Devon, Justin, and I have been bullshitting about Apocalypse World for a while, and it kind of me an itch to run it. We dragged Fattig into the mix and started some pretty advanced fuckery. It’s an intentionally laid back game. I didn’t write any love letters, or really plan anything at all. I did make a map, so we could start slapping things down on the table, but none of the names had meaning until we gave it to them.
NSFW Warning. When I write about Apocalypse World, I can’t help but slip in to the kind of “fuck you, and balls that” language native to the setting. Put the earmuffs on that content isn’t safe to have on your screen, or something you want to read.
Dog stop is a shit hole of a holding but it’s got two things going for it. First, it’s defensible. There is an old mall, nobody knows the name of it, but they know the shops. The Sparro’s food court where Trunk, in his wild paranoia keeps try to edge his brother Keeler out of the nail salon on the corner. There is Hot Topic, the bar, where all the drinks are served in kitchy shot shot glasses. The 2nd floor holders have it good. They have a good view of the plaza below, where the Nordy chumps gather in masses. Plus, they are damn hard to assault from outside, as the bikers from the Burner Tracks have to come in from the ground floor to raid.
Taxi has dreams of getting a fountain machine working again. It will be the Fanta of the Gods, if she can.
The hold is also an intersection of commerce. To the west, through the mountains is Ash Heap, where scavengers like Cobble and Mckinley raid for parts. It was a military base or something before the fall. There are all kinds of metal parts there, and if you have a set of balls like Mckinley, you’re willing to go deep enough inside to pull out something of worth, heavy weapons, ammo, combat rations, fuck, there is even some working machinery down there, hi-tech shit. To the south is Deek’s Dregs, right on the top of oil lake. It’s pretty much the only reliable place to get oil that isn’t sludge.
Keeler is probably the only one who can call this can of shit soup home. He and his brother Trunk have property here and it’s pretty choice. Keeler claimed NAIL EXCELLENCE for his digs. He’s taken the linoleum floor tiles plus chicken wire to make armor, and wears the “A” from NAIL on his chest, like some kind of “A”sshole super hero. He’s a bony fuck, like his brother, but all his big fuck off guns usually means he eats better, and gets picked on less than paranoid ass Trunk.
Nero works here. Maybe he calls it home. Maybe home is just where he can find a warm, wet place for his cock. He’s got a crew, Coyote who actually knows how to read and build shit but always thinks the others are stealing from him, Harrow, the banger, who most definitely is stealing from Coyote, and Michelob, his scout. Abe doesn’t work for him, but he does find him gigs. Abe also sticks his little pecker where it doesn’t belong, so it’s become Nero’s de facto job to keep the little fuck alive. In fact it was Abe that got him the job with Taxi, trying to make her Fountain Drink machine work. Would have gone well too if the CO2 canisters weren’t ripped off. Now Taxi thinks Nero is fucking her over and she’s cut him off. He’s not wanted in the Mall, but her influence doesn’t carry much past that, so he still work of out some crappy shacks cobbled together outside.
Juck doesn’t like it when you call him Junk. It’s Juck, rhymes with Fuck. And Suck. Juck is a chopper with a pretty sordid past. He used to be part of the Smokehouse Brawlers, a gang run by BBQ. In fact, for a time, even Keeler was part of it, and the rode as far north as Dremmer’s Dock, and owned the fuck out of Car Park. BBQ has a peculiar way of waving his dick around. He lost all his teeth, so his gang had to chew is food for him and then feed it to him, like a mama bird feeding it’s baby. If we knew what the fuck a bird was. That was fucked up, but hell, shit is fucked up. BBQ went crazy though, he got it in his head to cross the Mud Grave and Maggot Heights and try to take Croke’s Gate. First off, just getting through the mud grave is a fucking batshit, but second, nobody fucks with Croke’s gates. Those assholes a eight feet tall and can fucking crush a man’s head into mush in one hand. Juck stood up to BBQ, which meant dropping him dead. It should have been over, Juck would be the new leader, but there were some that were still loyal to BBQ, namely his little sister Ivy, who also happened to be Juck’s fuckbuddy. She had a made hate for Juck and she took the better half of the gang with her. There’s more there, but I’m bullshitting to long already. He’s got a fuckin past.
The play is the shit
We stated game with Juck rolling into town. His bikes were about ready to break down, in fact Ambassador’s just ran out of gas all together and the lonely fuck had to push it.
Juck met up with Nero and Coyote (who were out looking for those CO2 canisters) as the gang rolled into Dog Stop. Vicki, his #2 wanted to just start pillaging off the bat. Vicki is a fine woman, or she wood be if her right eye hadn’t been ripped out. She refuses to cover it too, and flies like to perch in there, nesting in the entrails. But her body and her spirit are hard. She wanted to get herself something to shoot and something to fuck. Nero, popped out of his cover at about that time and offered his services, at least for the latter. Nero is a big man, voluptuous even, but apparently that is how Vicki likes them because she was happy to go back and rut in Nero’s shack.
