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MP5's fiction

Post by MP5 on Sun 14 Feb 2010 - 17:08

The first two chapters of Tire Tracks and Spent Casings, also available at fanfiction.net:

Tire Tracks and Spent Casings

A Gunslinger Girl Fanfic by MP5


Disclaimer: Gunslinger Girl is the property of Yu Aida. All trademarks featured herein are copyright their respective owners. Allison, Brian, as well as other original characters herein are property of MP5 unless otherwise noted.

Chapter 1

“So what's a pretty girl like you doing way out here?” asked Marconi D'Innocenzo. The Padanian cell leader was speaking to a ponytailed brunette who was half-sitting, half-leaning on the hood of a bright red Mazdaspeed MX-5 at a rest stop some distance from Tuscany along a beautiful stretch of winding tarmac that wove through the Italian countryside. Marconi was laying low after a spate of successful kidnappings in Rome. It did not seem like such a bad thing to enjoy himself in the meantime, and today he had decided to take his Lamborghini Gallardo Spyder for a spin in the wonderful sunny weather around Tuscany.

“Not much; I fancied a drive. I love these roads, personally.” replied the brunette. “And the weather is much better here, not all dreary and rainy like it is back home.”

Marconi noticed the license plate on the MX-5. He saw the EU registration plate indicated the car was registered in Great Britain. “Ah, you're English? Your Italian is impeccably good. What part of the UK are you from?” he asked, this time in a tongue foreign to him, yet one in which he was fluent.

“I'm from Wales, but I got here from London on holiday.” she replied in English. “I can only take so much of dorm life before I go crazy.”

“You are a college student? What are you majoring in?”

“I thought I would like to do something related to the auto industry, so I chose public relations and marketing. If it's one thing I'm good at, it's expressing how great a car is compared to other ones.”

“I take it you'll work for Mazda when you get out?” asked the unassuming insurgent, indicating the brunette's car.

“If they keep making cars like this, sure. This is the Mazdaspeed MX-5. She's a real firecracker, and a blast to drive on these hills. Nice Lamborghini, by the way.”

“Thanks. I worked hard to get her.” replied Marconi. Certainly, those exorbitant ransom prices helped to pay for this, he added mentally.

“You sure you're not just showing off, though? I imagine a lot of people get the impression you're a rich playboy of some sort, driving around in that.” said the brunette.

“If that is the impression I make, well, I see no problem with that. In fact, I am honored by such thoughts.” said Marconi confidently. “And don't worry, I may not look it, but I'm a good driver.”

“Would you like to prove that in a race?” challenged the brunette, a smirk on her face. Marconi smiled and shook his head.

“In that thing? Against my Gallardo? My dear, I would leave you in the dust before you could even make the first turn.” the man replied.

“This is perfect territory for my MX-5. Plenty of corners, nice and exciting, just the way it should be. You might have V10 hustle, but only in the straights. You still have to slow down to take the corners, which evens the playing field rather nicely.” countered the girl, glancing at him as she tilted down her sunglasses.

“You make a good point. For a young lady like you, you definitely know your stuff. Perhaps this will be a challenge after all.”

“I know my cars. Care to make a wager?”

“What do you have in mind?” asked Marconi.

“There's a great restaurant several miles from here. That'll be our finish line. If I win, I would like you to buy me lunch and hand me the registration and title for your Lamborghini.” offered the college student.

“That's quite a tall order.” said Marconi, taken aback by her wager on his part. But at 25, he was young and stupid compared to his comrades in Padania, and so his arrogance began to take hold. “All right, I'll take you on. What do I get if I win?”

She put up her sunglasses over her eyes. “If you win, I'll give you the title and registration to my car. That, and, well... I've never been in bed with a handsome Italian man before.” she proffered, stifling an internal urge to shiver.

“I like the sound of that.” said Marconi, roving his eyes over the brunette's shapely figure. “You've got yourself a race then.”

The two shook hands and got into their respective machines. Marconi showed off as he started his Lamborghini's engine and revved it, filling the air with the V10 exhaust note. His opponent's turbocharged 1.8L I4 didn't sound as impressive, but she gave it a few healthy revs as well. Pulling out into the intersection, they lined up at the traffic lights and waited for the green light. Both watched intensely as the light remained red. Then it changed to green, and in a chaotic spat of screeching tires and smoke, they took off on the hillside pass. Marconi leapt to the lead in his Gallardo, flexing the 513hp muscle of the midship-mounted V10 engine as they screamed down the straightaway. At the first turn, a hard left-hander, he encountered what his opponent had predicted and was forced to slow down to take the corner. What he least expected was for his opponent to come flying through the corner sideways in a opposite-lock drift. Because she kept a higher speed through the turn, she was on his tail in no time, and she even passed him at the next corner.

Is she a racing driver? wondered Marconi. What have I gotten myself into? At this rate, I'll lose my car!

As the two racers continued down the hillside pass, the brunette was speaking into a wireless earpiece connected to a personal two-way radio in her car. In her rearview mirror, she could easily see that Marconi was relying on horsepower to keep him in the race.

“Brian, he’s taking the bait. Tell those guys up ahead to get ready. We’re about ten seconds away from the intercept zone.”

“Copy that, Allison. Don’t get caught up in the trap.” replied a voice on the other end.

“You know me better than that.”

The brunette rounded the right-hand hairpin up ahead and then floored her gas pedal, Marconi not far behind. She saw a pair of white Ford Transit vans on either side of the road. She let up on the gas a little, allowing Marconi to breeze past her. She started braking hard to slow down her MX-5 immediately.

Checking his rearview mirror, Marconi noticed that his opponent had stopped her car entirely. As he brought his attention forward, he noticed too late that an X-Net car arrest device had been deployed right where he was about to pass over. As the tires rolled over the barbed spikes of the device, the net was wrapped around the front and rear tires of the €157,000 Euro supercar and immediately brought it to a hard emergency stop. Marconi was thrown forward, his seatbelt immediately grabbing his body but still allowing his head to smack the steering wheel. His car completely stationary, the brunette in the MX-5 quickly closed the gap between her own car and his while on the side of the road, some armed men and a 10-year-old girl with a Fabrique Nationale P90 began to advance on the car as well.

The brunette quickly got out of her MX-5 and moved in on Marconi. Realizing he was trapped, Marconi quickly extricated himself from his immobilized supercar and faced the brunette head-on armed only with a butterfly knife.

“You lying bitch! I’m gonna kill you, government whore!”

Marconi thrust his knife at the brunette, who blocked the knife by allowing it to penetrate her forearm. She immediately seized hold of his right arm and spun him around before she grabbed him by the back of his head and slammed him down hard, face-first, atop the engine bay of the Lamborghini. Using such inhuman strength, this hard and violent blow knocked Marconi unconscious and he slumped to the pavement in a heap. The threat over, the brunette looked at the Lamborghini to find that the impact of Marconi’s head had left a dent on the engine bay cover of the Gallardo Spyder. Immediately, she apologetically caressed the hood, ignoring the knife still embedded in her forearm.

“I’m sorry baby, I didn’t mean to hurt you! We’ll get that nasty ol’ ouchie buffed right out!”

The 10-year-old with the P90 approached the taller brunette, bewildered at her behavior.

“Allison, are you apologizing to that car?”

“Of course, Henrietta.” replied the older girl. “Cars have feelings too, and I don’t think they like dents very much. Especially supercars like this Lamborghini Gallardo.”

“You know, while you’ve been apologizing to that thing, you’ve completely ignored the knife that’s sticking out of your arm.

Maybe you should attend to that first, Allison.” said a redheaded Irishman, approaching the two girls.

“The car takes precedence, Brian.” replied the girl. “But if you insist.”

She grasped the knife and quickly removed it, wincing as she did so. The Irishman handed her disinfectant and gauze which she expertly used to clean and then cover up her wound. She then lifted the hood of the Lamborghini's engine bay and grasping the other side with her fingers, used her thumbs on the bulge where the dent had formed. With a firm push, she popped the dented area back into form, and save for a few new ridges, it was almost impossible to tell that a head had been in contact with the metal. The rest could be buffed out later—that is, if Brian or Section 2 would allow her to keep the beautiful machine. And so a plan came to mind.

“Oh, Briiiian!”

“Yes, Allison?”

“Can I take--”

“For the last time, Allison, you don't go on missions just to take somebody's car that you fancy as a trophy. Besides, you're already taking up two parking spaces with your other cars, not counting my own! The Social Welfare Agency is not a bloody multi-car garage!” ranted the Irish handler.

“Pleeeaaaaaaaase?” whined the brunette, giving the Irishman puppy-dog eyes. He sighed reluctantly and made his reply.

“I'll see what I can do; but don't hold your breath.”

“Yaaaay!” cried the brunette, latching onto her handler with a powerful hug. He rolled his eyes and smiled. Love her or hate her, you just couldn't say no to her.

Who is this brunette? These days, everyone calls her Allison, but she held the name of 'Shelby Mercer' in a past life. Her handler is Brian McDonnell, who was once an Irishman in the British Special Air Service before a training accident almost paralyzed him and retired him from the service. Together, they form a Generation II Fratello that marks the first dedicated mobile-attack team with driving skill to match—if not surpass—even the world's best race drivers.

This is the story of their adventures. Their tale is one of horsepower and gunpowder; of engine detonation and explosive detonation; a tale of Tire Tracks and Spent Casings.

Tire Tracks and Spent Casings

A Gunslinger Girl Fanfic by MP5

Disclaimer: Gunslinger Girl is the property of Yu Aida. All trademarks featured herein are copyright their respective owners. Allison, Brian, as well as other original characters herein are property of MP5 unless otherwise noted. Kara Pagani and Michele Pagani are the property of the author Kiskaloo.



Chapter 2: Then and Now, Part 1


Those who saw the Allison-Brian fratello pull into the SWA compound at dusk noted the paradoxical state of the resident Gen II cyborg driver. One half of this state was the fact that Allison was smiling. That in itself is not unusual, as Allison is a generally cheerful, exuberant girl, perhaps more so than her handler had expected to deal with. However, what was unusual was that while doing this, she was driving sedately, arriving behind Giuseppe and Henrietta as they entered the parking lot. Normally, the gates had to be opened well in advance to anticipate Allison's heavy-footed driving, normally flying through the entryway at triple the posted limit before executing some kind of elaborate display reminiscent of the stunt driver Russ Swift before parking her car perfectly in its space as part of that stunt. They would also expect Brian McDonnell to be frightened, shaking, queasy, or any combination of the three as he got out of the passenger's side of whatever Allison chose to drive at the moment.


The confusing sight was quickly clarified once onlookers saw what they had dragged, or rather towed in with them behind one of the Ford Transit vans that had been on the mission to capture Marconi D'Innocenzo. Connected via a tow bar and transported very carefully was none other than Marconi's now captive Lamborghini Gallardo Spyder, with its orange color split down the middle by a very sporty black racing stripe, a custom paint job that the Padanian kidnapper had a shop apply to his most prized toy. A toy that was evidently now the trophy of Section 2's “Petrolhead Princess.”

Allison pulled into her designated parking spot, in between a Lancia Delta HF Integrale Evoluzione II and a 1985 Toyota Corolla GT-S, both of which were hers as well. Brian got out first, grumbling about how he would have to file a request for yet another additional parking spot. He passed another Gen II cyborg and her handler, this one of Franco-Japanese descent, and the cyborg had come out to meet Allison. More importantly, she had come to ask questions about the same model of supercar her handler had recently bought currently sitting in the parking lot hitched to a nondescript panel van.


“Hey, Allison.” greeted the other cyborg with a wave.

“Hi, Kara!” replied Allison. “It's good to be back here after today.”

“Something go bad on the mission?”

“Oh no, the mission went well, and I even had fun doing it!”

“I can imagine.” said Kara before a burning question in her mind rose to the surface. “Let me cut to the chase. Just how,” she began, pointing at the striped Gallardo Spyder, “did you bring that home? A present from Brian? Did he finally stumble upon some money?”


“Actually, I took it from the target of today's mission. He's been whisked away by the government; he's got no use for it anymore. I've been too hard on poor Brian's funds lately, what with my tuning and fuel usage and all. I had to beg him for this one, and when he realized this would be a freebie, all he had to do was place a call to Chief Lorenzo. I think I'm being sort of a pain, though.”

“Trust me, Allison.” said Kara's handler, Michele. “Compared to shelling out €200,000 Euros for that thing, Brian's getting the deal of the century when all he has to do is fill out a parking permit form and have someone fudge Marconi's title and registration so that the car is yours.”

“I guess so, heh-heh.” chuckled the British cyborg. Meanwhile, Kara was doing a walk-around of Allison's new trophy. She stopped when she came to the bonnet over the engine compartment and noted a deformation in the aluminum skin of the cover.

“Hey Allison, what happened here?”

Allison rushed over and saw what her friend was talking about. “Oh, that. Well, here's the thing. Marconi got pissed that I led him into the X-net trap and obviously wanted to kill me. He had just a knife, which explains this.” she said, gesturing to her wounded arm. “So one thing led to another, and before I knew it, I smashed his head into the hood, and while that knocked him out, I hurt the poor baby, so I quickly popped most of the dent back out. I still need to buff it out, but after that, she'll be as good as new.”


“You really love cars, don't you?” said Kara rhetorically.

“I could ask you the same question. I think we both know the answer to that, whether addressed to you or me.” said Allison, and the two grinned. Michele approached them and shook Allison's hand.

“As a fellow Gallardo Spyder owner, all I can say is Congratulations. You'll definitely enjoy driving it.”



Meanwhile, in his personal quarters, Brian was struggling to fill out paperwork so that his cyborg could keep her trophy car at the compound. Certainly, he was worried about how they would manage to tamper with Marconi's legal ownership of the car on paper. As he deliberated, he gazed upon a nondescript binder that he knew very well. Opening to the first page, he saw a picture of a blonde-haired teenage girl with brown eyes crouched next to a very clean brand-new Caterham Roadsport SV equipped with the wheels and tires from the Superlight models. The paint job on this particular Roadsport was a custom one, Pearlescent Lime Green with twin orange racing stripe. The girl in the picture was beaming with pride. As Brian looked at the page, he saw the caption under the picture:

“Shelby Mercer, Age 17”

Brian then thought back to the beginnings of his partnership with Allison. Nearly a decade earlier, he had been a young Leftenant in the 22 Regiment Special Air Service. Not bad for a half-bred Northern Ireland boy who bore a nickname his mates had given him. Back then, he was referred to as “The Belfast Bastard,” a moniker that Brian wears to this day as a badge of pride, even when some others didn't share the sentiment. However, “The Belfast Bastard” who had recently gained his new rank barely had any time to enjoy its privileges or shoulder its responsibilities. Shortly after his promotion after a tour of duty in the much-maligned Balkans conflicts of the 1990's, Brian was sidelined from duty and eventually retired when an incident during fast rope training nearly paralyzed him. Months of slow rehabilitation washed him out of service with an honorable discharge, but his military career had essentially been over from that point on. A brief but profitable stint with a Private Security Company followed, and when that company folded, he found himself floundering in the Security bubble burst. It was around this time that Jean and Giuseppe Croce, whom he had worked with in a joint-operation in Bosnia, approached him with a rather unconventional job offer. Once he had heard what they had to say, the conversation went something like this:




“All right, so if I understand correctly, what you want me to do is be a partner for a multi-million Euro teenage cyborg girl and train her and go on black ops with her for the Italian Government?” asked Brian, summing up the two brothers' explanation. They were sitting in a London pub, talking over pints of Guinness.

