The Patriots

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GramercyRiff99
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The Patriots

Post by GramercyRiff99 »

This here is a continuation of my story in the "Fan Fiction Competition Final" thread, so if you're judging that contest, don't read it until you're done judging. I'll post the original in this thread too. There will be more to this story, I'm just posting them as I write them. I hope to have it extend into the 1980s later on. Let me know what you think.

DOWNLOAD THE ATTACHED FILE, READ THAT, THEN READ BELOW THIS LINE. OTHERWISE YOU WILL BE READING CHAPTER 2 BEFORE CHAPTER 1



6:26 PM, April 4th, 1973
Patriot's Hangout, Battery Park City, Manhattan

Jamal walked down the street, towards the hangout. He had a lot on his mind. The Patriots had swelled to almost 80 people, but they had lost five during a raid by the Slayers a week before. He walked through the doors of the hangout and was immediately set upon by a group of Patriots, most of which were the hardcore members (the ones who had been in the Staten Island raid the year before). “Yo man, you know that World Trade Center place they've been building up where Radio Row used to be?â€
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Re: The Patriots

Post by GramercyRiff99 »

Here's the third part. I'd put it in a document like before, but I keep getting some error about a full upload cache or something like that, so I'll post it like this for now. Please let me know how you like it.

1:31 AM, September 28th, 1973
Patriot's Hangout, Battery Park City, Manhattan

Jamal walked into the hangout, shaking off the chill of autumn as he stepped through. He stopped, noticing something was different. Then it hit him, there were two radios going simultaneously. “Where'd the new radio come from?â€
Last edited by Anonymous on Wed Nov 22, 2006 9:42 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Re: The Patriots

Post by GramercyRiff99 »

Here's the new chapter. Something really big happens in it. Let me know what you think.

10:49 PM, February 9th, 1974
Patriot's Hangout, Battery Park City, Manhattan

Jamal entered the hangout, with Denroy, Dave, Matt, and Glenn close behind him. Blank Frank by Brian Eno was on the radio, and some of the Patriots were watching a crappy late-60s horror movie on NBC. He announced himself with a cry of ?Goddamn is it ever cold out there!?. Branden turned around from the sofa, ?14 degrees last I checked. Where were you?? ?We were all down at the theatre watching that new flick, Blazing Saddles.? They all grabbed beers and sat around as more members came in. Around 11:30, the phone rang. Aaron was closest, so he answered, ?Yeah? Oh, hey... sure, he's right here. Yo Jamal! It's the Riffs!?
Jamal jumped over the chair he was sitting in and grabbed the receiver, ?Yeah?? Masai was on the other end, ?Hey, I know we aren't officially allied or anything, but could you spare any soldiers? We're taking out the Thrones tonight.? ?What'd they do?? ?We found two of our soldiers dead from shots to the head. The letters DL were spraypainted onto their chests. This is the last straw, and Cyrus knows that you hold a grudge against them, so you in?? Jamal thought for a second, ?I have around thirty of my soldiers here. We'll all be there.? He hung up the phone, ?Get your stuff together, we're going up to Gramercy. Remember, it's Saturday, so all the trains run local.?

12:21 AM, February 10th, 1974
Delancey Ave. Station, Gramercy, Manhattan

The thirty-two Patriots walked up the steps to street level, earning some nervous glances from the late night commuters. At the top of the stairs were Masai and a few other Riffs, standing in the small amount of snow that had accumulated, ?The majority of our forces are over at the end of East Houston Street, at East River Park. The Thrones are lurking nearby, and we're looking to get them into the park and take them out.? Jamal nodded, and they headed for the park.

