Highler Ridge :: Rebirth

[Decepticon]

got confused here sorry

[Ad Bot]

[mlockha]

I drive over to the apartment row that I was shot at last time. The shootout in the street appeared to be over. The other squad car that were with me left, except for the two ones, who followed me back to the apartment row. The two stopped at the guy's backyard and they said just incase the guys jumped out the windows or something they'd be there, so I went on. As mlockha's character begins to talk with Blazer's char, one of the cops yell over to them, pointing a flashlight at them, not recognizing them through the rain. "Hey you three! What are you doing?"

"I'm asking him what the score of the game was!" I yell.

[blazerblock2]

thanks for ignoring my guy dood

We were still in the basement, unseen. 

[Decepticon]

got confused here sorry

[blazerblock2]

i thought he was talking to you guys just before you went into the manhole

Nope, we're long gone in the sewer.  I only stuck my head out enough to see, then we ran.

[Jokey365]

My temporary friend pulls over, wishing me luck as I step out into the rain. "Thanks man." I say to him before he pulls away. Well now I'm soon to be soaking wet and I had two bullet wounds. Today wasn't my day. I needed some serious training if I was going to be able to do anything in this town without a gun, and I knew just the place.
CLANG CLANG CLANG.
My banging on the door echoed up the small flight of stairs and out into the alleyway. The slot in the door opened up. "Wha- Oh it's you. What is it?" a voice asks. "I need training. Hand to hand, parkour, the whole nine yards." I respond. "How do you expect to pay?" the voice asks. "I provided you protection while you dealt with your grudge that one time. I was the one that resorted to using a shovel to fight off the men trying to get to you." I answer. "Oh! You're that guy! Oh god, I never thought I'd see the day a shovel force a guy's bone clean out of his flesh!" the voice exclaims, obviously trying to hold in laughter. "Can you help me or not?" I ask, my voice showing I was getting tired of his delays. "Wha- Oh right, get in." the voice says before opening the door, revealing a chubby black man. "Jeez, lay off the chocolate bars." I say to him as I enter. "Still own the fight club?" I ask. "No, police shut me down, so now that whole grudge business was for nothing. He's the only one with fight club in the city now." the man answers. "Seriously? But you always had the best rules!" I exclaim. "Welp, I suppose the good die young, but off the topic of me being a total failure, let's get to training, HOP OVER THAT TABLE FIFTY TIMES IN A ROW, AND IF I SEE IT SHAKE AT ALL, START OVER!" he shouts at me. "OKAY I'M GOING!" I shout as I leap onto the table, my weight pulling it to the ground. The man slaps his face in disappointment.

[Decepticon]

Nope, we're long gone in the sewer.  I only stuck my head out enough to see, then we ran.

oh
jesus christ all of this is starting to make me confused

anyways


On the TV and newspapers, people can hear/see the main articles and headlines;

Goodyear Jailbreak Massacre freaks out Law Enforcement!
Recently booths have been set up on every bridge in Highler Ridge, each one is a checkpoint where authorities will check your identification and background check you, if you're clean you'll be let through, if not, you and your vehicle will be held by checkpoint security until the police department arrives to handle you. You may all have already heard about the bridge-acts, but now HRPD are now searching gun stores for illegal dealers buying weapons from there, otherwise known as take-to-the-street gun dealers, who are now considered illegal if they do not have an official shop to sell in.
Also, have you seen this person? He was once presumed to be dead but recently we got a call that he was last seen in a street, bleeding.;
*An image appears of Maxwell Nappy before he faked his death*
This person is also wanted by the police for being broken out of jail, if you see him, please call the local police station and/or the hospital. Thank you for watching/reading Channel 15 News, keeping you updated and safe.
*Dun-Dun*

[blazerblock2]

          "'Ope you dun' mind a few rats, mon, hah!  Good thin' y' got th' jacket, then."  I looked back and forth, and then begin walking to the right, assuming that Alex had closed the manhole above.  A few rats scurry past, and I groan.

[Mikoyan]

"Heh, these things are nothing.." I hold the shotgun in one hand, "Where we going?"