“Well, when you put it that way, that's the gist of the job.” replied Giuseppe sheepishly.

“I still have a hard time believing that's what you two have been doing all these years, you both gotta be taking the piss. Anyhow, I'm long since out of the regiment. What makes you think I'm qualified for this cloak-and-dagger Mickey?”

“If we could draw a 40-year-old about to go into his midlife crisis back into working these missions and still have him be sharp, then you shouldn't have any problem at your age, Brian.” stated Jean matter of factly. “Besides, you're former SAS and you still carried those skills to the private sector. And you just got out of that, so we figured now was as good a time as any to talk to you. Besides, do you really think you've exercised your full potential so quickly?”

“Point taken, Jean.” replied Brian as he took a pull from his pint of stout. “All right, suppose I do take this job. What's in it for me?”

“The pay is almost as good as what you'll find in the private sector. You'll also have access to the latest weapons and equipment, and you can choose to stay off-site somewhere in Rome or at the handlers' dorm. We have a full cafeteria and staff on-site, as well as a kill house, shooting range, obstacle course, and pool.”

“That's not too bad.” thought Brian. “So who am I going to be assigned to?”

Jean slid over a green binder for Brian to look through. As he started reading, Jean made further explanations.

“We have a full profile on her past identity. If there's anything you don't like or don't find suitable in there, we can have that corrected upon request. For instance, if you're not too sure about her driving--”

“Actually, I'll keep that for her.” said Brian. “I'm not the kind of guy who takes away what someone knows. In fact, I can probably teach her what I know about combat driving.”

Jean blinked, then continued. “I suppose that's reasonable, but wouldn't you prefer for her to be a field operator?”

“My skills aren't that fresh, Jean.” stated Brian. It's been a good couple of years, shit changes when you've been gone that long. I think what I want to do is keep pace with her when getting back into the game.”

“Suit yourself.” said Jean. It was Giuseppe's turn to speak.

“So are you sold on it? Would you like to come see her?”

“In about a week. I need to seriously think about this.”

*****

When Brian saw Shelby for the first time, he was amazed. The Social Welfare Agency had done an amazing job repairing her injuries from her accident, and she was as beautiful as she was before, and stronger too, her skeleton having been enhanced with Carbon Fiber Reinforced Plastic and titanium. From what he saw, Brian was hard-pressed to believe that little more than a month ago, this girl had been broadsided along with her family by an intoxicated truck driver at the wheel of an Iveco Stralis doing seventy miles per hour through the intersection—one where he had the red light. A severed power line and leaking fuel had given Shelby Mercer 3rd-degree burns over 75 percent of her body less than a minute after her family's Ford Fiesta had been propelled into a telephone pole like a hockey puck. Yet there was no evidence this had ever happened, thanks to the mastery of the Social Welfare Agency's surgeons.

As he mulled his final decision over, he made peace with himself and accepted the responsibility his new job would entail.

“A couple things I want, Jean.” said Brian.

“Shoot.”

“I want her marksmanship to be excellent--”

“That's usually already standard.”

“Fine, but I want to train her a little more, though an encyclopedic knowledge of firearms is appreciated. Second, I heard about the conditioning. I want her conditioning to be a little less than the bare minimum. I'm not a fan of brainwashing.”

“She'll be more than a handful, Brian. And any side effects that pop up could be ugly.”

“Leave that to me. I'm her new guardian, I should be the one to take care of her and help her along the way. Also, change her hair and eye color. I'd like her to be a blue-eyed brunette. And finally, give her a little extra armor, the kind that'll stop .30-ought-six.”

“Is that all?”

“Yes.”

“That's settled, then. Come back in a day or two, the doctors will be finished with the changes by that time.”

*****

Two days later, Brian returned to the Section 2 Compound to meet his cyborg as she awoke. In the monitoring room next to his cyborg's post-op bed, behind a one-way mirror, Brian was hammering down final details with Ferro, who was typing information into a computer terminal.


“So what will you name her?”

“...Allison. Allison McDonnell.”

“You want her to share your surname?”

“The way I see it, everyone should have a family to call their own.”

“As you say.” replied Ferro, typing in the information into her PC. A quick sound alerted them to the fact that Allison was waking up.

“Better go greet her, Brian.”

The Irishman stepped out of the observation room and opened the door to Allison's temporary bedroom. As he shut the door behind him, Allison slowly rose from under the covers, dressed in a thin hospital gown. She awoke like a true sedate teenager, yawning as she sat up, smacking her lips once or twice. Brian chuckled; at first glance, Allison really was just a normal teenage girl.

“Good morning, sleepyhead. You rest well?” asked Brian, approaching her bedside.

“Of course!” replied Allison cheerfully. Brian smiled at her, and she returned the smile.

“You mind telling me your name?”

“Allison. Allison McDonnell. And you are my handler, Brian McDonnell!” she stated happily. Brian hid the slight displeasure at the title of 'handler'. Allison was a person, not a trained animal.

“That's correct, Allison. But please, consider me a partner, and call me Brian. I'm not comfortable with being referred to as your 'handler'. You all right with that?”

“Sure, no problem, Brian!”

Brian smiled for the second time in five minutes. He never asked for her to be so sunny and cheerful, but she was very lightly conditioned, and the result was the exposure of her true personality. The smile faded from his face as he produced a metallic case, no bigger or wider than a sheet of printer paper. Setting it down at the foot of Allison's bed, he watched as she opened the case's latches. Opening the case itself, Allison found a M1911-style pistol with cocking serrations at the front and back of the slide and featured a small tactical rail integrated into the frame. The case included three 7-round magazines, two other guide rods, a threaded barrel, and a large box of .45 ACP ammunition. Lifting the pistol out of its case, Allison inspected it as she hefted the empty gun, pulling back the slide and checking for a round in-battery to verify if it was loaded or not.

“Do you know what this weapon is, Allison?” Brian asked.

“Of course. It's an American-made Kimber Custom TLE/RL II. You can tell by the cocking serrations, located at the front and rear, and the tactical rail they built into the frame. 5-inch barrel, flat-top slide with fixed Tritium night sights, and chambered for .45 Automatic Colt Pistol ammo. A standard modernized version of the Colt M1911A1, built for usage by Tactical Law-Enforcement teams like SWAT and Special Response Teams. ” Allison answered, racking the slide and dry-firing the weapon in a safe direction. But pulling the trigger made her notice more about it.

“Wait a minute. This isn't a stock Custom II. The trigger pull feels lighter. It's match grade, but the normal pull is about 4-5 pounds. This one is at least half the factory setting.”

She then flicked a small tab on the slide stop so that its protrusion was in line with the slide stop. This suddenly lit up a red dot where she aimed the weapon. “A LaserMax Internal Laser Sight?! Wow! This thing's amazing! But won't this give away my position?” she asked Brian.

Trying to hide his astonishment at her spot-on analysis of her sidearm, he answered, “That's why there's two other guide rods. Section 2 had LaserMax create a separate IR laser sight, and the other guide rod is the stock guide rod on the Custom TLE. We figured this would leave you free to install a flashlight—if you were so inclined.”

“Did you choose this for me?”

“Well, of course I did--”

“Thank you Brian, I'll treasure it forever!” chirped Allison with a smile.

“Uh... you're welcome, I guess.” the Irishman replied, unsure how to feel. He then produced another object, this one a bundle of clothing. Allison unwrapped it to find an outfit consisting of a pleated skirt, thigh-high stockings, Nike sneakers, and a v-neck cashmere sweater.

“Get dressed.” said Brian. “The weather's lovely outside, and I still have something else for you, but we have to go somewhere to get it. Meet me in the parking lot when you're done getting dressed, all right?”

With that, Brian exited the room, and Allison quickly started changing into her new outfit.




Brian looked up at the sound of a V10 engine's roar followed by the whining and whistling cacophony of a twincharged 4-cylinder engine. His window had a direct view of the new test track that was on the grounds of the Section 2 compound. He brought out his binoculars to observe, and he smiled as he saw Kara driving the recently-acquired Gallardo Spyder, generously lent to her by Allison, who was following close behind in her tuned-up Corolla GT-S, the 1985 liftback model known in Japan as the “Hachi-Roku,” or Eight-Six due to its chassis code, AE86. Allison's AE86 was the same model as the Japan-market Toyota Sprinter Trueno. However, Allison herself had since yanked out the stock 4A-GEU engine and replaced it with a 1600cc Supercharged 4A-GZE engine from a Toyota MR2, and then added a turbocharger to create a powerful forced-induction engine with almost zero lag in boost. She also went on to modify other parts of the car; adding a racing seat for the driver, changing out the exhaust system, installing a boost controller, setting up a slight negative-camber angle of her tires and suspension for easy drifting while still being safe to drive on the streets, and mating the engine to a new transmission. Of course, Brian footed the bill for Allison's expensive hobby, luckily having saved the surplus cash from his work in the private sector. As he watched the two cyborg girls race around the test track, he sighed and wondered if it really was such a long time ago when he bought Allison the first car she could call her own.



Allison hurried out to the parking lot to find Brian leaning against the hood of a bright red Audi RS6 sedan, keys in hand as Allison approached.

“Here, catch.” was all the warning Brian gave before tossing the keys to Allison, who caught them with a little surprise.

“Check your wallet. You have all you need.”

Allison did just that, and inspected the contents of her wallet. She found her Italian Identity cards, both the electronic and paper versions, two United Kingdom National Identity Cards, one identifying her as “Mary Ainsworth”, the other as “Allison McDonnell, Code B-marked UK driver's licenses with the same identities as her National Identity Cards, and most importantly, her Patente B driver's license, which was accepted in all EU member countries. The licenses themselves genuine, but off-record, Allison was chronologically 17 years old, about a year short of legal driving age for an automobile, at least in Italy.

“Wait, you mean I'm driving?” she asked, looking up from her license.

“Exactly. Hop in, I'm bringing you to where I have another special something to give you.”

Allison grinned and made a beeline for the driver's side door as Brian smiled and rode shotgun. The two buckled in, and Allison automatically adjusted the rearview mirror and side mirrors like a safe driver would do. Releasing the handbrake and placing the car into its Tiptronic clutchless manual transmission, she pulled the car out of its parking space and proceeded out of the parking lot.

“Allison, make sure to follow the SatNav directions. The final destination on its map is where we need to go.”

“All right, I got it.”

Once Allison turned onto the street, she increased throttle and the 5-Liter V10 FSI twin-turbocharged engine roared as she followed the satellite navigation map on the in-dash entertainment and info console with a pace that significantly elevated Brian's heart rate all the way to their destination. They arrived at an independent pre-owned car dealer just a few kilometers near the Rome city limits. Brian blinked several times as he got out of the passenger's seat, clearing his head of the dizzying sensation he got while Allison was driving.

“Are you all right, Brian?” Allison asked, fearful and concerned she'd hurt her handler.

“I'm fine, just give me a moment to get my bearings... one thing's for sure. The way you drive, we won't be wanting for speed. And that's a good thing, I'm all right now, and we can get on with what we came here to do.”

“What are we doing here, anyway?” asked Allison.

“Taking a look at some cars. We'll need to pick one for missions. Take your time and pick one out that suits your skills and taste, because that will be your car. Try to pick something that's got hustle, agility, and preferably Italian.”

So Allison perused the lot, which had a myriad number of vehicles in all shapes and sizes. She knew what to bypass, though, and she found herself amongst the higher-end sports cars and sport compacts. She walked amongst reborn classic hot hatches like the Golf GTI, and current ones, like the Honda Civic Type R. She gave Alfa Romeo GTVs and Fiat Coupés a once-over. She even considered a Nissan Skyline GT-R R34 before shaking her head and moving along. Then, she found the machine of her choice. It sat parked on a revolving pedestal, further glorifying her final choice. It was a 1994 Lancia Delta HF Integrale Evoluzione II, one of the greatest cars ever made in Italy that did not come with a six-figure price tag. With a 215 hp Garrett-turbocharged engine, all-wheel drive, the best engine management software offered by Lancia yet, and only 4223 of them sold, it was the greatest out of the Lancia Delta line before the second generation of Deltas lost their rallying pedigree with the introduction of the Nuova Delta, a front-wheel-drive hatchback based on a Fiat platform.

Allison strode up to the revolving platform and eyed the Evoluzione with a lustful gaze. In her eyes, at this very moment, it was the most perfect car in the world (perhaps presented as such thanks to the 'halo' of lights shining down on it). She had to have it now, despite never having driven it before, because she could tell it was special in its own unique way. Her eyes lingered on the slowly-turning Lancia a little longer before turning to face Brian, who had been watching with mirth along with the dealership's proprietor.

“I think I found what I want. Can we get this one?” Allison asked.

“I dunno,
can we? Should we?” joked Brian, having a little fun at Allison's expense.

“YES! We
should get this car! We have to get this car!” Allison argued, getting impatient. Brian just smiled.

“Then I was way ahead of you, and it looks like I called it right.” said Brian. He produced a set of keys to the Lancia from his pocket and tossed them to Allison. As she caught them, she did a double-take between the keys and the Lancia on the revolving pedestal.

“You mean--”

“Yes, Allison. I bought it ahead of time hoping you would choose this. It was a gamble, but I'm naturally lucky.”

Allison was speechless as she stared at the car keys in her hand. When her brain seemed to be able to function again, she had no idea what else to do except grin widely, stash the keys into her pocket, and thank her handler with a flying tackle of an energetic hug.



Brian finished the parking request and kicked back in his chair. Over time, one car became two. Then three. Now, it was four. He brought up his binoculars again, smiling as he saw Allison's grinning face as she pulled into the pit lane with Kara, who moved to the passenger's seat and belted in as Allison prepared to take the Gallardo out herself. As they peeled off onto the track again, Brian looked to his wall and saw the silhouette target Allison had shot up with her primary weapon and sidearm during their first target practice session. Holes had been blown neatly and clearly through the head and chest areas with both weapons in as short a time as she could muster.


At the SWA compound's indoor shooting range, Brian handed over to Allison an Israeli Weapons Industries Tavor CTAR-21 carbine. This was the shortened version of the Tavor TAR-21 bullpup assault rifle currently being fielded by the Israeli Defense Forces, and while they normally came with a pre-installed and zeroed ITL MARS reflex sight with integrated laser sight, this one had been modified with a series of 20mm Picatinny Rails for attachment of modular accessories. In particular, this one had an EOTech 556 Holographic Weapon Sight mounted atop the 20mm rail that sat between the backup iron sights.