12:38 AM, February 10th, 1974
East River Park, Gramercy, Manhattan

There was a massive group of Riffs, numbering at around 200, standing around the baseball diamonds in the park. The Patriots mingled a little, cracked open a beer or two, just stood around waiting for something to happen. At exactly one o'clock, something did. A large group of Thrones came walking in from the north. There was at least 150, probably the entire gang. Jamal looked carefully, and eventually picked out Ismail Rivera, the leader of the gang, near the front. He still walked with a limp (thanks to one of the bullets he took in 1965), but was imposing nonetheless.
The large group of soldiers halted, and Ismail walked to the front and spoke, ?Why did you feel the need to deliver this invitation via a brick through our window? Couldn't you have just sent a messenger?? ?And risk what happened to our other soldiers happening to him? No way!? Cyrus yelled. ?I suppose you think all of our problems came to a head now have you?? Ismail said. ?Those men's deaths was the straw that broke the camel's back, as they say,? Cyrus replied. The gangs stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, the Patriots feeling both out of place and excited at the same time.
Then it happened. Cyrus raised his hand, ?Riffs! Take them out!? Immediately, the crowd surged forwards, and the Patriots were pulled along with it, straight into the heart of the brawl. Jamal managed to pull out of the crowd and found himself face to face with a throne lieutenant. Jamal caught the punch that was thrown at him and pushed the Throne's hand down. He uppercut the Throne in the jaw, then gave two quick jabs to the head. The Throne collapsed and Jamal jumped over his body. He ran for the nearby tree lined path, shortly realizing that it had begun to snow again.
Jamal ran through the leafless trees. A Throne soldier tried to jump onto him from a tree, but only succeeded in breaking his leg when he landed five feet behind Jamal. All around him, Riffs and Patriots were brawling with the Thrones. He saw a Patriot at the end of the path brawling with an enemy soldier. He noticed that the Throne had a knife, so Jamal charged him. The Throne noticed him too late, and Jamal slammed into him at a full run. The Throne flew into the East River, Jamal barely stopping in time. The river was freezing at the time, so there was little chance of the Throne being able to fight anymore.
Jamal ran along the riverside walkway and cut left into the soccer field/runner's track. There were a large amount of people brawling there. Jamal was tackled from behind by a Throne. He managed to push the Throne off and cracked the gang member's head into the track. Jamal saw Denroy a short distance away, trying and failing to take on three at once. Jamal picked up a nearby 2x4 that had been discarded by a (now unconscious) Riff, and charged at Denroy. He smashed the wood over the head of one, then jammed the splintered end into the eye of the second. The Throne collapsed holding his face and screaming in pain. Denroy tackled the third one and punched him in the face repeatedly. Denroy then looked back at Jamal, ?You alright?? ?Yeah, you seen any of ours?? ?Branden and Carl are over near the road, Blair is over by the diamond, and a few new bloods are down by the waterfront. Oh yeah, Kevin and Glenn are knocked out somewhere over in the trees. They're fine though, besides that.? Jamal nodded, ?Thanks.?
Jamal took off down towards the other end of the field. He swung at a Throne on the way there, knocking him down. Jamal was almost at the trees when he saw something awful about to unfold. There was a Throne lieutenant standing there, with a gun in hand. Aaron was standing opposite him, staring at the revolver. Before Jamal could do anything, he saw the Throne pull the trigger. A deafening bang tore through the air, and Aaron stumbled back. A burst of blood sprayed out from his back, and Aaron fell backwards into the river. Aaron died at 1:13 AM, on February 10th, 1974. Jamal saw red.
He ran like the dickens towards the lieutenant. The Throne spun and pointed the gun at him, but Jamal was too fast. He grabbed the Throne's arm and snapped the bone with a single movement. The gun went off and the bullet lodged itself just below Jamal's armpit. He didn't even feel it. The gun fell to the ground (chipping the handle) along with the Throne. Jamal raised his foot and smashed his boot down on the lieutenant's skull. He felt the skull shatter, and he kept stomping on his head until he saw brains. The lieutenant was most thoroughly dead. Jamal picked up the gun and headed back towards the baseball diamond. He dodged several Thrones and headed for the main group. He saw pure carnage. Dead and maimed members of the Riffs and Thrones filled the area. There was still plenty of fighting going on, but one of them was most notable.
Cyrus was brawling with Ismail in the center of the diamond. Cyrus was losing. Ismail was hoisting up Cyrus by the neck, and had a rather large knife in his other hand. Jamal only had one shot to save Cyrus's life. He looked at the gun in his hand, and felt woozy. He was feeling the effects of the gunshot wound for the first time. Jamal raised the gun and took aim. He pulled the trigger, then collapsed onto the ground. The last thing he saw before passing out was Ismail jerking back, a bullet lodged in his chest.

