G
Guest
Guest
Ok, I think I'm gonna clear up all this confusion about Kane's character. A while ago, Kane was a pure psychotic. He slaughtered caravans for a living and had no problems killing innocent people. Now, he's calmed down a *bit*. He's still cruel, ruthless, and will kill without hesitation, but often only when he has to.
Now on with the story...
As the thick cloud of dust settles, Kane stops his motorcycle and puts his foot on the ground. The iron Phoenix gates stand before him. In front of the gates stand two guards in combat armour, toting heavy firepower, who, for some reason look like they're going to gun him down at any minute.
"Halt! What is your buisness here?"
Says one guard, hefting his minigun to a battle-ready position.
"I wish to enter the city."
Kane replies.
"We saw a firefight a few miles North. You know any thing 'bout that?"
"Yeah, I do..."
Kane recounts the encounter with the bandits on mortorbikes, and the campsite.
"Oh,"
says the guard.
"Sorry, we've had some problems with highway gangs. Just keep your weapons under control. And see the sheriff if yer lookin' for work."
The guard yells something over the gates and they slowly swing open. Kane starts the bike and slowly rides in. He gets some strange looks as he stops the bike in an out-of-the-way corner of town and stands to admire the town. It was fairly big, and not so much different from... San Diego really. He spots a few weapons shops, a hospital, police station, bar and some other buildings. He holsters his weapons and heads for the bar. As he enters the saloon, Kane brushes the dust from his trenchcoat and walks up to the bar.
"Bartender, whisky."
The bartender hands Kane a shot of whisky.
"$5"
Kane slams a five dollar note onto the bar, grabs his drink and turns around, examining the other occupants of the bar. They're mostly human, though there are some mutants in the far corner. One man in a leather jacket walks up to him.
"Hey man, how'd ya like some drugs?"
The stranger says.
"How'd you like a bullet in your head?"
Replies Kane. The man backes away quietly and Kane turnss back to his drink. He wasn't in the mood for any bullshit today. Remembering his Gauss rifle was empty, he turns to the bartender.
"Bartender. Hey you got any gauss ammo?"
Asks Kane.
"Try the weapons shop, dumbass."
Replies the bartender. Kane finishes his drink and leaves for the weapons shop.
Kane heads for the nearest gun shop, 'Guns 'n' bulllets'. As he enters, the shopkeeper looks up at him.
"Can I help you?"
"Yeah, you got any gauss ammo?"
"Oooh, sorry. Ran out last week. Try across the street."
Kane leaves without a word and crosses the street towards the other weapons shop, 'Randal's Guns'. Kane enters and the keeper greets him eagerly.
"Hey, How's it goin'? I'm Randal and this is my gun shop. We sell guns, ammo and cigarettes. What can I help you with?"
"Gauss ammo, do you have any gauss ammo?"
"Sorry friend, just sold the last clip five minutes ago."
"Damnit. well, do you have any ammo for this?"
Kane holds out his Beretta M-9 "Specialist".
"Hot damn! Haven't seen one of those fer 15 years!
Damn fine weapon this is! Deadly accurate to 250 yards, more power than the .223."
"Yeah, but do you have any ammo for it?"
"Well... I might.... just.. check under here.."
Randal ducks down under the counter and rumages around for a few minutes.
"Yep, here we go.. four clips. That'll be... $200."
Kane hands him the money, grabs the ammo and holsters the pistol.
"Anything else?"
"Yeah, got any shotgun shells?"
The bartender hands him a box of 50 shells.
"50 shells, comes to... $100."
"Here you go. And I'd like to sell my Gauss rifle. Doesn't look like I'm gonna find any ammo for it."
Kane unholsters his Gauss Rifle and places it on the counter.
"You want cash or...?"
"No, harware. What can I get for it?"
Randal holds up the gauss rifle, examining it.
"Wait, I got something for ya."
He ducks under the counter again and pops up quickly with two very small guns in his hands, they are as small as a long pistol, barely even 30cm long, but have the unmistakable holes along the thin barrel, identifying them as sub-machine guns.
"These, friend, are M2-450 "Stingers". You can't get them anywhere else. Stopped makin' 'em see? They may look small... but they'll go through metal armour like That!"
He snaps his fingers.
"Pierces combat armour easy, too!"
Kane takes the two tiny SMG's in his hands, swinging them about and aiming them around the room. They were perfect.
Randal produces a bandolier with several clips in it. He holds up a single .450 bullet. It's very thin and fairly long.
"I can give you the guns, five clips for each of 'em, and $300, for that gauss rifle."
Kane thinks for a while.
"Yeah, sounds like a good deal."
Kane hands over the gauss rifle and takes the weapons, ammo and cash.
"Oh, yeah.. some cigarettes."
Randal hands Kane some tobacco and cigarette papers.
"Here you go, $20."
Kane hands Randal the money. Then turns around and walks out, with a lighter load, and some powerfull weapons.