On the counter in front of Allison were boxes of ammunition and magazines for her Tavor and her Kimber. She had loaded three magazines for each of her weapons, and once loaded, proceeded to place the remaining two spare magazines somewhere she could access them easily. Her Custom TLE/RL II now sat in a clip-on waistband holster, the spare pistol magazines in an adjacent magazine carrier. For her Tavor, the two spare 30-round magazines sat in a single belt-mounted dual mag pouch. Attached to these magazines were a section of parachute cord held in place as a loop on the bottom of the magazine by two pieces of gaffer tape. These crude attachments made it easier to remove the fresh magazines with speed from the pouch.

“All right, Allison. Empty three mags from each weapon as fast as you can into the target, and as accurately as possible. Are you ready?” asked Brian, holding a timer as he secured his hearing protection.

“Call it, Brian.” replied Allison, shouldering the Tavor.

“Go!”

A buzzer sounded, signaling Allison to start shooting. Allison cranked off five six-round bursts at the target in roughly three seconds. She swapped magazines, letting the empty one fall to the floor, and with the new magazines properly seated, she pressed the bolt catch release switch, and this time completely leaned on the trigger. Her cybernetic enhancements compensated for the minuscule recoil and muzzle rise that the weapon generated, and while the holographic sight picture of the mounted EOTech HWS danced a little, her shots were dead-on, this time in the head area. Switching to her third magazine, she did another full-auto mag dump, this time in the target's center of mass. As soon as her Tavor was dry, Allison let the sling-equipped carbine hang free as she transitioned to her Kimber, releasing the safety as she drew it and began popping off double-taps at the target's center of mass. It took less than five seconds to switch weapons and empty the Wilson Combat seven-round magazine into the target, and as the slide locked to the rear, she ejected the empty magazine and whipped in the new one, releasing the slide to chamber the first round. She repeated this process until the last magazine went dry. She quickly checked to make sure the chamber was clear, then she released the slide, released the hammer, and then safed and holstered the pistol.


“Impressive work, Allison. 28.5 seconds total.” noted Brian, showing her the stopwatch.

“Can we see the groupings?” asked Allison. Her partner nodded and pressed the 'retrieve' button for the target winch and the now-perforated target zipped back to the pair. Brian let out a low whistle as he got a closer look at the groupings on the target.

“Wow, this is fantastic! 2” groupings with all the ammo you used. Job well done, Allison. Couldn't have done that better myself!”

Allison grinned under the praise. However, for her to truly fall into her own, still much rigorous training was ahead.

****

As her Lancia began to slide its tail to the right at the last corner of the improvised Gymkhana course, Allison quickly countersteered right into the sweeping left-hander and feathered the throttle to keep the initiated drift going. As her right hand took care of the steering and her left foot kept the rear tires sliding by intermittently depressing and releasing the clutch pedal to keep the revs built up. This made her left hand free to aim her Kimber out the window and pop off a flurry of rounds at steel plate targets no larger than a regulation playing card. Out of seven targets, she hit six, and could do nothing about the one she missed, proceeding instead to the finish line of the course, where Brian was waiting with spare magazines and a stopwatch.

“Still almost two minutes, Allison. I want you to do the course again, and make sure you nail all the targets this time. You were very close, but you still need to get it right in one run. If you get it right once, I expect you to get it right a second, third, and fourth time, until that run and its dynamics are committed to your memory, understand?” said Brian, clearing the stopwatch and retrieving the spent magazines.

“Yes, sir. No mistakes.” replied Allison, feeding a fresh magazine into her Kimber.

“Good girl. Drive to the starting line, I'll reset the targets.”

Allison brought her car around to the start of the course while Brian pressed a button on a remote to prop the steel targets back up. Once Allison was ready, she built up her engine revs while Brian used a hand-signal countdown. As soon as he dropped his arm, Allison went for it, quickly shifting through the gears as she approached the first set of targets perched on the straightaway. Aiming her Kimber out the window, she started squeezing away, downing the targets in quick succession. Quickly, Allison took her right hand off the wheel for a lightning-fast reload and then quickly downshifted as she hit the brakes upon approaching a set of cones, coming to a stop. She then threw the car in reverse and swung the car around, reversing through a slight chicane. Still in reverse, Allison aimed her pistol out the window and fired at another seven targets, downing them as her car moved past. Another hard yank of the steering wheel to the left swung the Lancia front-first to the right as she straightened out, popped the clutch, shifted into first, and tromped down on the accelerator as she resumed normal forward motion, reloading her Kimber in between gearshifts. Up ahead was a cluster of targets positioned in a circle. As Allison approached them, she started the car drifting again, but this time held it so that she would drift around the targets in a donut pattern, downing the steel targets as her front end slid past. She continued to the last two parts of the course, a right-hand sweeping turn followed by a left-hander. As she drifted past the right-hander and downed the targets, she prepared herself for the last turn, which messed her up last time. She slid the car into another four-wheel drift, and after popping off six rounds in succession, she paused a beat, and then downed the seventh with the last cartridge of ammunition she had. She now had the timing correct, and a big grin was visible on her face as she drove towards a smiling Brian.

“Nice job. You think you can do that again?”

“Reset the targets, Brian. I'll show you that I can.”

Once she was topped off on ammunition, she did the course flawlessly a second time. And a third. And a fourth. And a fifth.



Brian's gaze shifted from the paper/cardboard target to a picture on his desk. It was a picture of himself, Allison, and his half-American cousin, Tommy, in front of Giants Stadium sometime after the New York Giants' October 31, 2005 win against the Washington Redskins. This was taken sometime after her first field trial once she completed basic training. As a Generation II cyborg, Allison was certainly capable of doing reconnaissance and intelligence-gathering missions. To test those basics, Brian had arranged for a trip to New York City rather than simply somewhere in Rome, where there was a higher chance of information leaks from the local police who may in turn be connected with the PRF. Knowing his cousin was involved with the investigation of gang-related crime, Brian thought the opportunity presented itself to put Allison's practiced skills—foreign languages, driving, disguise and camouflage (thanks in great part to Alessandro and Petrushka), and combat skills—to use against a defined enemy. Still though, this meant explaining Allison's presence to his cousin without giving away too much. In a matter of days, Brian hatched a cover story with Alessandro's help that was partially truthful, but would hopefully keep his cousin Tommy from asking too much.


Detective Thomas McDonnell of the NYPD's 46th Precinct was busy poring over notes for a potential sting operation inside his office. As an officer assigned to an Organized crime task force in the area nearest the Morris Heights section of the Bronx, he had been dealing with cases that often involved the Morris Heights set of a primarily Hispanic gang known as the Trinitarios. They were the fastest-growing gang in New York, with roughly up to 10,000 members. Thomas' own precinct had their hands full enough with the local set, and progress had been slow in shutting them down. That was to be expected in an area that was one of the poorest communities in America, where students went to school passing through metal detectors and swiping ID cards, where drug addiction was high, and most of the male residents have been arrested at some point in their lives.

A secretary opened the door to his office. “Detective McDonnell, you have a visitor to see you.”

“Not now.” said Tommy. “I'm busy here.”

“What, I come all this way to visit my dear old cousin, and this is the reception I get?”

Tommy looked up from his notes and saw Brian leaning against the door jamb, giving him a wave. Tommy shook his head and shifted his papers aside for later as he came to give Brian a hug. Allison sat in the adjacent hallway, quickly assessing the detective currently greeting Brian as a non-threat.

“If it isn't my Limey-Mick cousin Brian.” said Tommy coarsely but jovially. “How you been, man? I haven't seen you in the past couple of years. Sorry about aunt Claire.” he added, his condolences referring to Brian's mother, who had passed away some time before Brian joined Section II.

“It was a tough loss, but all I could really do was move on, you know? I've managed to find some work again.”

“Hey that's good, man! More of the same, I take it?”

“Sort of. I'm a consultant for some government agencies across the pond. Oh, and there's someone I'd like to introduce to you.”

Brian waved Allison in, and she stood up and strode into the office.

“Tommy, this is Allison. As of a couple months ago, she's my adopted sister, and by extension, your new cousin.”

“Nice to meet you, uh, Cousin Tommy.” greeted Allison nervously. Tommy chuckled.

“Always full of surprises, ain't ya, Brian? Well, it's nice to meet you too, Allison. How old are you?”

“17.”

“Oh man, I gotta get you a present for your next birthday, and Christmas, too!”

“Well if it helps, Tommy,” offered Brian, “she's really into cars.”

“She is?” asked Tommy. “That helps. What do you think of the NYPD's cruisers, Allison?”

“The Crown Vic has enjoyed its throne long enough. As I see it, the only way for it to stay on the throne against the new Dodge Charger is to stick a little extra oomph under the bonnet. Maybe a supercharger or some twin turbochargers will toss a little heat in its trousers. But then again, I don't think you guys would want the rookies drag racing in Time Square, now, would you?” said Allison with a smile.

Tommy laughed at what she said. “I like this kid already. So then Brian, what can I do for you while you're here in the states? I suppose you have business here other than stopping by to say hi and introduce me to your cute new gearhead little sister?”

“Actually, our business here is to help you out.” said Brian. “Allison wants to join the S.A.S or maybe Delta Force when she's older, and she knows Recon and disguise is an important skill. She's been taking lots of lessons in foreign languages, among other things, and she's even put in a lot of range time thanks to some people I know.”

“What are you getting at, Brian?” asked Tommy, his expression now serious.

“I've heard about the
Trinitarios problem here in the Bronx. Allison wants to test her skills out and infiltrate these sons-of-bitches and help the NYPD take down the Morris Heights set.”


“You guys did your research.” said Tommy. “Do forgive me, however, if I'm reluctant to send in a foreign national into harm's way. If something happens to her, Brian, this shit falls on me, and at that, she's my own cousin!”

“Perhaps you'll be less reluctant if you see what she's been learning. Can you get us a ride down to the Police Academy?”

****

“Go easy on these officers, Allison. They're just here to test your skills.”

Allison was now inside a martial arts studio within the New York Police Academy surrounded by three police officers acting as aggressors in a self-defense scenario. One was equipped with a rubber knife, another with a telescoping baton, and a third with a gas-blowback Airsoft pistol.

“Well, whenever you're ready, guys.” Allison said to the her opponents. No sooner had the words left her mouth than the attackers descended upon her immediately. Allison prioritized her threats, first going after the one with the pistol. Swatting the pistol's muzzle aside, Allison seized hold of the pistol's slide as she delivered a mean backhand into her present opponent's face, the impact causing him to withdraw his hands to the affected area. The pistol now in her left hand, Allison swept out her opponent's feet from under him, dropping him to the floor before she dropped her foot into his solar plexus, the training officer doubling over as the wind was knocked out of him. She aimed the loaded Airsoft pistol at the other two opponents, causing them to back off a little. Deciding against shooting them, she ejected the magazine and field-stripped the weapon in one smooth motion and tossed the slide and frame of the pistol to the side as she rushed them. She quickly disarmed the one with the rubber knife, then seized him from behind as she quickly made a mock slash across his throat and two stabs into his chest. Finally, faced with just someone armed with a telescoping baton, she ducked under an overhand swing, seized the baton from the officer, and quickly struck the back of his knees, bringing him to the floor before delivering a painful blow to the back of his head. And that was that. Three officers down, in the span of thirty seconds. Brian clapped in appreciation while his cousin Tommy stood amazed at the superhuman performance he had just seen.

“So, you wanna reconsider using her for this op?” asked Brian.

“Damn, Brian. I was wrong about worrying about her. I think I'd be more worried about those poor bastards in Morris Heights if they ever cross her.”

Allison helped up the three lightly injured officers and apologized to them while they nodded in acceptance of the apology. As the officers walked away, Allison approached Brian and Tommy.

“How'd I do?”

“That was a performance beyond words, Allison. It'll require some finesse on my part, but I think you're ready for a little infiltration. Makeup can take care of your skin tone. How's your Spanish?”

Suficientemente fluida para haber nacido hablarlo.” replied Allison cleverly in a perfect quick-fire Hispanic dialect as opposed to the Castillian dialect of Spain taught in most American high schools.

Brian smiled, as did Tommy. “In other words, top-notch.” said Tommy. “Let's go back to the station, I have to present the captain with this plan.”


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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by MP5 on Mon 15 Feb 2010 - 3:00

After seeing Rusty-spring's style, I wanted to do a review:

Allison's Top Gear Fan Review: Crossover vehicles and "Utes"



["Intermission" from Monty Python and the Holy Grail plays in the background as cut shot after cut shot of various Crossover Utility Vehicles appears on-screen: A Mazda CX-9, a Lexus RX, a Mitsubishi Outlander, and a Nissan Murano. Allison then begins her voiceover as various other crossover vehicles appear on-screen]


Allison: You've probably seen them everywhere by now, and they're only growing in number. Americans refer to these as "Crossover Utility Vehicles", or simply, "Crossovers." Not exactly cars, not exactly SUVs, not exactly people carriers, either, these amorphous pieces of transportation have nevertheless become the latest chariots for "soccer moms," middle-aged men who have given up on having any excitement in their lives, and vain suburbanites from Chelsea who want a tough-looking car, but intend to keep it on asphalt 99.9 percent of the time.



[Cut to a shot of Allison behind the wheel of a Subaru Baja, idly cruising along the test track]


Allison: However, Crossovers in general are quite diverse. They lean towards both ends of the scale. Some are more car-like, others, more like Sport Utilities or pickups. Subaru is a company that has managed to stand somewhere primarily very near the center with their crossovers, and they have been doing this since 1978, when they first released the largely forgettable Subaru BRAT. What I have right now, however, is their more pickup-like Baja, which once again straddles the intersection between car, pickup, and SUV. Much of its body is derived from the Subaru Legacy Outback, which is an estate wagon with hiking boots. But unlike the Legacy Outback, the Baja has a bed in the back, much like a pickup truck. So you can haul bags of fertilizer, bicycles, and flat-pack Swedish furniture. Unlike a typical pickup, this doesn't have a very big bed, however, and Subaru have kindly engineered the vehicle so that you could fold down the rear seats and added a fold-down hatch to get more room in case you're hauling something bigger, like lumber, or Piers Morgan's ego. And unlike a pickup truck, you are not so high up off the ground you need an oxygen bottle and altimeter, and it won't threaten to tumble-dry you if you take a corner at speed. [she takes a corner while on the gas to emphasize her point.] Yet like a pickup truck, it's rugged enough that you can take it off-road, and if you happen to be a warlord in Central Africa, that bed back there [cut to shot of empty bed] is big enough to comfortably seat a man in a bolted-down lawn chair at the trigger of an M240 or PKM machine gun mounted on the back-most area of the roof.



[Cut to full outside view of the Baja as it keeps up with the camera vehicle before accelerating away. Another voiceover from Allison]



Allison: What we have here then, is a Japanese Leatherman tool. There aren't a whole lot of real-world situations that will flummox this, and it doesn't sacrifice one ability for another. It can ford low-level bodies of water, it can haul stuff you need moved, and it can carry 4-5 people in relative comfort. With its 165 horsepower 4-cylinder boxer engine, it had hustle when you needed it, and a 2004 turbocharged model increased horsepower to 210. The Baja, in this respect, was a jack of all trades.