6:53 AM, February 10th, 1974
Riffs Hangout, Gramercy, Manhattan

A concrete roof faded into Jamal's vision, and a yell of, ?He's awake!? reached his ears. Jamal realized he was lying on the sofa in the Riffs hangout. He wasn't wearing a shirt, and there was a bandage wrapped around his wound. He looked to his right and saw Cyrus sitting on a chair nearby, watching an episode of I Love Lucy. Cyrus looked up and walked over, ?I guess that's two times I owe you my life now. Our first aid guy bandaged you up alright, and it looks like you'll be fine. A few inches to the right and nobody would have been able to save you.? Jamal gestured to his throat and Cyrus yelled for a glass of water. A Riff ran in with one, and Jamal drank the whole thing in one gulp, then spoke, ?How did it end??
Cyrus looked down at him, ?We won. After you shot Ismail, they lost most of their spirit. Most of the remaining ones surrendered soon after. The Delancey Thrones no longer exist. We lost about fifteen people, and about twenty more are in the hospital, along with numerous small injuries. Two of yours are dead unfortunately, and a few are hospitalized.? ?How many Thrones are left?? ?About half of them are dead, the rest are being held on the lowest level of the hangout. With it being an old parking garage, there's plenty of room.? Jamal remembered something, ?Where's that gun?? Cyrus reached into his pocket and pulled it out, ?.38 caliber revolver. Same kind the cops use.? Jamal took it and looked it over. The handle was chipped from getting dropped, and the initials ?JH? were inscribed below the cylinder. Cyrus interrupted his thoughts, ?We're going to go down now and take care of those remaining Thrones. Want to come?? Jamal nodded and was helped up. Cyrus threw a t-shirt at him and they waked down to the lower level.
Most of the Patriots were there, along with a large group of Riffs and almost a hundred Thrones in various states of health. Most of them looked like they had been given first aid, and they all looked shamed at their defeat. Cyrus walked to the front of the room and spoke loudly, ?As of this minute, the Delancey Thrones do not exist! You are all to have a choice between three things you can do at this point. You may leave our turf and never return, choosing to join another gang or live as civilians, whatever you choose. You may continue to fight as Thrones, which will only end in your deaths. Your final choice is to throw down your colours and join the Riffs as soldiers. Should you join us, you will be treated as any other new recruit, wear Riffs colours, and have all the benefit thereof. Anyone who wishes to leave, do so now!? A small group of people stood up and left, followed by a few Riffs.
Cyrus turned back to the crowd, ?Anyone who wishes to continue fighting as a Throne, make yourself known!? Not one person moved. ?I assume then that you all wish to join us. Prove it by taking off your Thrones colours and ripping them to pieces.? He hastily added, ?For god's sake just your shirts please!? A small ripple of laughter reached their ears. ?Now, to prove your loyalty to the Riffs, divide into four groups. One group is to go and burn your old hangout to the ground, after scavenging anything worth anything. The second is to take buckets of soap and water and scrub away every Delancey Thrones burner, throw up, or piece anywhere in Gramercy. The third is to go to all stores protected by the Thrones, and inform them that all payments are to go to the Riffs from now on. The fourth group is to go down to East River Park and get rid of the numerous corpses scattered around before the Sunday crowds start to go through. Load the bodies into pickup trucks and bring them back here. If anyone is unwilling to do these things, you will be considered a soldier of the Thrones, and will be taken care of accordingly. Go now. Make sure to pick up a jacket on the way out, it's mighty cold.?
Every Throne in the room took their shirts off and ripped them to pieces, a few going one step further and setting them on fire. They then headed out to do their assigned tasks, each grabbing a jacket. Cyrus walked back up to Jamal, ?Send all but five of your soldiers back to Battery Park, then take the five that are still here and meet me at the pancake place on Delancey Street.? Jamal nodded and walked up to his soldiers, ?You guys did good out there last night. We've pretty much cemented ourselves a rep at this point. It sucks ass that we lost Aaron and... who else did we lose?? ?One of the new bloods,? Denroy said. ?Oh, that sucks, well anyway, Denroy, Branden, Blair, Jack and Steven, stay here. Everyone else, grab the train back to Battery Park. Cyrus told me to bring five people to breakfast, so I'm doing that.? Everyone nodded and left for the station. A few seconds later, the rest of them left.

7:29 AM, February 10th, 1974
Maria's House of Pancakes, Delancey Street, Gramercy, Manhattan

