On 12/3/2022 at 7:50 PM, Drifter One said:RICKY FO
RTUNE - LAWMAN
Head Armor: 7 | Body Armor: 11 | Shield: 0 | HP: 45
INT: 7 | REF: 8 | DEX: 7 | TECH: 5 | COOL: 6 | WILL: 8 | LUCK: 7 | MOVE: 6 | BODY: 5 | EMP: 4
Humanity: 40/40 | Wounds: | Critical Injuries: | Addictions:
Heavy Pistol 4D6 | ROF 2 | Hands 1 | Shots (8) | Concealed |
Shotgun 5d6 | ROF 1 | Hands 2 | Shots (4):
The messenger for the Pastor did not hang around; spilled the beans and delta'd outta there. Something did not sit right with Ricky, maybe it was instinct or maybe it was just his years on the force made him suspicious of everything and everyone. Still, he had to do what he had to do. The tracker was passed to Mercedes, so she slipped in the front next to the Nomad and Ricky found himself sat in the back next to the Koi lady. Ricky wound down the window to try and let the odour out. NC was rank on the best of days, but damn it was less of a torment on the nostrils than the stench coming from the car.
"Something stinks." Ricky muttered. "And I don't mean the wagon." he added, realising he was stating the obvious. He shuffled forward in his seat, grabbing the headrest of the passenger seat in front. "So we are delivery drivers, huh?" Ricky nonchalantly pulled his hipflask from his overcoat and began to unscrew the cap. "Last time I got mail, din't take four fucking people to deliver it. This ain't gonna be no simple pick up, and if the package is as important as it seems, why would scav trash nick it?". Ricky flopped back into his seat and stared out of the window as the full sun began to blaze higher in the sky. "I dunno. Just need to be on our toes, is all im sayin'." Ricky took a long swig from his hiplflask.