[The Baja comes to a stop, and Allison opens the door, looking at the camera to continue speaking.]




Allison: Sadly however, despite its robustness and utilitarian ability, it didn't really catch on, and production was stopped in 2006. In the face of pickup-driving outdoorsmen, self-important suburbanites, and soccer moms, the rather minor kayaking and mountain-biking crowd it catered to ended up getting left in the cold. So much, then, for combining a car's handling and performance with the usefulness of a pickup.



[Fade to black, then screen reveals a Chevrolet 'bowtie' badge for a few seconds as Allison continues with a voiceover. "Frankenstein" by The Edgar Winter Group begins playing.]




Allison: The idea of cross-breeding a car with a pickup truck is nothing new, however. In America, the late 1960's through 1980's saw the appearance of an iconic crossover.




[Full shot of the vehicle in question, a 1969 Chevrolet El Camino SS. Camera pans over its front fascia, its profile, and a top-down view from bonnet to tailgate.]




Allison: This is the Chevrolet El Camino. A special badge on it says 'SS'. It's part of the "Super Sport" Line, and this means that this is a classic Chevrolet muscle car.



[cut to Allison driving the El Camino down a runway, the rumble of the V8 audible at cruising speed, then cut to in-car camera Allison speaks, occasionally looking at the camera.]




Allison: This El Camino SS sports a 454 cubic-inch LS6 big-block engine that put out roughly 450 horsepowers, which allowed this sort of 'pickup-car' to do a standing quarter-mile in just under 14 seconds with a speed of 105 miles per hour. 105! Try that in a Lexus RX, soccer mom!




[fade to a shot of a makeshift drag strip. Allison lines up against a Subaru Forester STI. Cut to in-car shot]



Allison: In fact, this Forester STI next to me is a turbocharged, 265-horsepower estate wagon with the guts of the Subaru Impreza WRX STI. It is most likely the highest-performance crossovers you can find today. But it's still no match for this El Camino. [she grins, revving the engine. Deep Purple's "Highway Star" begins to play.]



[Off to the side, Rico, in a white lab coat, waves a green flag. In a flurry of tire smoke, the El Camino takes off, as does the Forester. However, the Subaru is quickly bested by the El Camino. A voiceover by Allison follows.]




Allison: As you can see, the El Camino undoubtedly has muscle car prowess. But like many muscle cars of the era, you had muscle car handling.



[The El Camino attempts to make a turn; it understeers widely. Allison struggles to correct it, but it starts to veer into the grass, and she backs off the throttle. In-car camera on Allison]




Allison: It's also uglier than your average muscle car. Most muscle cars were macho four-seater jobs that had their own masculine beauty to them. With the El Camino, you had a freak of nature that tried to compensate with raw power and utility. However, those were two things more suited to an actual pickup truck than a muscle car.



[The El Camino drives into the distance as Allison finishes her narrative on the El Camino. The camera slowly fades to black.]




Allison: To add further insult to injury, power actually fell drastically with the El Camino as the oil crisis set in. And by 1987, with actual pickup trucks selling better than this American iteration of what Aussies call the 'ute', the El Camino was dropped from the Chevrolet lineup.



[Cut to new shot of Allison inside a more modern car interior, with a sour look on her face.]




Allison: Unfortunately, the Americans have a bad habit of trying failed ideas a second time, in the hopes that re-hashed 'retro' styling will sell a car. This is a result of that strategy.




[The camera vehicle brings her machine into view: a Chevrolet SSR. Cut back to in-car camera.]



Allison: This... abomination, is known as the Chevrolet SSR. And it's another attempt to cross-breed a sports car with a utilitarian pickup truck. It's got aerodynamic styling, street tires sitting under bulging flared fenders, and if you look at it from a distance, it actually looks like a sports car, especially when you fold down its powered hardtop. Thats right, it's a Roadster, too! At least, it tries to be.




[Cue voiceover as shots follow the SSR though turns and powerslides that turn into spin-outs.]



Allison: Sadly however, this is far removed from any decent sports car, and despite its 5.3-liter V8, it only produced 300 horsepower, had a mediocre naught-to-60 time of 7.7 seconds, and was almost three seconds slower than an El Camino SS in the quarter mile, with a speed of 86.4 miles per hour. Its design, like the Ford SVT Lightning and Dodge Ram SRT-10 pickup trucks, meant that you had to sacrifice carrying ability for speed or vice versa, with its permanent tonneau cover over the flatbed in the back behind the hardtop's storage space. And because of that ridiculous hardtop, you couldn't carry all that much in the bed, anyway.



[Cut to in-car camera]




Allison: So then, it's as ugly as the El Camino, less powerful, and less useful. GM isn't doing too well, at this point. I have found enough reasons to hate this car, and I should like to get rid of it now.



[Allison pulls over, exits the SSR, and removes an AA-12 automatic shotgun from the trunk/bed. Walking some distance away from the SSR, she turns and proceeds to unload its 20-round drum on the SSR, its mixed load of FRAG-12 and 12-gauge buckshot shells utterly destroying the car. By the time the weapon is empty, the SSR is already a burning hulk. Allison then turns to the camera, the AA-12 casually slung over her shoulder.]




Allison: However, the SSR is an American idea. GM's subsidiaries in Australia just might have the cure.




[Cut to a panoramic shot of Allison holding a blue car-based 'Ute' in a tire-smoking drift around a corner, a wide grin plastered on her face. As she straightens out, cut to in-car shot. Bloc Party's "Helicopter" is playing.]




Allison Now, this is more like it! This is the Holden HSV Maloo R8. It's an honest-to-goodness Ute from the land down under. It has a 6.2-liter V8 that puts out 419 horsepower with an electronically-limited top speed of 155 miles per hour. Think of it this way. If the El Camino was a girl, she'd play tonsil hockey with you. Exciting, but it leaves you wanting more. The Maloo, on the other hand, reaches into your trousers and starts fiddling around in ways that make you go-- [Allison mimics an orgasmic groan].



[Cut to shot of the Maloo taking a corner--sideways. Follow up more shots of successive drifts linked together as the Maloo proceeds down the runway. Allison gives another voiceover.]




Allison: Furthermore, the Maloo is capable of taking a corner with grace, even if it is through sideways hooliganism. It may be another muscle car, but it's one that the Australians designed, so their muscle cars know what a turn is. Unlike the SSR, the Maloo doesn't have a ridiculous fold-down hardtop, nor does it try to mimic a roadster, so despite the rather annoying tonneau cover not letting you carry tall things, it can still carry more than that stupid SSR. And if you're not carrying anything in the back, well, you have a perfect drift machine at your disposal.




[cut back to in-car camera]




Allison: The Maloo is an absolute blast to drive. For people like me, who love taking corners in perpendicular fashion, it's an indulgence. [She grins widely] Here we go!




[Allison throws the Maloo into another long slide, producing a long plume of white smoke from the tires as her concluding voiceover comes in]




Allison: So, as the world of crossovers continues to expand and transcend classification, there will probably be something for everyone. If you're an outdoorsman with a taste for utility, get the Subaru Baja [Cut to shot of the Baja cruising and then taking a corner]. If you're concerned about your image in your picket-fence neighborhood as you shuttle your children from home to school to soccer practice [Cut to shot of an Acura RDX], get an Acura RDX. But if you want fun in a tire-smoking, object-holding package...



[Parting shot of the Maloo making a fly-by of the camera vehicle]



Allison: Listen out for the thunder from down under.


Last edited by MP5 on Mon 15 Feb 2010 - 22:14; edited 2 times in total

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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by Alfisti on Mon 15 Feb 2010 - 3:58

Haha, awesome TG segment.

Now Allison needs to try the standard Maloo "handling package"... two bags of the heavy thing of your choice (usually concrete or sand) strapped down in the back of the tray

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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by MP5 on Mon 15 Feb 2010 - 4:10

@Alfisti wrote:Haha, awesome TG segment.

Now Allison needs to try the standard Maloo "handling package"... two bags of the heavy thing of your choice (usually concrete or sand) strapped down in the back of the tray

Heh, she's a sucker for tail-out action, though. quite a bit of her allowance/salary goes to tires.

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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by Alfisti on Mon 15 Feb 2010 - 4:50

@MP5 wrote:
Heh, she's a sucker for tail-out action, though. quite a bit of her allowance/salary goes to tires.

So I gathered from her Mazda antics... I guess option two could always be one in full race trim, which seem to be perfectly happy traveling sideways:


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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by Kiskaloo on Mon 15 Feb 2010 - 11:20

Brilliant stuff.

The "review format" rusty-spring created really makes these stories "pop" in a way that a pure narrative form could not.

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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by MP5 on Mon 15 Feb 2010 - 12:09

@Kiskaloo wrote:Brilliant stuff.

The "review format" rusty-spring created really makes these stories "pop" in a way that a pure narrative form could not.

He's definitely set a standard for us, I think, and if you're gonna do a fictional Top Gear-style review, Rusty's Method is the best way to go.

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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by MP5 on Sun 18 Apr 2010 - 21:24


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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by Professor Voodoo on Sun 25 Apr 2010 - 17:12


Saved it...I'm headed back out to work tomorrow morning so now I'll have something to read while I'm off shift. Looking forward to it.
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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by Professor Voodoo on Sat 8 May 2010 - 0:39

I've finished chapter 3...and I like it so far. I wasn't sure about the jumping timeline, but it works well and doesn't distract much. Finally learning some of Allison's background (such as her first mission) was another highlight.

Looking forward to the next installment.

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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by MP5 on Sat 8 May 2010 - 6:48

@Professor Voodoo wrote:I've finished chapter 3...and I like it so far. I wasn't sure about the jumping timeline, but it works well and doesn't distract much. Finally learning some of Allison's background (such as her first mission) was another highlight.

Looking forward to the next installment.

Thanks. Next installment's more of a 'compound life' and 'Introduce the other characters' type of deal. We don't go too much into their backgrounds... yet. But we do see what classes she does take, among other things.

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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by Professor Voodoo on Wed 14 Jul 2010 - 6:28

Chapter 4...A "Day in the Life of Allison," very nice. The highlights for me include:

Allison's morning guitar practice on the roof. You don't typically think of guitarists as early risers (at least the ones I've known) but hey...cyborgs are weird.

The classroom scene; I think the moments when everything is not going 100% great for your characters show much more about their personality than the happy moments.

Alessandro took the dry erase marker and wrote "Self Study" on the whiteboard
I got a laugh out of this because I compared it to my "Shakespeare in the Dorm" story, wherein Sandro is writing on a chalkboard. I suppose those are a thing of the past...your version is much more up to date.

Allison's daydreaming about cars does get a bit long winded (although it's all I ever did in class), but I like how you have she & Kara disagree about what to do with an Alfa 124. Their debate is sharply opinionated, but cordial, making the scene a lot of fun to read.

The little hints of interest between Jay & Allison are fun, seeing as we've already seen where this is going.
retained experience in racing through most of her previous life as Shelby Mercer (not that she remembers those days).
A little tense confusion here...you might want to go with (...remembered those days).

I liked the reference to Elio's M3...I have an upcoming episode where Allison & Kara both get to drive it.
Allison paired up with Laine Stanaway, who like herself, was of British origin.
In your "universe" do the cyborgs know where they were originally from?
they had been working on a Formula SAE racer
Ah...a much more sensible creation than the GSX-R engined go-kart from the forum thread (that much horsepower with no differential?). That air restrictor must really choke things down considering the Hayabusa it got its engine from can break 100mph in first gear. In any case it sounds like fun...forget the cyborgs, I'd like to try one of those!
The African-American girl walked over to Allison
Wouldn't Annette be African-Italian?

Matthew was a bit of a twit but I admit I laughed during his scenes. As things moved to the track I'm afraid I got pretty confused...you threw a lot of new characters into the mix in a short period of time.

The common area room is a good idea. I'm always looking for settings that bring a lot of characters together for interaction.

Erina...is she the same DJ character from the US road trip collaborative?

All-in-all a cool look into an average day at the SWA compound. I look forward to the next installment!

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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by MP5 on Wed 14 Jul 2010 - 18:56

@Professor Voodoo wrote:

The little hints of interest between Jay & Allison are fun, seeing as we've already seen where this is going.
Yes, once the RPG is done, I'm actually going to sit on publishing it as a story to Fanfiction.net until I get to that point.

In your "universe" do the cyborgs know where they were originally from?
Not really--this is just exposition on their origins, though some are clued in whereas others aren't, depending on the discretion of their handlers. Brian will actually have a talk with Allison when the issue is pressing enough.

Wouldn't Annette be African-Italian?

As to that, no. Annette is of U.S. Origin. Her handler is Israeli-American, as well.


Matthew was a bit of a twit but I admit I laughed during his scenes. As things moved to the track I'm afraid I got pretty confused...you threw a lot of new characters into the mix in a short period of time.
I'll admit, I didn't think about that. Kyo, Ryo, and Jennifer are central characters in the next chapter, though, as it is a collaborative operation taking place.



Erina...is she the same DJ character from the US road trip collaborative?
She certainly is. DJ-ing is her hobby, and as you might imagine, she's supposed to be quite excellent with it, although given the nature of her work, she doesn't really have much of a chance to 'make it big'.

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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by MP5 on Sun 3 Oct 2010 - 21:06

Chapter 5 of Tire Tracks and Spent Casings is out now!

Oh, and there's fanservice. just FYI.