The Patriots walked in and saw a large table set up. Cyrus, Masai, and four other Riffs were sitting down reading the menus. Dawn was just beginning, the light beginning to peek over the tops of the buildings behind them. The Patriots took a seat at the table, and Cyrus looked up for the first time, ?Order whatever you want, it's on me. Oh, and here's your uniform back.? Cyrus threw Jamal his uniform and he threw it on. ?The guys down at the laundromat managed to get all the blood out and sew it up,? Cyrus said.
They ordered, then waited for their food. When it came, they all of them ate hungrily, including Cyrus. After they were done, Cyrus got down to business, ?So, I did a small count of the Riffs, and I have come to the conclusion that we are the biggest gang in the city now.? ?How did you figure that out?? Jamal asked. ?A little detective work never hurt anyone.? Before he could continue, someone behind the counter turned a radio on. The DJ's news segment was just starting, ?There is a huge bit of news out of Gramercy this morning. The Delancey Thrones are no more, it seems. According to our informants, a massive brawl unfolded last night between The Gramercy Riffs and the Delancey Thrones. Apparently, a group of Battery Park Patriots were fighting alongside the Riffs as well. In the end, all that matters is Ismail Rivera is dead, and almost one hundred Thrones have joined up with the Riffs. The remaining fifty some-odd members of the Thrones are lying in pools of their own blood down in East River Park. Also, it seems that, with the new arrivals, the Riffs are the biggest gang in New York City. That, boppers, is something worth celebrating. This next song is dedicated to the Riffs, along with those Patriots that fought alongside them. Adios.? Big Apple Dreamin' by Alice Cooper came on.
The Riffs and Patriots cheered and exchanged high fives. They sat down again and Cyrus continued, ?Anyway, being the biggest gang in the city, I figured we should start up a network.? ?A network?? Jamal asked, confused. ?Yes. Only heavy gangs with big reps will be allowed in, so you won't see tiny outfits like the Gun Hill Dancers or the Baseball Furies in it yet. I figure most of the larger outfits will want to be in on it.? ?Any specific size requirements?? Denroy asked. ?As long as you're heavy and have a rep, you'll be allowed in. I think the smallest gang I'll let in will be those Norton Avenue Saints from the Bronx. They're fairly heavy, and not too big, but they have a rep.? ?So what will be the point of this network?? Jamal asked. ?Any events set up by the Riffs will only be open to gangs on the network. Other than that, mostly bragging rights.? ?Nice,? Jamal said with a laugh. Cyrus looked at him, ?I want the Patriots to be the first members.? Jamal thought for a second, then turned to Denroy, ?What do you think?? ?I think it could be good for us.? ?I agree,? Jamal said, ?We're in.? They shook hands, then Jamal stood up.?
?Well,? Jamal said, ?I'll be right back. I need to drain the pool.? Jamal walked to the men's room. After relieving himself, he went to wash his hands. As he was drying them, the stall behind him burst open and a long haired guy wearing a jacket and white ice cream pants jumped out. Before Jamal could react, the guy had reached into Jamal's pocket and pulled out the gun that killed Ismael, then pointed it at Jamal's head, ?Don't move.? ?Who the hell are you?? Jamal asked. The guy was about Jamal's size and had a really whiny voice. ?You're the one who killed our lieutenant, I know because this is his gun,? the guy said. ?What the hell do you want?? Jamal asked. ?Payback.? ?You know if you shoot that thing in here, a bunch of Patriots and Riffs will come running in.? The guy thought for a second and bolted for the door. Seconds after he was out, Jamal ran out, ?Stop him!? The guy ran across the dining room and bolted out the door, gun in hand.
?Who the hell was that?? Blair asked. Masai spoke, ?That was Luther. He was a lieutenant with the Thrones. He must have claimed allegiance to us to get revenge.? ?Luther...,? Jamal said, ?I've heard that name.? ?They sometimes call him Crazy Luther, because of all the stupid stuff he does. He's probably headed for Hell's Kitchen. He has family there.? Another Riff nodded, ?I know he has a friend named Cropsey back there, we should send a patrol over to Hell's Kitchen and take them out.? ?No,? Cyrus said, ?If he wants to try and get revenge on me, let him do it. He will fail.? ?He took the gun that killed Ismael,? Jamal said. ?It is of no consequence,? Cyrus said, leaving it at that. Final pleasantries were exchanged and the Patriots headed for the station, figuring this Luther fellow wouldn't ever be heard from again. Oh how wrong they were.

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Re: The Patriots

Post by Warriorsnest »

Great entry man. It was great with the movie and book tie in. And adding my gang in too. Lol. keep it up. I look forward to more

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Re: The Patriots

Post by GramercyRiff99 »

Here's the next chapter. Not my best, and somewhat short, but it's mostly just story advancement. Part of this will become important later.

9:51 PM, August 14th, 1974
Patriots' Hangout, Battery Park City, Manhattan

Jamal walked into the hangout from the pleasant night outside. It was a nice change from the 90 degree weather they'd had all day. A small group of Patriots were watching an episode of Cannon on CBS, and a few were sitting at a table listening to the radio. Loser in the End by Queen finished and the news segment started, ?Well boppers. There's some big news out of Coney Island tonight. Word is, a new set has broken off from the Dominators, and they took quite a few soldiers with them. I'll bring you more news on that as it comes. In other news, the Boppers, that small time set in Harlem, squared off against the Dingos last night...?
?Coney Island...? Jamal said, ?Anyone feel like headin' down there and finding out about this new set?? A few affirmative noises came from the group, and the eight Patriots (Jamal, Denroy, Dave, Ann, Glenn, Devon,Steven, and Jack) were headed for the subway five minutes later.