Quentin appeared, trying to hock his wares to Junk’s crew. He had macaroni art and real rayon, but mispronouncing Juck’s name got him a oily boot to the face and some orders barked out. “Go find me Keeler, and bring him out here.” Quentin didn’t like the sound of that. He agreed, but had hate in his heart. He took his most valuable possession (a corked jug of ever-clear) from his tent and scampered into the mall to fetch the gunlugger.
The upper floor
Meanwhile Keeler was coming home to find his store chained shut with a god damn padlock. Which, he prompt shot off and put another hole in the plexiglass front doors. Trunk came running out of Sparro’s and wondering who the hell was shooting when he found his older brother Keeler. “I thought you were dead.” “I’m not fucking dead. I’m right here.” “Oh, Abe told me you were dead. So I locked up the shop, for protection.” “Why is that little fuck Abe telling people I’m dead. C’mon lets do drink.” and then Keeler affectionate head-butted his little brother leaving a gouge in his forhead from his chicken wire armor (1-harm for the kids keeping track of how long Trunk will live).
Hot Topic has a pretty simple security system. If you fuck with the owner Jone her old man who is nested somewhere in the rafters upstairs blows your head off of with a sniper rifle. It works well enough. Keeler and Trunk were drinking the regular swill when Quentin spotted them and set his jug on the table. “Keeler, I want you to do something for me. I’m offering you my most prized possession, this jug of pure spirits.” He un-corked the jug and Keeler could smell the wafting ethanol. Quentin, who had a greasy boot print on his face already (from Juck’s boot to the head) got a head butt from Keeler that sent him reeling (again 1-harm on account of Bloodcrazyed). Quentin fell down, tried standing up, but fell again, his head spinning.
Keeler made his way out to talk with Juck and took a swig of Quentin’s finest. Then the visions came. Unprepared for his brain to open Keeler looked to the sky and saw only a black void that seemed to suck on his soul. On the ground below things were normal, or normal enough. The tire iron in Juck’s hand for instance slithered and spun, a snake coiling around him. But you know, otherwise he was his usual self.
Juck had made camp which consisted of unhitching his trailers from the bikes and letting the rest wherever they stood. His gang was getting antsy for some action, which wasn’t helped but the shouting coming from Nero’s shack. It had been a while since Vicki had any dick and she was sharing that with the world. She kept shouting about his giant cock when…
… Keeler convinced Juck to drop the tire iron, by way of pulling a pin on a grenade. He took the tire iron snake, threw it a good ways off and then chucked the grenade after it… right in the direction Quentin and Abe. They were both coming out of the mall, trying to shove a shotgun into each other’s hands as neither was brave enough to level it against Keeler but both wanted to. Abe looked up and dove for cover, Quentin was too busy shoving the shotgun in his hands and took a grenade to the face (5-harm in Keeler’s hands). I was starting to like Quentin, now he gets to stick around. Get it, stick around, cause his parts are sticky. The joke is that he isn’t alive but his body parts are blow all over… this gets funnier if I keep explaining it…
In a manifold explosion, Nero was done as well, and without ceremony Vicki pulled up her trousers, and walked to see what she was missing. Nero followed and the three protagonists were all present for the first time. Abe had recovered, still had both hands on the shotgun and was walking towards Keeler purposefully. “You asshole” BAM! Nero shot him in the leg. That was his version of protecting him. Dropping him on his ass before Keeler killed him.
Dust in the north
We ended with something coming from the north. We’ll see what it is next time.
Some stuff behind the scenes
We talked about some looming threats. Tape, some crazy witch woman tried to pay Nero for a job with knowledge, specifically the name of the three fates : Balls, Jackal, and Shitbird, or something like that. Nero chased her out of town, but she met up with Juck’s gang on their way in, and one of them claimed him as hers. She has a huge stock of porcelain white Baby Jesus figures, that the gang has taken to start lashing to the handlebars of their bikes. They talk of Baby Jesus the ass kicker and mother fucker. She seems to be worried he’s far worse.
People have been going out to scavenge at Ash Heap and not returning. Sooner or later this is going to be a problem.
Thoughts on the game
I didn’t present a lot of meaningful opposition this game. I mostly wanted to see what the players would do, un-contested. This was the time when they got to show off how awesome they were. That seemed okay. I can see problems looming in the horizon, and they’ll snowball for sure.
The guys had fun. We named everyone (I have the names in my notes) and got some really cool characters out of there. I like Vicki and Abe a lot. I’m excited about Tape and Ivy to see what they do. I think the Ash Heap is going to be a problem, I know Taxi isn’t letting Nero or his crew in the mall. Fun times ahead.
Working off a map was good. It gave us some reference points. Yay, maps.
Now I gotta start on some fronts! Fronts, motherfuckers.