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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by Professor Voodoo on Tue 26 Oct 2010 - 8:31

[quote]Chapter 5: Pace Notes (Part 1)
"Fitzgibbons, McDonnell, the specialties of your fratelli will be most essential to this operation." began Lorenzo.[/quote] Specialties can be a double edged sword..you get to do what you're good at, but every lousy mission that comes along involving your specialty winds up on your plate.
You've certainly jumped right into plot exposition with no hesitation here.
"Pop by Q-branch before your fratelli start training for the most key part of this operation, they'll have what you need in advance." said Jean.
Minor note; would Jean Croce really call the Weapons/Technology Division Q-branch? That seems more like an informal joke and Jean usually isn't very informal.
"Well now, you're going to make it happen in real life, and if Marisa could come up with an outlandish plan that worked, then I see no reason as to why we cannot take refuge in audacity, either." replied Lorenzo calmly.
Bad influence that girl...even on the Chief.
"Wanna try the real thing?" asked Brian..."All right! I can't wait to start practicing!"
An characteristically exuberant response from Allison, in fact I wouldn't be surprised to see her even more excited by the promise of such a mission.
Cipriani pulled the cloth cover off to reveal a 1999 Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution VI Tommi Makinen Edition.
A nice choice...I like that you selected a Mitsubishi from the era when they were actually competing, rather than a newer one with no racing pedigree.
"Pretty good, but I think the Evo could stand to have an increase in boost pressure. Also, I would tweak the spring rates for quicker bounce recovery. I was already at the next turn, and the car still had not recovered completely after taking a crest. I would also stiffen the suspension, she has a serious tendency to dive under braking."
More power! Spoken like a true 17 year old.
Aside from this passage there is little about the adjustments Allison makes fine tuning the car...only the dampener rebound rates and spring pre-load is mentioned. Considering how much detail you usually go into about cars I'm surprised.
"While Playboy is considered adult literature, it's good reading for the articles. People just tend to focus on the T&A. It's called a 'gentleman's magazine' because it's not all naked women; it's got articles about life, how to live it, and the style in which successful men with a zest for life go about their lives."
Good point...I personally enjoy the social-political articles, although the 'lifestyle" articles tend to be a bit faddish. The T& A is very nice as well, as I'm sure Ike can testify.
"I mean that, Issac. You will not be lingering on pictures of naked women when you have essays to write, got it?"
"Yes, Michael."
Is there a photocopier in the boy's dorm perhaps?
she passed a younger cyborg whose red hair was braided into pigtails, and most notably, was currently trudging in the direction of the gym wearing a solid-colored hockey jersey over pads and carrying her helmet, a pair of roller blades, and her hockey stick.
"Hey Marisa. Big game tonight?" asked Allison.
You know, it doesn't fit into my own universe, but for your more American influenced stories that's a perfect sport for Marisa...you really know her character.
" you're welcome to try a substitute with some sort of car carrier or something."
"Isn't that sort of risky?" asked Brian.
They just drove up into a moving airplane and Brian is concerned about risky? The SWA really has twisted his perspective on things.
"Well don't beat them too badly, Allie." said Kyo. "Otherwise, you might kill the hopes of some promising young drivers."
"No promises."
Kyo has a point...Italy hasn't had a World Rally Champion since Biasion back in the days of Allison's Delta Intergrale (1988 & 89).
"So long, farewell, Auf wiedersehen, goodbye~!" sang Allison as she shifted into fifth gear.
Triela: Oh, hell no! Rico & Henrietta have finally stopped singing musical numbers from The Wizard of Oz, don't you start with The Sound of Music,Allison!
Brian lay atop the hood of his RS6, smoking his occasional Camel Turkish Jade.
I didn't know Brian smoked. This is actually pretty useful to the story I'm working on right now.
"McDonnell, we need help! We're fucking stranded out here!" Tompkins yelled back. "Covington, any luck with the engine?"
"I think I almost got it! It should fire on the next tr-"
A lone round streaked through the bullet-resistant glass and impacted the driver's left temple.
Intense flashback, particularly the section I quoted. I see why Brian needs the occasional cigarette.
"Looting dead bodies is not an honest way to make money, even if the people it belonged to are terrorists." chided Brian. "If you're not careful, that's going to become a habit."
"I'm a petrolhead, Brian. I always want to make my cars go that much faster, and I'll always be that way."
I like this income source for Allison far more than the "V-8 Snowblower" idea...even if she does run the risk of getting busted someday (a-la Robert's Wham, Bang Fizz, POW). I do relate though...working a crappy job and spending every spare dime on making your car faster, fun times.
"Well then, 'Miss Petrolhead', you need to get to bed. You've got more training to do tomorrow, and you still need to read 'The Stranger'.
As I've said before, Brian & Allison fit the "brother-sister" fratello mold better than any other pair, canon or OC. Still, it's good to see Brian gently flex his authority now and then.
"I'm back, guys. Did ya miss me?"
Barking happily at his feet were his four legged friends—Stirling the Boston Terrier, Colin the Pembroke Welsh Corgi, and Jackie the Jack Russell Terrier. As they yipped about at his feet excitedly,
Clever touch...I think he's the only handler with pets waiting for him at home (Giuse has fish in his office and there's Fernando's cat Meeshie of course, but they all live on-compound). Does Allison know about them? I suppose with her cyborg senses it would be hard for her not to smell them on his clothes. Cool names for them by the way.
Allison's mind brought her into a strange dream:
Good timing...I had to re-write a sentence about Allison's dreams in my episode 15 after reading this. I wasn't too far off in my guess though.
Allison paid little attention, reflecting on the dream she'd had the previous night.
She remembers it?
"Sparknotes." replied Kara with a smile.
Are those like Cliff Notes? A summary of the book with pertinent points highlighted and explained...intended for people who didn't do their homework? Either way, funny exchange.
With the blow of a whistle, Allison, Kara, Chiara, and Silvia leapt from their starting blocks into the 25-meter swimming pool in front of them,
Silvia (and by extension Beatrice) isn't dead yet in your timeline?
Marisa noisily challenged the Afrikaner to a one-on-one rematch.
Again, you've got her character nailed. Since she's conditioned to be like a fish in water I wonder if they don't make Marisa tow a handicapping buoy behind her while racing.
Allison and articulated lorries (also called Semi-trucks, tractor trailers, big rigs, etc.) never mixed well. In her former life as Shelby Mercer, Allison had always been nervous around these hulking workhorses of the road, and it had been one of these massive machines that was responsible for taking her family from her and nearly ending her own life.
In one of the forum threads you suggested that Elio (as a resident expert on cyborg anxiety issues) was helping Brian & Allison work through her lorry fears. I've actually written a scene which deals with that, but it doesn't fit into any of my upcoming stories. If you like I could PM it to you and you might find some use for it.
Since then, the two have worked together to lessen Allison's fear of the vehicles
A little past/present tense confusion there...shouldn't it be had worked together?
as she approached the dirty car trailer that was in need of a wash, for a split second, the ramps on which cars would rest transformed into metallic teeth waiting to chew up Allison's Lancer with her still inside, a ravenous monster whose jaws opened and closed in robotic fashion, the dirt now turning into dried blood, and with every inch closer that Allison got to the trailer, the jaws of doom only worked faster and faster, as if to match Allison's quickening pulse.
Really strong imagery there! Very dramatic to see Allison facing her biggest fear.
"Bring 'em on." said Allison, opening the door and gazing at the setting sun. "Bring on the mission and bring on the competition, I'm so ready for this!"
Excellent job. Your talent for mixing a mission story with snippets of day to day life at the SWA Compound is a real highlight. As Allison says...Bring it on (the next chapter that is)!

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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by MP5 on Sat 6 Nov 2010 - 23:27

@Professor Voodoo wrote: Specialties can be a double edged sword..you get to do what you're good at, but every lousy mission that comes along involving your specialty winds up on your plate.
You've certainly jumped right into plot exposition with no hesitation here.
Well, I had no idea how to faff about creatively before hand, so...
@Professor Voodoo wrote:Minor note; would Jean Croce really call the Weapons/Technology Division Q-branch? That seems more like an informal joke and Jean usually isn't very informal.
I think it would stand to reason that if a term gets bandied about enough, even the most serious of men will play it into common usage.
@Professor Voodoo wrote:
"Well now, you're going to make it happen in real life, and if Marisa could come up with an outlandish plan that worked, then I see no reason as to why we cannot take refuge in audacity, either." replied Lorenzo calmly.
Bad influence that girl...even on the Chief.
Wanted to tie it in somehow, though now I know at this point when I get to the Venice clusterfuck, I completely break the established OC timeline. and I know that there will be backlash for it, more so considering how I plan to have it end, but I'm gonna do it anyway.
@Professor Voodoo wrote:A nice choice...I like that you selected a Mitsubishi from the era when they were actually competing, rather than a newer one with no racing pedigree.
I thought it would be appropriate. the newer Evo's are more popular for Road Racing and Autocross stuff.
@Professor Voodoo wrote:
"Pretty good, but I think the Evo could stand to have an increase in boost pressure. Also, I would tweak the spring rates for quicker bounce recovery. I was already at the next turn, and the car still had not recovered completely after taking a crest. I would also stiffen the suspension, she has a serious tendency to dive under braking."
More power! Spoken like a true 17 year old. Aside from this passage there is little about the adjustments Allison makes fine tuning the car...only the dampener rebound rates and spring pre-load is mentioned. Considering how much detail you usually go into about cars I'm surprised.
If I tried to go into detail, it would be a lot of technobabble, and Allison's not the one touching it, the boffins at Q-branch are. Aside from that, my primary job at my shop is 'Hygiene Technician' (read: cleaning bitch). they don't let me do any serious work on cars since I'm not ASE-certified. If I tried anything here, it'd probably all be stuff I took from Gran Turismo.

@Professor Voodoo wrote:
"I mean that, Issac. You will not be lingering on pictures of naked women when you have essays to write, got it?"
"Yes, Michael."
Is there a photocopier in the boy's dorm perhaps?
Probably not... Ike's also the type who would probably waste all the paper and toner making 500 or more copies of his ass while giggling in most juvenile fashion.
@Professor Voodoo wrote:You know, it doesn't fit into my own universe, but for your more American influenced stories that's a perfect sport for Marisa...you really know her character.
Oh, Becky is to blame for that... She introduced the sport to the SWA, and it hasn't been the same since. they only started wearing mouthguards when the docs begun to get overwhelmed by the amount of dental work they had to do.

@Professor Voodoo wrote:
" you're welcome to try a substitute with some sort of car carrier or something."
"Isn't that sort of risky?" asked Brian.
They just drove up into a moving airplane and Brian is concerned about risky? The SWA really has twisted his perspective on things.
We are talking about someone who also used to jump out of perfectly good airplanes for a living... and I didn't consider it at the time, but this could also play into the whole "Allison haet Lorries" thing.

@Professor Voodoo wrote:
"So long, farewell, Auf wiedersehen, goodbye~!" sang Allison as she shifted into fifth gear.
Triela: Oh, hell no! Rico & Henrietta have finally stopped singing musical numbers from The Wizard of Oz, don't you start with The Sound of Music,Allison!
Brian: Perhaps this isn't the best time to mention that we also went to see 'Thoroughly Modern Millie' while we were with my cousin in New York...

Voodoo, I actually might make something similar to 'Shakespeare in the Dorm' regarding this musical. and just to give you an idea of what it's gonna be like...


@Professor Voodoo wrote:
"Sparknotes." replied Kara with a smile.
Are those like Cliff Notes? A summary of the book with pertinent points highlighted and explained...intended for people who didn't do their homework? Either way, funny exchange.
Basically an online version of Cliff's Notes. Very popular among my Senior class.
@Professor Voodoo wrote:
With the blow of a whistle, Allison, Kara, Chiara, and Silvia leapt from their starting blocks into the 25-meter swimming pool in front of them,
Silvia (and by extension Beatrice) isn't dead yet in your timeline?
Not yet... My timeline has the Venice fiasco occurring later on.
@Professor Voodoo wrote: In one of the forum threads you suggested that Elio (as a resident expert on cyborg anxiety issues) was helping Brian & Allison work through her lorry fears. I've actually written a scene which deals with that, but it doesn't fit into any of my upcoming stories. If you like I could PM it to you and you might find some use for it.
By all means, PM away!

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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by Robert Frazer on Sun 7 Nov 2010 - 0:07

hough now I know at this point when I get to the Venice clusterfuck, I completely break the established OC timeline.

Eh, to be quite honest I don't really bother trying to maintain a timeline any more. I know that that sounds like grave blasphemy for someone who's a self-confessed continuity nut, but it's simply impossible to keep to it anymore. Kiskaloo made a good effort at referencing cars and background architecture to suggest that events of the manga occured between 2004-6, only for Yu to go and spoil it by including machines and other details that went far beyond that - even having more modern aeroplanes in pre-Ch.1 flashbacks. I've referenced other fancharacters in my stories, but haven't paid any heed to their authors' own perception on where they stood in the timeline. My stories have relative continuity to each other - A definitely occured before B - but disregard specific dates as impossible to reliably define.

Maybe I'm not taking the most rigidly disciplined approach to this matter, and could be more particular about timelines... but, seeing as every fanfiction writer I've seen both here and elsewhere also conveniently ignores Henrietta being reconditioned after St. Marks', I think it's safe to say that the canon has been well and truly spiked. We're all just floating in a fuzzy "Generic Modern" fog. There is only one year - 200X. Forge your own path through it!

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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by Alfisti on Sun 7 Nov 2010 - 13:15

@MP5 wrote:
@Professor Voodoo wrote:Minor note; would Jean Croce really call the Weapons/Technology Division Q-branch? That seems more like an informal joke and Jean usually isn't very informal.
I think it would stand to reason that if a term gets bandied about enough, even the most serious of men will play it into common usage.
I'd be inclined to agree with this, common useage does tend to cement a term or phrase in a culture, be it corporate or national. I also imagine though that J+M would be exceptions, partly through not being around enough to get used to it. More likely though it would be Jethro's way of differentiating it from what he'd (and by extention Monty would) consider to be the real Q-branch. Jethro probably didn't get along with that one any better than he does the SWA version, but you know... standards. Razz

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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by Professor Voodoo on Sun 7 Nov 2010 - 14:44

@Robert Frazer wrote:
every fanfiction writer I've seen both here and elsewhere also conveniently ignores Henrietta being reconditioned after St. Marks',
We can use the convenient exuse that we have not yet seen where Yu is taking this plot line, but honestly I think it has more to do with nobody wanting to lose a useful character.

When the chapter was released I am confident that there was a great wailing and gnashing of teeth amongst die-hard fans of Henrietta, but I will applaud Yu's bravery in making such a drastic move. It's a dead horse I've beaten before; but characters are the tools in a storyteller's toolbox...you can't be afraid to use them.

That said...I don't think we've seen the last of "old" Henrietta...we'll just have to stand by and watch where Yu is taking this plot line.

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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by Kiskaloo on Sun 7 Nov 2010 - 14:49

@Robert Frazer wrote:
hough now I know at this point when I get to the Venice clusterfuck, I completely break the established OC timeline.

Eh, to be quite honest I don't really bother trying to maintain a timeline any more.

Yeah, with Pactio I am starting in Volume 9 of the manga and just moving it to 2010 instead of 2005.


@Robert Frazer wrote:Maybe I'm not taking the most rigidly disciplined approach to this matter, and could be more particular about timelines... but, seeing as every fanfiction writer I've seen both here and elsewhere also conveniently ignores Henrietta being reconditioned after St. Marks', I think it's safe to say that the canon has been well and truly spiked.

I went around and around with it for Pactio, but have decided that I will touch on both that and Jose losing his eye.

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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by ElfenMagix on Sun 7 Nov 2010 - 16:29

@Professor Voodoo wrote:
@Robert Frazer wrote:
every fanfiction writer I've seen both here and elsewhere also conveniently ignores Henrietta being reconditioned after St. Marks',
We can use the convenient exuse that we have not yet seen where Yu is taking this plot line, but honestly I think it has more to do with nobody wanting to lose a useful character.

When the chapter was released I am confident that there was a great wailing and gnashing of teeth amongst die-hard fans of Henrietta, but I will applaud Yu's bravery in making such a drastic move. It's a dead horse I've beaten before; but characters are the tools in a storyteller's toolbox...you can't be afraid to use them.

That said...I don't think we've seen the last of "old" Henrietta...we'll just have to stand by and watch where Yu is taking this plot line.
In my defense, I started writing the current story(ies) long before 'St. Marks'. Though the time lines are after 'St. Marks.' in UN Resolution, I put up my hands and say its a Temporal Anomaly.

