Amongst the day

[Poolisclosed]

The sky is bleached dark gray and the weather has been better, the grass under your feet shuffle almost annoyingly as long grass would. Your day begins normally, a few slices of diet sausage, a rip of bread and a drink of water. It's not enough but it'll hold you over until you hit that jackpot of a stash you tell yourself about under your breath. A few miles ahead, anamolies lay in the swampy water but your detector reads no artifacts, you side step them and continue on your journey.


A loud roar of a truck is heard down the broken cement road which you are keeping a good distance from that had clearly seen better days before it was treated like a entire population of people who used jack hammers to walk approaches, you duck down into a bush, hold your breath and prepare your weapon, hoping for the worst. As it goes, it turns out it is a convoy, the truck in the very back. A morgue truck, a prisoner truck and a armored vehicle. The prisoner truck is at the very back, and hits the pot hole in the road, popping the wheel and causing the truck to spin out of control and slide sideways. The Soldiers swear and shout, climbing out and going down to the armored vehicle to get a spare. As you approach, you see on the dashboard a clipboard with prisoner names and status, you take it out of interest as it is just laying there. You read it over, finding nothing interesting until something catches your eye. It reads the following.

MARKUS S. VADMARSKI
SEX: MALE
AGE: 45
STATUS: LOW THREAT
CHARGES: BLACK MARKET PARTICIPATION, INSURANCE FRAUD, TAX EVASION, TRESPASS ONTO FORBIDDEN AREA, ASSAULT, GRAND THEFT AUTO
DIRECTIVES: DAILY RELOCATION, LOW THREAT DETAINMENT CENTERS IN AREA OF: CORDON UNTIL NEW DIRECTIVES.


You look in the back of the truck, peering through the cloth and the steel bars with the white paint chipping off. A fat man in a white and black striped prisoner jump suit is on the bench, he has a very long beard and has rather long hair, as if it were unattended to with rather pail skin to boot. He looks at you with large eyes, crawling over to you on his hands and knees which're cuffed to the bench, just barely making it to you behind the bars. He whispers to you with a paniced and hurried voice "Hey! Get me out of here!".

You raise your weapon to shoot the lock off but you're interrupted by the sound of men marching towards the truck while rolling a rather large tire. He says to you as you begin to turn around and sprint "Find Lachance!". You escape barely, hiding within the bushes. You decided to keep the clipboard, not sure if it was intentional or not with the sudden panic and just holding onto it instead of dropping it or out of wits. You make your way towards the bar, hoping to put something together for some money.


((chea son))

[Bagelz]

Coolio - Gangsta's Paradise

[Welek]

Poolisclosed and this Bagelz fag back?

Cool'

[Cheesums]

Pretty interesting story, YO.

I recall the days where we roamed c17 as ORIGINAL Lambda gangsters.

[Bagelz]