaged Browning. The sudden stop had snapped his head a little bit, and he didn't want to have to bother with trying to figure out which of the fences he was seeing was the real one. Two guns would solve that problem nicely.

Marion stood wide, trying to imitate Manuel's shooting stance while still attempting to aim a little with both guns. Then he pulled the trigger. A lot.
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Yoink

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Re: The Ballad of "Pianola" Ambrose
« Reply #64 on: August 14, 2012, 09:11:36 pm »

((Huh, I knew there was something I'd forgotten... I was supposed to intro William Dunn! *facepalm*
Err, sorry Spinal_Taper, I'll do it next turn. :-\ This update took me hours, and it was getting pretty late when I posted, hence stupid mistakes etc. Gah!))
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Yoink

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Re: The Ballad of "Pianola" Ambrose
« Reply #65 on: August 19, 2012, 12:04:02 pm »

Instead, she picks up the glossy Browning Hi-Power Practical!!!

Wait for the rest to pick before heading up to the range.

Elixas takes the good M1911 up to the range and fires at the bottles.

Holding the gun in a sideways (a.k.a. Gangsta') grip.


McBurney, still a little woozy from his moderately successful driving attempt, grabbed both the battered M1911 and the damaged Browning. The sudden stop had snapped his head a little bit, and he didn't want to have to bother with trying to figure out which of the fences he was seeing was the real one. Two guns would solve that problem nicely.

Marion stood wide, trying to imitate Manuel's shooting stance while still attempting to aim a little with both guns. Then he pulled the trigger. A lot.

Quote from: Auto Jacob
>Get gun, point at bottles, go bang.

Aerie, Elixas and Jacob each take their gun of choice from the trunk(the modified Browning, well-kept M1911 and snub-nose revolver respectively), readying them in accordance with Manuel's demonstration whilst the dazed Irishman staggers over, his fedora crumpled against his head, and grabs the two first guns that come to hand before heading over towards the range.

[3-1] Raising his arms and aiming a gun at each firing ranges, he pulls both triggers a couple of times. From McBurney's confused vision, four guns blast chunks of dirt from two different alleyways, and then he turns around to see two different Manuels are shouting at him in annoyance.

Aerie steps up as Manuel pulls McBurney aside to explain that he "...Said one gon, not two!"
She raises the gun in a two-handed grip, a little nervously, squinting with one eye down the sights before firing at a bottle on the fence. [2] It flies past without managing to hit anything. Damn. She idly wonders just what's on the other end of the alley. Oh well.

Next up is Jacob, who moves fowards, shakily cocking the snub-nose and leveling it at the targets.
[1] The sudden jerk of recoil as he fires scares the crap out of Jacob; not only does the shot go wide, his thumb bends back at a painful angle and the pistol drops from his hands.

Wound Acquired: Jacob: Dislocated thumb!


Finally, up steps Elixas, swaggering up to the line in the dirt with supreme confidence. He barely even looks at the bottles, casually raising the Colt in an rather counterintuitive, sideways grip. [1-2] A deafening thunder of gunshots erupts through the afternoon air, and the recoil-directed sideways by an incorrect grip- causes the hapless Elixas to spin on the spot, still firing. (Interestingly enough, not one bullet actually hits a bottle. Huh.)

[6] Fortunately, Manuel sees what's happening even if he was too late to stop it, and dives fowards with surprising agility, knocking the rest of his charges to the floor of the alley as bullets shred the empty space where they were standing.
Being suddenly tackled by a flying Mexican does take its toll on Aerie, Marion and Jacob, of course; and landing in a tangled heap on the ground is really rather undignified, but hey, better than an ignominious death at a back-alley firing range, right?

Elixas spins around in a full circle, bullets blasting shards of brick and plaster from the surrounding buildings and [...] shooting a side mirror off the car before ending up facing the way he started, rather deafened from gunshots echoing in the enclosed space. He sways a bit, slightly woozy as he observes the still-unharmed bottles sitting on their fence.
Inexplicably, he summons up a strange, anachronistic accent and shouts at them, waving his still-smoking M1911 for emphasis, "Fucka, why you in my hood?!" As if to punctuate this bizarre question, the gun in his hand fires once more, lodging its seventh and final bullet in the unfortunate Elixas's foot. [3] He commences to rolling back and forth, groaning in pain as Manuel gets to his feet, dusts himself off and commences to screaming angrily at the injured man in Spanish.

The others are still collapsed on the ground, shaken by their near-death experience.

Wound Acquired: Elixas: Shot foot!



Quote from: William Dunn
>Search Lower Doughside for Pianola Ambrose


Going off the scattered bits of information you've managed to piece together, you're pretty sure "Pianola" Ambrose is hiding out somewhere in the poorer parts of the City, near the outskirts.
Unfortunately, that's about as much as you know, and with no better ideas you've resorted to simply wandering the streets of Lower Doughside, looking for anything resembling a criminal hideout. Not the most complex plan, sure, but [1] you're still coming to terms with the fact that you couldn't afford a real pair of pistols. At least the water pistols holstered at your side look kinda real... Kinda.