Outside the shop, Kane spins the two M2-450s skillfully and holsters them. He rolls a cigarette, lights it, and walks off down the street.
Now on with the story...
As the thick cloud of dust settles, Kane stops his motorcycle and puts his foot on the ground. The iron Phoenix gates stand before him. In front of the gates stand two guards in combat armour, toting heavy firepower, who, for some reason look like they're going to gun him down at any minute.
"Halt! What is your buisness here?"
Says one guard, hefting his minigun to a battle-ready position.
"I wish to enter the city."
Kane replies.
"We saw a firefight a few miles North. You know any thing 'bout that?"
"Yeah, I do..."
Kane recounts the encounter with the bandits on mortorbikes, and the campsite.
"Oh,"
says the guard.
"Sorry, we've had some problems with highway gangs. Just keep your weapons under control. And see the sheriff if yer lookin' for work."
The guard yells something over the gates and they slowly swing open. Kane starts the bike and slowly rides in. He gets some strange looks as he stops the bike in an out-of-the-way corner of town and stands to admire the town. It was fairly big, and not so much different from... San Diego really. He spots a few weapons shops, a hospital, police station, bar and some other buildings. He holsters his weapons and heads for the bar. As he enters the saloon, Kane brushes the dust from his trenchcoat and walks up to the bar.
"Bartender, whisky."
The bartender hands Kane a shot of whisky.
"$5"
Kane slams a five dollar note onto the bar, grabs his drink and turns around, examining the other occupants of the bar. They're mostly human, though there are some mutants in the far corner. One man in a leather jacket walks up to him.
"Hey man, how'd ya like some drugs?"
The stranger says.
"How'd you like a bullet in your head?"
Replies Kane. The man backes away quietly and Kane turnss back to his drink. He wasn't in the mood for any bullshit today. Remembering his Gauss rifle was empty, he turns to the bartender.
"Bartender. Hey you got any gauss ammo?"
Asks Kane.
"Try the weapons shop, dumbass."
Replies the bartender. Kane finishes his drink and leaves for the weapons shop.
Kane heads for the nearest gun shop, 'Guns 'n' bulllets'. As he enters, the shopkeeper looks up at him.
"Can I help you?"
"Yeah, you got any gauss ammo?"
"Oooh, sorry. Ran out last week. Try across the street."
Kane leaves without a word and crosses the street towards the other weapons shop, 'Randal's Guns'. Kane enters and the keeper greets him eagerly.
"Hey, How's it goin'? I'm Randal and this is my gun shop. We sell guns, ammo and cigarettes. What can I help you with?"
"Gauss ammo, do you have any gauss ammo?"
"Sorry friend, just sold the last clip five minutes ago."
"Damnit. well, do you have any ammo for this?"
Kane holds out his Beretta M-9 "Specialist".
"Hot damn! Haven't seen one of those fer 15 years!
Damn fine weapon this is! Deadly accurate to 250 yards, more power than the .223."
"Yeah, but do you have any ammo for it?"
"Well... I might.... just.. check under here.."
Randal ducks down under the counter and rumages around for a few minutes.
"Yep, here we go.. four clips. That'll be... $200."
Kane hands him the money, grabs the ammo and holsters the pistol.
"Anything else?"
"Yeah, got any shotgun shells?"
The bartender hands him a box of 50 shells.
"50 shells, comes to... $100."
"Here you go. And I'd like to sell my Gauss rifle. Doesn't look like I'm gonna find any ammo for it."
Kane unholsters his Gauss Rifle and places it on the counter.
"You want cash or...?"
"No, harware. What can I get for it?"
Randal holds up the gauss rifle, examining it.
"Wait, I got something for ya."
He ducks under the counter again and pops up quickly with two very small guns in his hands, they are as small as a long pistol, barely even 30cm long, but have the unmistakable holes along the thin barrel, identifying them as sub-machine guns.
"These, friend, are M2-450 "Stingers". You can't get them anywhere else. Stopped makin' 'em see? They may look small... but they'll go through metal armour like That!"
He snaps his fingers.
"Pierces combat armour easy, too!"
Kane takes the two tiny SMG's in his hands, swinging them about and aiming them around the room. They were perfect.
Randal produces a bandolier with several clips in it. He holds up a single .450 bullet. It's very thin and fairly long.
"I can give you the guns, five clips for each of 'em, and $300, for that gauss rifle."
Kane thinks for a while.
"Yeah, sounds like a good deal."
Kane hands over the gauss rifle and takes the weapons, ammo and cash.
"Oh, yeah.. some cigarettes."
Randal hands Kane some tobacco and cigarette papers.
"Here you go, $20."
Kane hands Randal the money. Then turns around and walks out, with a lighter load, and some powerfull weapons.
Outside the shop, Kane spins the two M2-450s skillfully and holsters them. He rolls a cigarette, lights it, and walks off down the street.