I'll even through in that many other stories by other writers here were also started before 'St. Marks' or have not read that chapter yet (Especially Since Its Not Been translated YET!). Most of us who have seen the pretty pictures, are aware of the events and nothing more.

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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by Professor Voodoo on Sun 7 Nov 2010 - 17:29

@ElfenMagix wrote:
I put up my hands and say its a Temporal Anomaly.
Incidentally, that's the exact same excuse Rachel used the last time she didn't finish her homework for Ms. Priscilla's mathematics class.

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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by MP5 on Tue 7 Dec 2010 - 2:43

Chapter 6 of Tire Tracks and Spent Casings is now up!

In this chapter...

  • Brian pretends to be Allison's boyfriend...
  • Allison makes a rival on the rally course...
  • ...and Kyo and Ryo rain down death from above.

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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by Professor Voodoo on Tue 7 Dec 2010 - 3:07

@MP5 wrote:Chapter 6 of Tire Tracks and Spent Casings is now up!
Just yesterday I was wondering when we'd see the next installment. Saved...reading tonight.

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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by MP5 on Fri 10 Dec 2010 - 12:00

made a few revisions to chapter 6, fixing some spelling errors and revising dialogue.

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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by theprodigalson on Fri 10 Dec 2010 - 14:29

Great read MP5! You already have my take on it, so suffice it to say I look foreward to the next one.

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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by Professor Voodoo on Mon 13 Dec 2010 - 3:01

Chapter 6: Pace Notes (Part 2)
"I don't think I'm ready for this." said Allison nervously as she and Brian arrived at the staging area of the Concorso di Rivalba
I really like the way you've presented nervous Allison. I picture her pacing around, charged up, talking too much...maintaining the high level of energy she exibits during her more confident moments.
an official flagged them down to a spot marked "O'BRIEN-WELLINGTON," the same names that were printed on the window of their Lancer.
I'll have to remember their undercover names. They're not playing the brother-sister card this time? There's a Canadian brother-sister pair that runs the North American Rally championship (Pat & Natalie Richard).
That's amazing! But just so you know, I've actually heard stories of men and women who came to this rally as couples and left the rally separately."
Kind of like the video of Ricardo Patrese & his wife in the Random Media thread...
Toyota Hilux pickup truck
A good choice; something actually available in Italy rather than a more American choice.
"So what's the story for Allison this time?" asked Jennifer.
Seems like that would be a good thing to know ahead of time.
"She's Madison O'Brien, 22 years old, does rallying as a hobby, been doing it for the past two years in a few different places." Brian replied.

"And you?"

"Why, I'm her Co-driver/boyfriend Connor Wellington, 27 years old, and been reading pace notes for Madison ever since we started dating.
Isn't Brian almost 40 years old? Bit of a stretch...or has Sandro Rissi given him one masterpiece of a makeup job?

As for Allison, I think acting 22 would be more of a challenge for her than looking the age.
"I insist, please." he replied, turning to the bartender. "Barista, due di Moretti, per favore!"
Giancarlo might be a dick, but that's a good choice. Best label design of any Italian beer too.
"I don't really drink, sorry." replied the brunette, setting her eating utensils to one side of her plate.
That must be painful for Allison to say.
"Madison O'Brien." replied Allison, already in character with a slight Irish lilt.
Should be easy to practice with her handler being from Ulster. In my own stories I've conjectured that the girls are all imprinted with Italian, and lose their former tongue after conditioning, but find it easy to recover the lost language as they are re-taught it in class...feeling déjà vu as if they're being reminded of something .
"Yeah, I see it. So you're a diehard Martini Racing fan. What of it?"
Allison: It's not fair! That car should be mine!!! He won't love it like I would!
The next day saw the qualifying round of the Concorso di Rivalba rally,
Enjoyable imagery during the in-car sequence.
"Check my engine and the rest of my car, give me a blood test; you won't find anything of the sort. I've simply been staying on the pedal longer."
Her somewhat defensive answer conveys Allison's that surprise is genuine much better than a witty comeback would have.
"I hate to say it, but I'm not too good at subterfuge and codeword." said Brian. "To think that finding you was based entirely on our tone of voice."
That line is a great cliché buster.
"So you folks are the rescue team?" asked Rossini,
Rossini does not display much surprise at the fact that 60% of his rescue team is too young to vote.
If I somehow perish in the next 36 hours, I would prefer that this gets to the Agency no matter what.
He is unselfishly committed though.
"You won't be saying that when I'm pouring champagne over your head tomorrow!"
Umm, Giancarlo, that's actually considered a compliment on the podium, not an insult. This guy is a bit clueless.
the Evo was off like a shot, wipers on and headlamps blazing as the tires bit into the muddy road, they threw up roostertails of mud in their wake.
Again, terrific imagery during the rally scenes.
As she looked ahead, she could spot someone standing in the middle of the road with a camera.

"Oh no, you fucking idiot, get out of the bloody road!" she said in alarm as she leaned on her horn in the hopes this shutterbug would get the hint.
This sort of thing became a serious problem in real-world rally a while back.
"Connor! Hang on!"

"What-"
Funny that she's so deep in character that she refers to Brian by his cover name even now.
"Allison, Allison, don't cry!" said Brian, trying to console his young companion. "Come on, you did great out there!"
He seems genuinely surprised by her reaction.
"I LOST!" wailed Allison in response, tears rolling down her cheeks. "I got all angry about defeating that Giancarlo guy and now I'm a loser who can't back up her words! Do you know how horrible that feels? If I'm supposed to be the best, then why can't I beat a jerk like him? I—I- uwaaaaaaaa! I'm-*sniff*-I'm sorry, Brian! I'm a-*hic*-fuh-failure and a l-loser and you deserve better than me!"
Distraught Allison is one of the comical highlights of the chapter. She's so manic & high strung in her everyday life that it makes perfect sense that she falls apart emotionally when the stress catches up with her (I tried to capture that in the 'dead puppy' scene in Sicily). Luckily, Brian knows just the right things to say.
"Come on, let's go get lunch." said Brian. "That is, unless you want to stick around and hear Giancarlo gloat?"

"Lunch sounds like a better winner than Giancarlo. Let's go eat."
Makes me wonder if we'll see Giancarlo in a future episode.
Brian slid together the upper receiver and the lower receiver,... Sliding the fire selector to safe position,
I'm afraid this passage about Brian assembling his weapon got way too detailed for me...it disrupts the tension you're trying to build before the climactic fire-fight.
He was tossed up onto the hood, his back and head slammed into the windshield as a result of the car's forward motion before rolling completely over the car and landing square on his back in the street, the force of the impact damaging his spine to the point of paralysis.
A grizzly reminder that not everyone involved in these battles dies.
Allison reached down towards the center console looking to deploy the rear-mounted X-Net traps that would quickly bring the blue BMW 3-series behind her to a screeching halt. However, her left hand ended up pawing around confusedly before she realized her folly—the X-Nets were only on the Delta!
When I came to this passage I fell for it hook, line & sinker...cringing and thinking if this Lancer is so competitive on the stage how could it have a cumbersome anti-pursuit device installed? It doesn't...you had that angle covered.
now shut up and keep shooting!"
Telling her handler to shut up? I'm surprised she didn't puke!
Brian blinked for a second. His younger charge was wild, impulsive, and did lots of things with cars that he could frankly live without experiencing,
I'd imagine it's not just with cars. Her guitar...welding equipment...caffeine...
"Muddy Mouse, this is Herky Bird! We're in position, over!" radioed Jennifer triumphantly.
The code-names are irreverently terrific.
She had seen the videos, played the video games, read the stories, knew the names. Biaison. Burns. Carlsson. The two Makinens. The late Colin McRae. Solberg. Sainz. Loeb.
I'm surprised she didn't also think of Michèle Mouton, winner of 4 World Championship rounds for Audi, as well as one-time holder of the absolute record at Pikes Peak. Perhaps as a cyborg she feels little affinity for another woman treading on her turf.

For the record, Richard Burns unfortunately falls into "the late" category as well...brain tumor in 2005.
Four minutes, twenty-six seconds elapsed since they entered the woods. After all that, Allison got her reward. The hum of four turboprop engines in unison was the most welcome sound to her ears as a...C-130 Hercules transport plane came barreling into the field ahead of them
Robert once said he'd like to fund a run of GsG anime episodes involving Cyborg Central OC's(should he ever becomes a millionaire) just so he could see scenes like this played out. The image of a huge cargo plane materializing out of the darkness is very cool.
Allison's enhanced vision could detect the IR strobes Kyo and Ryo were holding on either side of the cargo bay.
Clever use of her abilities.
"Hey man, we're golden." said Brian.

"We're... not dead?" asked Leonardo, opening his eyes.

"Far from it. We're alive and on a plane headed home." said Allison.
Not so fast!
"Okay, people, we have missile lock!
I'd gone and allowed myself to breathe a sigh of relief just like your characters. If that was your intent, mission accomplished.
The FLIR scope
FLIR makes weapons scopes too? I just had to install one of their IR cameras on a boat a few months ago. Cool camera...bitch to install.
"Is very bad, da?" said Yuri in rough English. "If Padanians get Strela missiles and bring them onto elevated structure—a bell tower, perhaps,

the thought of Triela, Henrietta, Beatrice, Chiara, Silvia, and all the others being shoved into a potential suicide mission unsettled her.
An interesting, foreshadowing peek into your time-line.
"I don't want to talk about it right now..." said Allison, yawning.
I'd someday love to see her explaining to Kara & the others how it went.
"Well, if you like touring car racing, we have this thing back in Oz called V8 Supercars..."
I take it she's planning on cleaning the plugs a bit?

Another great chapter...looking forward to the next!

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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by MP5 on Mon 13 Dec 2010 - 9:11

@Professor Voodoo wrote:
"So what's the story for Allison this time?" asked Jennifer.
Seems like that would be a good thing to know ahead of time.
They play it fast and loose, what can I say?
@Professor Voodoo wrote:
"She's Madison O'Brien, 22 years old, does rallying as a hobby, been doing it for the past two years in a few different places." Brian replied.

"And you?"

"Why, I'm her Co-driver/boyfriend Connor Wellington, 27 years old, and been reading pace notes for Madison ever since we started dating.
Isn't Brian almost 40 years old? Bit of a stretch...or has Sandro Rissi given him one masterpiece of a makeup job?
As for Allison, I think acting 22 would be more of a challenge for her than looking the age.
Brian might be 30, but he's one of those genetic cases where he looks younger than he actually is. It was a small detail I mentioned in his dossier/profile. Needless to say, he gets carded regularly.
@Professor Voodoo wrote:
"I don't really drink, sorry." replied the brunette, setting her eating utensils to one side of her plate.
That must be painful for Allison to say.
Not at this stage... not yet.She hasn't developed a taste for alcohol yet. But in due time, she will.
@Professor Voodoo wrote:
"So you folks are the rescue team?" asked Rossini,
Rossini does not display much surprise at the fact that 60% of his rescue team is too young to vote.
Well, when you're living next door to them most of the time, the shock kind of wears off.

@Professor Voodoo wrote:
"You won't be saying that when I'm pouring champagne over your head tomorrow!"
Umm, Giancarlo, that's actually considered a compliment on the podium, not an insult. This guy is a bit clueless.
Allison would take it as an insult. It means getting second place to this jackass.
@Professor Voodoo wrote:
Brian slid together the upper receiver and the lower receiver,... Sliding the fire selector to safe position,
I'm afraid this passage about Brian assembling his weapon got way too detailed for me...it disrupts the tension you're trying to build before the climactic fire-fight.
Sorry about that. I just figured it would be a practical way to store and carry the weapon, and he just goes through the steps methodically.
@Professor Voodoo wrote:
now shut up and keep shooting!"
Telling her handler to shut up? I'm surprised she didn't puke!
I will let things slide from time to time, and she didn't mean this with any degree of anger.
@Professor Voodoo wrote:
"I don't want to talk about it right now..." said Allison, yawning.
I'd someday love to see her explaining to Kara & the others how it went.
I will probably have it in the next chapter, and if not, definitely later on.
@Professor Voodoo wrote:
"Well, if you like touring car racing, we have this thing back in Oz called V8 Supercars..."
I take it she's planning on cleaning the plugs a bit?
A bit of friendly chat... we'll see something develop between Jennifer and Leonardo. As for cleaning the plugs, as much as she'd love to, she'll give 'the twins' the rest they deserve... they did fight off an anti-air threat.

Definitely look forward to the next chapter! It's a crossover with DC Comics' 'Rush City', though no reference will be made to anyone from the JLA-- it's gonna be played differently.


Last edited by MP5 on Wed 12 Jan 2011 - 23:03; edited 1 time in total

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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by ElfenMagix on Mon 13 Dec 2010 - 13:50

"You can't seriously expect me to let this go?" protested Allison.

"I can and will. I need your driving skills sharp for the extraction, don't waste them on some punk who's got an ego to maintain."

"But—I-" Allison began to protest, but then resigned disappointedly. "Yes, Brian."
A cyborg too much on her own independence in that she is thinking of something else other than her mission has something to worry about. Any such cyborg that acts outside of their mission/practice specs gets rewritten. It happened to Claes but not Henrietta because 'of a misunderstanding' at the firing range.

Allison is too luck to fall back into place easily. But in doing what she did, sent a red flag up in that she is going to be difficult to handle when such temptation falls on her face. And I can see her slip up in that she will make the wrong decision in another mission in the future if she does not straighten out. "Race or mission, race or mission... hell, Race! Not often I win but killing bad guys I do everyday..."

"Allison, Allison, don't cry!" said Brian, trying to console his young companion. "Come on, you did great out there!"

"I LOST!" wailed Allison in response, tears rolling down her cheeks. "I got all angry about defeating that Giancarlo guy and now I'm a loser who can't back up her words! Do you know how horrible that feels? If I'm supposed to be the best, then why can't I beat a jerk like him? I—I- uwaaaaaaaa! I'm-*sniff*-I'm sorry, Brian! I'm a-*hic*-fuh-failure and a l-loser and you deserve better than me!"
NO
Again, Allison is thinking too much on the race and not on the mission. A cyborg should cry for mission failure or handler injured on the mission, but not because of a "stupid race" she was supposed to infiltrate and not win... wasn't that her orders- infiltrate race and not win but capture/kill the bad guys? She really needs to be rewritten.

Sure, this maybe great on Allison's character development, but it also shows bad sportsmanship as well. You take your losses with your winnings, and you can only pride in yourself that you did the best you can regardless you win or fail. Racers, in fact all sports participants have been kicked off the tourney for bad sportsmanship. Its a risk of behavior one has to make. But as a cyborg, the only competition she should be concerned in winning is those missions she does with her handler because losing means the death of one or the other.

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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by Kiskaloo on Mon 13 Dec 2010 - 15:51

Speaking for myself, I'd rather have interesting character development than slavish devotion to Yu Aida's style, since I both have Yu Aida when I want "canon" and even he can't keep his story straight.