[blazerblock2]

          "Goodyear, m' friend got an apartment there, we'll b' safe n' there," I respond, walking to the right at a T stop in the sewer.

[Jokey365]

"FASTER, FASTER, YOU CAN DO BETTER THAN THAT!" he yells at me as I do pushups on top of a counter. While I'm at it, I should mention how sweet this fight club is. Different rooms each set up to look like different places, like bars and offices. It's great, a shame this one had to be shut down. The other one doesn't have that special feel that this one used to give me. "FASTER!" he yells before I finally listen to him. "I'm going to pop a vein at this rate!" I pant. "WHATEVER IT TAKES, NOW DO ANOTHER HUNDRED!"

[mlockha]

I needed to get my guns and drugs back together. I decided to go to my favorite arms dealer.
"Yo, dude!" I yell to him, as I walk down the steps. "Hey man." He replys back. I quickly pull my pistol out and shoot him in the head. "Sorry bro, I need weapons and I can't spend money." I quickly gather up this guys stuff.

Weapons in Salvatore's car:
Mossberg 500 Shotgun
Tec-9 Machine Pistol
AK-74M Rifle
4 Magazines for AK-74M Rifle
3 Magazines for Tec-9 Machine Pistol
20 Shells for Mossberg 500 Shotgun

[Nonnel]

NAME | Ed Berens
LOCA | In a coffee shop, in Bright Annex.
ACTN | Sweeping floors.
INVT | A switchblade, an ounce of weed, five grams of cocaine, an uzi, two packs of cigarettes, some pasta mix, and $29.00.
OBJV | I need a car.


Wow, that richard drove off without me. At least I did get some cocaine and an uzi. What I need most right now is a job.
Down the street, I saw a coffee shop with a help wanted sign in the window. Since I had no experience, the manager said he could pay me minimum wage for sweeping the floors and picking up bags of coffee beans. I had no choice but to accept. I need the money. He understood I would only be here for the day.

After a few hours of sweeping, I got a quick paycheck of $29.00.

[Jokey365]

"PUNCH, PUNCH, HIT ME IN THE FACE DAMN YOU!" he yells as he blocks assorted punches. "ARE YOU TRYING TO MAKE ME PUKE?!" I yell between gasps. "YES." he shouts, still blocking punches. "NOW, PUNCH ME!" he shouts before nailing me right in the jaw. "DAMNIT, THIS ISN'T WORKING." I shout as I cough up a lot of spit onto the floor. "LOOK AT THIS, YOU'RE MAKING ME BLEED AGAIN! All this insane work has made me forgot that I have TWO bullet wounds!" I shout. "No wonder you're doing so poorly." he says before walking away. "What?" I ask before he comes back with a first aid kit and some pliers. "Hold still." The next few minutes consist of me screaming as I have bullets torn out of my flesh.

[Comatose]

NAME| Alan Sheffield-Westmond
LOCA| West Tillman Ave., Bright Annex
ACTN| Walking down the street.
INVT| Wallet [in: $16, photo ID, credit card], cell phone, bear spray
OBJV| Find someplace to eat.


After Megan left, I watched the news until night turned to day. By 6:30, I was exhausted and starving. I decided to leave the apartment to eat, rather than cooking myself breakfast. As I walk down the sidewalk, people rush past, heading to work. I begin to play on my phone as I walk, and look up only to cross the street. After walking a mile or so, I come up to a little diner. Inside, it's quiet, so I walk in. The hostess possesses a disinterested look, but seats me quickly and without incident.

As I order my coffee, I focus my gaze on a man sweeping the floor with a disgruntled look on his face. As I study him closer, I notice he doesn't belong. While all the other employees are much more presentable, he is very ruffled. I notice a dull green substance and a white powder, both in different packages roughly tucked into his pocket. I continue to watch him, and he glances back. I quickly lean over, as to appear as if I'm looking behind him, yet he continues to look at me. I lock eyes with him, narrow my eyes, and throw my money down on the table before walking out of the diner, my hands thrust in my pockets; one holding my bear spray, the other holding my cell phone.