You're trudging along a stretch of old, cracked sidewalk- a rarity in itself, half of these back-roads aren't even paved- when you hear a couple of loud bangs up ahead. You stop, straighten up and listen. 'Are those gunshots?--' The thought has barely even gone through your mind before more gunshots follow.
You can't hear any shouts or anything, though... Target practice, maybe?

So thinking, you move quickly fowards. Who would be shooting out here in this desolate place, apart from an enigmatic hiding bank-robber?! This could be your chance! Hovering your hands over your waterpistols, you make it to the mouth of the alleyway the sound seems to be coming from, just in time to hear a particularly violent burst of gunfire, followed by a cry of pain and a series of angry shouts in some foreign language... German? Spanish? Who knows.

You peek around the corner and are treated to a strange sight indeed: a parked car, a confused pile of people sprawled on the ground, another fellow rolling around clutching a bleeding foot, and one old, Mexican-looking guy standing over him screaming what is undoubtably abuse.
What the hell is going on?! And more importantly, are you going to introduce yourself to these loonies?
They certainly do look kinda shady.



[3] Everyone else: Those of you who aren't busy rolling around on the ground might happen to notice a confused-looking fella peering at you from the mouth of the alley, wearing what looks like some kindof 'Old West' gunfighter constume.


Spoiler: Notes (click to show/hide)
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TCM

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Re: The Ballad of "Pianola" Ambrose
« Reply #66 on: August 19, 2012, 12:21:36 pm »

Groan, recover from pain.


((Nah Yoink, I expected something similar and deserved what I got. The reason I like the side grip is that I'M BUMPING THIS SHIT I'm a lefty and I don't like the idea of the cartridges flying into my face. And I grew up on Pac, both the Tu and -Man variety.) ))
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Tiruin

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Re: The Ballad of "Pianola" Ambrose
« Reply #67 on: August 19, 2012, 12:47:54 pm »

Aerie stood up, still shaken by the experience of nearly getting ripped up by lead, and dusted what collected on her sides of her clothing away.

"Erm. I get that we weren't supposed to fire at imaginary foes yet, right?

"Also, hello stranger!"
she said as she greeted the figure in the distance who vaguely looked male.

Then she checks her gun's attachments and attempts to identify them according to Manuel's words.
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Spinal_Taper

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Re: The Ballad of "Pianola" Ambrose
« Reply #68 on: August 19, 2012, 02:23:15 pm »

William broke into a wide smile at the sight of that group in a pile. He moseyed over to them, and held himself from laughing.
"Greetin's. Name's William Dunn. Y'all look like y'might need some help."
He helps some of the group up.
"So, why're ya rollin' about on the group like pigs in mud?"
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Tiruin

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Re: The Ballad of "Pianola" Ambrose
« Reply #69 on: August 19, 2012, 02:29:37 pm »

Aerie liked the stranger straight off, and as it approached -- hey, it was actually a he, how quaint.

"Well, you probably heard the gunshots, seeing you're holdings weapons yourself...

"This is all his doing."
she said, pointing to Elixas and the screaming spaniard.
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Spinal_Taper

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Re: The Ballad of "Pianola" Ambrose
« Reply #70 on: August 19, 2012, 02:43:43 pm »

William watched Manuel scream for a moment before turning back to Aerie.
"Who're they, and why's the Mexican screaming?"
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wolfchild

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Re: The Ballad of "Pianola" Ambrose
« Reply #71 on: August 19, 2012, 07:16:51 pm »

Sorry for the delay

Pick whatever gun is left/ a random one not knowing that much about them and join the others
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Yoink

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Re: The Ballad of "Pianola" Ambrose
« Reply #72 on: August 19, 2012, 07:19:13 pm »

((Er, you already did have a shot. :-\ Sorry, I auto'd you, not knowing when you'd be back.
Do you just want to take another shot, then?))
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Tiruin

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Re: The Ballad of "Pianola" Ambrose
« Reply #73 on: August 20, 2012, 12:38:25 am »

William watched Manuel scream for a moment before turning back to Aerie.
"Who're they, and why's the Mexican screaming?"

"Well, for starters, the Mexican didn't notice you yet so I am-..." Aerie introduced herself and her companions -- including Manuel to the stranger, feeling like she could trust the inquisitive stranger right off.

"Hey Manuel! We've got a new addition...

"Um, who are you again?"
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Spinal_Taper

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Re: The Ballad of "Pianola" Ambrose
« Reply #74 on: August 20, 2012, 12:48:03 am »

"Well, for starters, the Mexican didn't notice you yet so I am-..." Aerie introduced herself and her companions -- including Manuel to the stranger, feeling like she could trust the inquisitive stranger right off.

"Hey Manuel! We've got a new addition...

"Um, who are you again?"

"William Dunn. I need a gun. Dunn needs a gun. Heh."
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