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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by ElfenMagix on Mon 13 Dec 2010 - 17:47

I say think about it. A cyborg who is not concentrating on her mission is going to get somebody on her team killed. Allison devotion to a race and not the mission at hand is a major character flaw as cyborgs go. The only competition here is completing a mission. The race was part of an infiltration task which she did well in infiltrating. But from this point, she took the race more serious than the mission.

Yu might not have his facts strait in his story, but there are constants on how cyborgs act and behave when on missions and when on free time. Allison's concern about the race and not the mission is a cybernetic fail.

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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by ElfenMagix on Mon 13 Dec 2010 - 18:58

Just in adding, there is a thing called Mission Mode.

It is based on observations of canon and OC behavior and their handler/agency actions that sets them on and off.

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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by ElfenMagix on Mon 13 Dec 2010 - 19:36

@Kiskaloo wrote:
@ElfenMagix wrote:Just in adding, there is a thing called Mission Mode.

It is based on observations of canon and OC behavior and their handler/agency actions that sets them on and off.

I think it's more Henrietta (and Claes, when she was practicing in the rain) just wanting to please their handlers.

And looking to both the anime and manga, we should remember that when they were preparing to ice the Chief of Police, Elsa was not paying attention to the mission, but instead watching Jose and Henrietta. And then there was Triela's actions in Volume 10 - she was very much not focused on the mission through most of that chapter. And Henrietta also deliberately walked on the edge of the sidewalk after Jean ordered Rico not to and I doubt very much that was for tactical advantage.
Excellent choices:
V10- Triela fell out of mission mode when she did not take her medication. Being on a low dose that Hillshire put her on, it would be easy for her to fall out of mission mode when she fails to take medication for 1 day. Thus her actions were not mission mode.

Henrietta walking on the sidewalk was Jose's fault for not telling her to get ready for a possible mission. In fact the whole demeanor of Jean and Jose was that of "ignore the girls, we got work to do." It was when the explosion happen did Henrietta went into mission mode and became more serious in her actions.

Elsa was already spiraling down into failure at this point. One key evidence in this is her facial expressions. In her attack on the hotel room, she had that angered-looks-could-kill look and was focused (though sloppy) in her attack. In the police chief assassination, she was not in mission mode, her expressions that of a innocent child who did not know what to do. And though she wanted to fulfill the mission, sh could not. Whether she was in mission mode and then fell out of it or was never in it, was from her failure that later kills the both of them. She was also too preoccupied with Henrietta and Jose since the target practice.

Again with Henrietta, he told her that she would need to learn this or become useless. Henrietta went into mission mode to learn what she has to do to be useful for Jose. The same thing happened in the restaurant, when the waiter picked up the knife and Henrietta pounced on him. When Jose ordered her to stand down, she still in mission mode.

Claes it seems was never in mission mode because she always had that wide-eyed expression for her time with Rabello. Only time she wasn't was when she tried to save him from Henrietta's wrath. After she was reprogrammed to be independent it seems that she goes in and out of it.

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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by MP5 on Mon 13 Dec 2010 - 19:58

Elfen, once again, that is my fault that I never really enforced any mission parameters. I just have a tendency to play fast and loose with the narrative in order to make a story that I enjoy writing and hope others will enjoy reading. Perhaps that is what is holding me back from being a writer as good as Kiskaloo or Voodoo or ChaosKin, but I'll see what I can do to rectify this sort of thing.

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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by ElfenMagix on Tue 14 Dec 2010 - 13:09

@MP5 wrote:Elfen, once again, that is my fault that I never really enforced any mission parameters. I just have a tendency to play fast and loose with the narrative in order to make a story that I enjoy writing and hope others will enjoy reading. Perhaps that is what is holding me back from being a writer as good as Kiskaloo or Voodoo or ChaosKin, but I'll see what I can do to rectify this sort of thing.
Like I said in the chat (and should have here), you have a great story here. My only issue is that one section that makes Allison look more interested in he race than her mission.

As you being a writer, you are up there with the lot of us. Descriptive scenes and dialogues makes a story real and this is what you have.

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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by Alfisti on Tue 14 Dec 2010 - 13:35

@ElfenMagix wrote:Like I said in the chat (and should have here), you have a great story here. My only issue is that one section that makes Allison look more interested in he race than her mission.
Yeah, but by the same token I think that is very Allison, to get "caught up in the moment" as it were. A character flaw for a cyborg yes (and possibly one for which someone's going to get in a lot of trouble for), but I think it's one that adds to her character as a whole rather than detracts.

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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by MP5 on Thu 28 Apr 2011 - 23:13

Chapter 7 of Tire Tracks and Spent Casings: Zero to Sixty in a New York Minute is now available.

Cue the music:
Spoiler:


In this chapter:
--Fermi and Gabrielli are on the run in the Big Apple...
--Allison loots some corpses...
--And a Boeing KC-135 and an Ilyushin IL-76 join the mile-high club.

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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by Professor Voodoo on Sun 8 May 2011 - 7:01

Chapter 7: Zero to Sixty in a New York Minute
"How's the wound, Pietro?" asked one of them, a woman with short brown hair.

"Still hurts, Elenora, but I'll live." replied a man with black hair and stubble clutching his side.
Interesting start...these two often show up as background characters in fanfics but leading off with them is unique.
"Why not get a burn phone, instead?" asked Pietro, trying to offer a simpler solution.

"No roaming allowed- can't make international calls with one." replied Elenora.
Then why would they be carrying them? Seems like that's something they'd have worked out before leaving Italy.
"So what was driving in a special-stage rally like?" asked Kara
I like the shift to an everyday casual conversation between the girls...I'm picturing this going on at roughly the same time Lorenzo & Draghi are having their meeting.
Kara's face simply returned a nervous and sheepish smile
Nervous because Michele has forbidden her from rallying or because she knows Allison will be driving?
"With all due respect, sir, what the bloody hell gave you the right to go behind my back and drop everything onto my cousin? What makes you think my family is worth involving?"
Efficient plot exposition...Lorenzo's move saved you the trouble of having Brian explain to his cousin.
"Thanks, Saladin. I owe you."

"You owe me nothing, Signor Brian. It is my job. I shall leave you to yours, then."
This kid has an interesting voice.
The girl had on a pair of Razer Barracuda HP-1 gaming headphones
Finally...a gamer that knows to use headphones! Hallelujah!
"Tempting, but no. Rather, I'd like to be owed a favor that I can call in when I feel the time is right.
The universal cyborg currency.
"I'm going to sleep, too. You cyborgs may find it optional.
This is a curious line...in your universe do cyborgs not need to sleep?
"What address was that, again?" asked Allison, opening the door to her Delta and bringing up the SatNav unit.
They brought Allison's Lancia? While I'm happy to see it make an appearance it seems an awkward choice considering the Delta was never US road-legal.
I doubt getting pulled over would be the fastest way to see Cousin Tommy."
Well, maybe...probably not.
Brian fed the meter for an hour as they exited the Delta
No government free parking perks on foreign soil!
"Excuse me, we're here to see Detective McDonnell." Brian stated.

"Do you have an appointment with him?" asked the receptionist,...

"Oh, they have an appointment with me."
Kind of reminiscent of Marco's visit to the Milan Police Inspector Moro in Chapter 16.
"It's been a while—what, almost a year since I last saw you guys?"

"Year and a half." replied Brian uneasily.
Time moves fast in your stories...I'm not even up to Marisa's first "Activation Day" yet.
Tommy sighed. "They... they told me Brian is your handler. Is that true?"

Allison leapt to her adoptive brother's defense.
Would an Agency cyborg necessarily consider "handler" a bad term?
I'm going to be transferred to Organized Crime soon. Someone else is taking over for me from the gang crimes unit. As it is, I'll be in a better position to pass on any info I find out."
Setting up Cousin Tommy for future appearances I see.
The two were interrupted by the sound of the Delta's horn being blown in the street in front of the precinct. It was time to go.
Allison: BRIAN! COFFEE! NOW! (*honk*)
I'm having a medium-well Sirloin steak for breakfast. Of course I am enjoying my meal. Life is good right this moment. It's great, in fact." replied Allison.
That's one of the great things about New York...anything you're looking for can be found at any hour of the day (just wish the museums stayed open later).
Successfully managing to disarm their opponents, they disengaged and dashed for the number 6 train and dove inside just as the recorded voice announcing the closing of the doors came over the speakers.

"Stand clear of the closing doors, please."
If shots had been fired in a crowed subway station would the train still take off? Seems like the whole area would get locked down in a hurry.
"More like some additional helpful information. Turns out Elenora has an uncle living in Bensonhurst. You know where that is, Rush?"
Common knowledge for a New Yorker like Rush or Tommy but I like that you've made Brian slightly naïve to the geography of the city...it's more realistic.
"Y-G-B-S-M." grumbled Allison, seemingly nonsensically, but Brian chuckled, knowing what the acronym stood for.
A Fighter Squadron on my base (81st FS...the last US F-4G squadron in Europe) had this stenciled on every piece of their equipment.
"And you are?" asked Rush, facing the short-haired newcomer in black suit and sunglasses.

"I guess my reputation fails to precede me. I'm Nick Verino." answered the young and arrogant man.
I'm guessing Rush is playing some head games here? A person in his position would be familiar with Verino, but treating him like an unknown would make the mobster angry and prone to mistakes.
Brian grabbed the first available weapon he could grip from the diplomatic bag in the confusion of the smoke and pulled out Allison's Tavor Compact, slamming home a 30-round PMAG and locking in the first round as he started laying down fire,
Busy morning for the cops in that neighborhood.
his Glock cut in half as Rush's old fireman ax barely avoided taking the mobster's head off.
Hmmm...very dramatic but as for cutting a pistol in half with an ax, I think that's one for the Mythbusters.
"Got it. I'll make sure to get rid of any identification, as well." replied Allison, eagerly searching the pockets of the nearest body.

"I'm sure you will." quipped Brian, rolling his eyes
So how much cash did Allison scavenge this time?
four guides extended from the undercarriage as Rush and 'Sam' plowed through the protective chain-link fence and guardrails bordering the tracks and landed onto the rails, fully connecting when Rush lined up Sam straight with the tracks. The guides lifted Solstice off the ground as a busbar extended towards the third rail, providing power to the electric motors driving small wheels mounted in the guides.
I don't know...it's getting a little far-fetched here. Considering the armor, the oiling system and these guides with electric motors this 2-seater has got to weight 6,000lbs by now.
"Glad we did." replied Allison, patting the bulge in the right front pocket of her jeans. "Those guys had a good fifteen grand, all told!"
I knew it!
"Yeah, well don't blame me if you get haunted by ghosts while you sleep." deadpanned Brian.
Allison: Lucky cyborgs don't remember their dreams anyway!
"I was gonna ask him what 'The Garden' was." groused the Irishman. "We're still a bunch of bloody tourists in this town."
Might have been amusing if B&A headed north to the Botanical Garden in the Bronx.
"Now if you'll indulge me vanity a little, how do you think I look?"

Allison blushed brightly again as the light turned green and she got with the flow of traffic. "I think you look... good."
I can sympathize with Allison...it is a rather annoying line of questioning (the stove repair man did it to me today...he was 71 but honestly didn't look it).
"A good burger should have all the fixings at least the first time out. You taught me that, Brian." replied Allison,
Let's see...gelato, tea parties with cake & pastries, Agapita's pizza, Kara's fettuccine al burro, now bacon cheeseburgers...it's a good thing cyborgs can't put on weight!
I only start lapsing into Corsican when I haven't had a Fiadone in a long while."
Before I checked what that was I thought he was talking about sex.
"You go sit down with my uncle and his friends. I think someone might need help in the kitchen."

"But-"

"Sit, Pietro. I'll help bring the food out."
A callback to Chapter 5...or does Elenora always get magnetically drawn to the kitchen?
"You government-types must have it rough." noted Beans, catching Pietro off guard.

"Excuse me?"

"Don't play dumb, ragazzo." said Beans. "I used to be a mafia don- you don't get there without knowing how to read people. As soon as I saw you walk in, I figured you were probably a cop or something."
Nicely played.
"Nice to meet you, Elenora! I noticed you have a bit of an accent. Are you from Italy?"
I'm picturing Elenora trying desperately to keep up with the Brooklyn accents surrounding her.
"Excellent, Pris. Looks like we're knocking on the door, then."
This is turning into a proper party.
"Raised Irish, but technically half-British, too." replied Brian.
Since he is from Belfast I dare say Brain might refer to himself as Northern Irish...it's a big difference to them.
" 'Old-timer's' disease?" asked Allison.

"He means Alzheimer's disease, Allison. Definitely one of the worse things out there to be afflicted with." explained Brian.

"Oh."
Ironic...since what eventually happens to cyborg brains (at least Angelica's) resembles Alzheimer's.
You might say he's my 'heterosexual life partner', hehe!" joked Allison,
Stirrings of the amorous feelings you referred to?
"He's doing well; getting ready to transfer over to the Organized Crime Unit."

"Shit, I better make myself scarce, then!" said Beans before chuckling-
It's like a scene out of The Godfather...I can picture everyone at the table laughing at that.
Allison's eyes saw two black Chevrolet Express vans come to a halt outside, the side doors sliding open and the unmistakable silhouette of Kalashnikov AKM assault rifles, having just enough time to warn everyone.

"DOWN!"
Somehow I get the feeling this is a bad house to mess with...
"Allison, check the back. Mr. Gabrielli and I have the front covered—you two, go check on your boss." Brian ordered to Allison and Beans' men.

"Cover us, then?" asked Allison.

"I got you covered on three, kid." said Alfonso,
For a bunch of old-school Italian mobsters these guys have certainly accepted a 16-17 year old girl jumping into a firefight with a lack of questions.
"Aside from a flesh wound in the shoulder, I'm okay- nothing some spray bandage can't patch up."
Spray bandage...is that an Alfisti idea you picked up on? Either way I like it.
Allison went to the Delta, which miraculously had not been hit during the shootout scant minutes ago.
Good thing too. Can you imagine the potential cyborg-rage?

This is getting kind of long so I'll post what I've got now and finish the climax soon...

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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by Professor Voodoo on Sun 8 May 2011 - 7:57

And wrapping it up...

he accelerated and aimed for the left-rear corner of the BMW, forcing the sedan into a slide—the classic PIT maneuver, as it were.
Difficult to do in a smaller, lighter car. It would be fun to see Allison & Rush match their skills on a race course...Limerock Park is probably the closest to NYC.
she looked in her rearview mirror, her eyes widened to spot a red Eurocopter AS350 bearing down on them with a door gunner wielding an M240 Light Machine Gun.
Someone is making their visit to New York memorable. We've not yet heard what Pietro & Elenora clued into to attract so much attention.
he drew his Wilson Combat and started taking potshots at the helicopter just to get the attention of those onboard.
Good friend to have. Does he speak Italian? Might want to hire this guy as a handler.
Somehow, they managed not to attract the attention of New York's finest or the highway patrol despite racing down the highway with the speedometer needle hovering close to ninety miles an hour.
Interference by Cousin Tommy perhaps...or the cops might be a bit distracted by the helicopter crash?
"So what now? It seems like we brought all that firepower for nothing." said Allison, remembering that the diplomatic bag was still laden down with ammunition and explosives.
Well, there's always part 2.
we can go see that musical you were interested in-'Thoroughly Modern Millie', I believe it was?"Allison quickly wrapped Brian in a powerful hug. "Brian, you're the coolest older brother ever!"
Triela: Oh god, please don't let her come home singing all the songs...or worse, teaching them to 'Etta & Rico.
"I've always wanted to give a Mini Cooper a try..."

"I'll make sure to get the S version if the John Cooper Works version isn't available."
Jeeze, I need their connections. I usually get stuck with a Camry when I pick up a rental at the airport.

Well done, MP5. Although I thought a few of the elements of his car were a bit goofy I grew to like the character of Rush...hope he makes another appearance in part two.

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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by MP5 on Sun 8 May 2011 - 14:23

@Professor Voodoo wrote:
"Why not get a burn phone, instead?" asked Pietro, trying to offer a simpler solution.

"No roaming allowed- can't make international calls with one." replied Elenora.
Then why would they be carrying them? Seems like that's something they'd have worked out before leaving Italy.
The only phones they carry are their regular phones, which as you know were destroyed. Once they were compromised, those two are pretty much playing things by ear.


Kara's face simply returned a nervous and sheepish smile
Nervous because Michele has forbidden her from rallying or because she knows Allison will be driving?
Definitely the latter. Besides, at least it wouldn't be one of his cars they're throwing sideways through every turn.

"I'm going to sleep, too. You cyborgs may find it optional.
This is a curious line...in your universe do cyborgs not need to sleep?
They do-- but I chalk it up to their stamina allowing them to stay up much longer than their handlers.

"What address was that, again?" asked Allison, opening the door to her Delta and bringing up the SatNav unit.
They brought Allison's Lancia? While I'm happy to see it make an appearance it seems an awkward choice considering the Delta was never US road-legal.
Another case of 'did not do my research', sorry. sweat



"It's been a while—what, almost a year since I last saw you guys?"

"Year and a half." replied Brian uneasily.
Time moves fast in your stories...I'm not even up to Marisa's first "Activation Day" yet.
Well, I did tell her field trial in flashback-- I take a lot of liberties with the passage of time.

Tommy sighed. "They... they told me Brian is your handler. Is that true?"

Allison leapt to her adoptive brother's defense.
Would an Agency cyborg necessarily consider "handler" a bad term?
In my opinion, only if the handler in question doesn't like being termed as such.

Successfully managing to disarm their opponents, they disengaged and dashed for the number 6 train and dove inside just as the recorded voice announcing the closing of the doors came over the speakers.
"Stand clear of the closing doors, please."
If shots had been fired in a crowed subway station would the train still take off? Seems like the whole area would get locked down in a hurry.
True though that may be, I think there would be at least a little bit of a delay-- and I think that the train conductor might make a decision to quickly depart the station. Then again, I don't know exactly what the procedure is.

"Y-G-B-S-M." grumbled Allison, seemingly nonsensically, but Brian chuckled, knowing what the acronym stood for.
A Fighter Squadron on my base (81st FS...the last US F-4G squadron in Europe) had this stenciled on every piece of their equipment.
The 'Wild Weasels', right?

"And you are?" asked Rush, facing the short-haired newcomer in black suit and sunglasses.

"I guess my reputation fails to precede me. I'm Nick Verino." answered the young and arrogant man.
I'm guessing Rush is playing some head games here? A person in his position would be familiar with Verino, but treating him like an unknown would make the mobster angry and prone to mistakes.
Not necessarily. He might have heard of the Verino family, but he doesn't always know the specifics or the key players.


four guides extended from the undercarriage as Rush and 'Sam' plowed through the protective chain-link fence and guardrails bordering the tracks and landed onto the rails, fully connecting when Rush lined up Sam straight with the tracks. The guides lifted Solstice off the ground as a busbar extended towards the third rail, providing power to the electric motors driving small wheels mounted in the guides.
I don't know...it's getting a little far-fetched here. Considering the armor, the oiling system and these guides with electric motors this 2-seater has got to weight 6,000lbs by now.
Based on the comic book, 'Sam' probably has some kind of Applied Phlebotinium technology in it, as it seems to drive like the original sports car despite having all those doodads and weapons on-board. I suppose it also helps that Rush is a badass driver.



I only start lapsing into Corsican when I haven't had a Fiadone in a long while."
Before I checked what that was I thought he was talking about sex.
They do touch on that in volume 5 of 'Rush City'. It's a word that Bagnanno keeps on saying, so Rush seeks linguistics help from a pizzeria run by Italian-Americans with very little help, and the word "Fiadone" sounds like "Via Donne"-- a woman of the streets. It's not until Rush and Beans hole up in a church to think that a nun is able to translate Beans' native Corsican dialect, and they get him the cheesecake-like dessert, which after a few bites, sort of 're-boots' his mind and he can speak English again.

"You go sit down with my uncle and his friends. I think someone might need help in the kitchen."

"But-"

"Sit, Pietro. I'll help bring the food out."
A callback to Chapter 5...or does Elenora always get magnetically drawn to the kitchen?
I think it's her inclination to be helpful-- and she is sort of intruding on her uncle's personal time.


"Raised Irish, but technically half-British, too." replied Brian.
Since he is from Belfast I dare say Brian might refer to himself as Northern Irish...it's a big difference to them.
Point taken. I'll fix that.


You might say he's my 'heterosexual life partner', hehe!" joked Allison,
Stirrings of the amorous feelings you referred to?
More of a joke with a hint of truth in it. Just wanted to title drop a trope, as well.

Allison's eyes saw two black Chevrolet Express vans come to a halt outside, the side doors sliding open and the unmistakable silhouette of Kalashnikov AKM assault rifles, having just enough time to warn everyone.

"DOWN!"
Somehow I get the feeling this is a bad house to mess with...
You just don't mess with a Jarhead who fought in Korea and was allowed to take his weapons home with him, y'know?

"Allison, check the back. Mr. Gabrielli and I have the front covered—you two, go check on your boss." Brian ordered to Allison and Beans' men.

"Cover us, then?" asked Allison.

"I got you covered on three, kid." said Alfonso,
For a bunch of old-school Italian mobsters these guys have certainly accepted a 16-17 year old girl jumping into a firefight with a lack of questions.
Well, they all think she's at least in her early 20's. And Beans is the only real 'old-school' mob guy, and he's upstairs at the moment here.

"Aside from a flesh wound in the shoulder, I'm okay- nothing some spray bandage can't patch up."
Spray bandage...is that an Alfisti idea you picked up on? Either way I like it.
Saved me time having to think up of a similar stopgap solution.


Last edited by MP5 on Sun 8 May 2011 - 15:34; edited 2 times in total

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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by Robert Frazer on Sun 8 May 2011 - 14:49

Saved me time having to think up of a similar stopgap solution.

I made a mention of spray bandages in "Pied-Rouge" as well, probably channeling memories of First-Aid Spray in Resident Evil (although I conceived it more as a method for filling in flesh wounds and restoring a fresh skin layer than magically sewing your gut back together). Seeing as cyborgs do have interchangeable limbs, videogame healing might actually be a viable method for them... Wink

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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by Kiskaloo on Sun 8 May 2011 - 15:09

@Professor Voodoo wrote:
Chapter 7: Zero to Sixty in a New York Minute

Successfully managing to disarm their opponents, they disengaged and dashed for the number 6 train and dove inside just as the recorded voice announcing the closing of the doors came over the speakers.

"Stand clear of the closing doors, please."

If shots had been fired in a crowed subway station would the train still take off? Seems like the whole area would get locked down in a hurry.

Well this is NYC. Wink

Subway Announcement wrote:
"You are on a Westbound 6 Train. Next stop is 33rd and Lexington. Shots are fired from the left at Lexington."

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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by MP5 on Sun 8 May 2011 - 15:18

@Professor Voodoo wrote:And wrapping it up...

he accelerated and aimed for the left-rear corner of the BMW, forcing the sedan into a slide—the classic PIT maneuver, as it were.
Difficult to do in a smaller, lighter car. It would be fun to see Allison & Rush match their skills on a race course...Limerock Park is probably the closest to NYC.
If Rush weren't so busy doing rescue jobs and finding people, they could. As for the PIT maneuver, well, 'Sam' is probably significantly heavier, but there's probably more than enough horsepower to overcome the weight.

she looked in her rearview mirror, her eyes widened to spot a red Eurocopter AS350 bearing down on them with a door gunner wielding an M240 Light Machine Gun.
Someone is making their visit to New York memorable. We've not yet heard what Pietro & Elenora clued into to attract so much attention.
Yeah, I've been pretty vague about that. This will likely be expounded upon in the next couple of chapters.

he drew his Wilson Combat and started taking potshots at the helicopter just to get the attention of those onboard.
Good friend to have. Does he speak Italian? Might want to hire this guy as a handler.
As far as I know, he does not speak Italian. And in terms of hiring him as a handler? Forget it. He knows how to fight, but I highly doubt he would be much for doing their dirty business. He atones for Sam's death by doing what he can to save others.

Somehow, they managed not to attract the attention of New York's finest or the highway patrol despite racing down the highway with the speedometer needle hovering close to ninety miles an hour.
Interference by Cousin Tommy perhaps...or the cops might be a bit distracted by the helicopter crash?
Well, with everything going on in the city, the helicopter crash is just the latest occurence in the NYPD's busy day.

we can go see that musical you were interested in-'Thoroughly Modern Millie', I believe it was?"Allison quickly wrapped Brian in a powerful hug. "Brian, you're the coolest older brother ever!"
Triela: Oh god, please don't let her come home singing all the songs...or worse, teaching them to 'Etta & Rico.
This actually gave me an idea-- instead of a written test, this would be an assignment given by Nicolette for her performing arts class at the end of their 'American Theatre' unit-- assemble a cast, rehearse, and then perform a musical in front of a live audience. This is where we find some cyborgs who you wouldn't expect to show some serious acting and singing chops.

"I've always wanted to give a Mini Cooper a try..."

"I'll make sure to get the S version if the John Cooper Works version isn't available."
Jeeze, I need their connections. I usually get stuck with a Camry when I pick up a rental at the airport.
Well, I took some creative liberties. I know that ZipCar offers the Mini convertible as a rentable vehicle, so I just extrapolated form there.

Well done, MP5. Although I thought a few of the elements of his car were a bit goofy I grew to like the character of Rush...hope he makes another appearance in part two.
I should've been more careful about putting 'To Be Continued' there... this is probably the first and last appearance of Rush as a character, though he might be mentioned in the future.

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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by ChaosKin640 on Sun 8 May 2011 - 16:00

Damn, I can’t believe I actually forgot to respond to this, sorry MP5.
First off, great installment. It was very fun and fast-paced, which I think is something that we’ve come to expect and enjoy about your work. And of course, thanks for Lucy’s cameo.

Finally...a gamer that knows to use headphones! Hallelujah!
Given the decibel levels that she typically plays her games at, I don’t think Lucy was given much of a choice on this matter. It was either that, or see her precious computer pitched out the window.

Would an Agency cyborg necessarily consider "handler" a bad term?
The 2nd Gen girls might. Dependent on their outside exposure, most of them are old enough that they would be aware of the negative connotations associated with the term within normal society. But as MP5 said above, whether or not a cyborg personally considers it a bad term would likely depend on their own handler’s feelings about it.
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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by ElfenMagix on Mon 9 May 2011 - 2:27

@Kiskaloo wrote:
@Professor Voodoo wrote:
Chapter 7: Zero to Sixty in a New York Minute

Successfully managing to disarm their opponents, they disengaged and dashed for the number 6 train and dove inside just as the recorded voice announcing the closing of the doors came over the speakers.

"Stand clear of the closing doors, please."

If shots had been fired in a crowed subway station would the train still take off? Seems like the whole area would get locked down in a hurry.

Well this is NYC. Wink

Not being a Killjoy, but NYC MTA (New York City Metropolitan Transit Authority) procedures says that in such incidences, all trains are to stop where they are at and hold their positions until the situation is cleared. In situations which would take hours, all possible trains are rerouted to the next track; Local to Express or Express to Local depending on the train's track situation.



@Kiskaloo wrote:
Subway Announcement wrote:
"You are on a Westbound 6 Train. Next stop is 33rd and Lexington. Shots are fired from the left at Lexington."
The #6 train is a North/South Route. It is on Lexington Avenue, and thus called the Lexington Avenue Line. But South of 42nd street it runs on Park Avenue, and South of 14th Street it runs down 4th Ave. Below Canal Street it runs down Center Street to Brooklyn Bridge. Its the way Manhattan Island is shaped and the ending of streets and avenues at various points that causes this.

Though a subway announcement would never say such a thing publicly, "Shots are fired from the left at Lexington." throws it off because of the West Bound #6 train.

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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by Kiskaloo on Mon 9 May 2011 - 2:39

Well I last road the MTA in 2003 and I just recall it saying "You're on a (something )train to (somewhere). Next stop is (some station). Doors open on the left at (some station)."

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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by Pax on Wed 8 Feb 2012 - 3:11

Finally caught up with this fic, really enjoying it so far. I cant really think of any nitpicks or CC other than theres no more for me to read right now, haha. Really cant wait for more MP5!!

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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by boomer_gonz on Wed 8 Feb 2012 - 5:42

@ElfenMagix wrote:
Not being a Killjoy, but NYC MTA (New York City Metropolitan Transit Authority) procedures says that in such incidences, all trains are to stop where they are at and hold their positions until the situation is cleared. In situations which would take hours, all possible trains are rerouted to the next track; Local to Express or Express to Local depending on the train's track situation.

Train Conductor: Get shot or Get fired? Get shot or Get fired? ....Man; !@#k this!! I'm gone!!

Evil

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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by ElfenMagix on Thu 9 Feb 2012 - 1:08

@boomer_gonz wrote:
@ElfenMagix wrote:
Not being a Killjoy, but NYC MTA (New York City Metropolitan Transit Authority) procedures says that in such incidences, all trains are to stop where they are at and hold their positions until the situation is cleared. In situations which would take hours, all possible trains are rerouted to the next track; Local to Express or Express to Local depending on the train's track situation.

Train Conductor: Get shot or Get fired? Get shot or Get fired? ....Man; !@#k this!! I'm gone!!

Evil
That has happened before Boomer.
Unfortunately for the conductor, he's in a wheelchair for life.

Story: Some asshole was chasing his girlfriend and wanted to kill her for some reason. The conductor saw what was happening so he opened the door for her to get in and close it so the boyfriend to not get in. The asshole boyfriend then shot up the side of the train killing the girlfriend and wounding the conductor.
http://www.nytimes.com/1992/02/28/nyregion/woman-shot-to-death-on-subway-train.html

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Re: MP5's fiction

Post by taerKitty on Thu 9 Feb 2012 - 1:24

Sadly, he lasted about a year and a half. He needed around-the-clock care, according to his obit. Not fun.

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