10:37 PM, August 14th, 1974
Brighton Beach Station, Coney Island, Brooklyn

The eight Patriots walked down the steps to street level, keeping an eye out for trouble. They started to head south along Brighton 6th Street. They didn't encounter any gang members the whole way to the beach. There was a bar at the end of the street, so they stepped in and Jamal bought a round of beers (being 21 and all). They sat down and began to enjoy their beers. Jamal talked to the bartender, "So, we hear there's a new set around here. You know anything about it?" "Well... I think I remember something about them..." the bartender said.
Jamal nodded and slid a twenty across the bar. "Well, I just remembered something! They're called the Destroyers. They're lead by a 15 year old kid named Virgil, mostly black kids. They wear a ton of denim in their uniforms, and hold all of East Coney. The Dominators still hold West Coney though." Jamal thanked him and walked over to Denroy. Denroy was playing an arcade game. It was a racing game of some sort, though very primative. Denroy lost the round by crashing into the side, "Goddamn!" "What's that?" Jamal asked. "It's called Gran Trak 10, and it's alright I guess, but pretty hard."
Jamal nodded, "Alright, so I heard about these new guys. They're called the Destroyers, and they hold all of East Coney." "So we're on their turf now." "Yeah." Jamal gestured to the other Patriots, they finished off their beers, and they left.

10:49 PM, August 14th, 1974
Brighton 6th Street, Coney Island, Brooklyn

They knew they were being watched from the second they left the bar. They headed for the boardwalk and began to walk west along it. It wasn't long before trouble found them. A group of guys rounded a tenement block. They were dressed in blue denim and their jackets had the word "Destroyers" stitched across the back. The guy at the front was wearing a baseball cap, and presumably a lieutenant. He walked up, "What are you doing on our turf?" Jamal didn't even bother to reply, "Patriots! Take 'em out!" It was eight on eight.
The lieutenant swung at Jamal, catching his jaw. Jamal spun around and hit the ground. The lieutanant jumped on him, only to be kicked in the stomach. Jamal leapt up and pounded the Destroyer in the face until he was unconscious. He looked up and saw that the fight was mostly over already. Steven and Jack were taking care of the last one, kicking him in the stomach repeatedly. Jamal looked back, and saw something that made his blood run cold. Destroyers. At least thirty of them were coming from the direction of the bar. He made a split second decision, "Run like hell!"
The Patriots took off up Brighton 4th Street. They ran down the middle of the street, passsing through an intersection, with the Destroyers only a short distance behind them. They continued running until they hit the subway tracks, then hung a right to head for the station. That's when they got cut off. Another, slightly smaller group of Destroyers came around the corner in front of them, cutting them off. They were trapped. The Patriots readied themselves for battle, then they heard a voice, "Destroyers! Stand down!" The group of Destroyers fell back to a decent distance, then two figures walked out into the road.
They were both wearing Destroyers uniforms, and looked about 13 or 14. One was wearing a hat and was black, the other was white. The figures stopped a few feet away, then the one with the hat looked at Denroy, removing his hat. Denroy felt recognition leap into his mind, "Cleon!?" Sure enough, it was the boy he'd seen at the subway station two years before. Cleon nodded, "Yeah, I was gonna tell them to rip you to pieces, then I saw the uniforms and figured I'd cut you a break. Denroy, is it?" "Yeah. You lead this set?" "No, my cousin Virgil does. I'm his right hand man though. This here's my friend Vermin," he said, patting the white kid next to him on the shoulder, "I suggest you leave now, some of these soldiers can be a little... unpredictable." Denroy nodded, then looked to Jamal, "That there's the leader of this outfit, so you might want to direct that to him."
Jamal stepped out and shook Cleon's hand, "Name's Jamal. I heard about you from Denroy back in '72." Cleon nodded, "Like I said, you'd better leave, my boys are getting a little antsy." Jamal gestured to the rest of the Patriots, and they followed him through the crowd. They walked two blocks to the station, then climbed up the stairs. There were no transit cops in sight, so they jumped the stiles and waited for a train. When it came, they got on and headed home.

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Re: The Patriots

Post by GramercyRiff99 »

New chapter. This one has some more action in it, but not too much. Let me know what you think.

9:01 PM, March 19th, 1975
Patriots Hangout, Battery Park City, Manhattan

Jamal walked in from the biting cold outside, his teeth chattering from the wind chill. There were ten Patriots huddled around the TV, and another five listening to Harry Truman by Chicago on the radio. Jamal walked over to the TV to see what was so interesting. There was a white machine on the ground in front of the TV, and two small boxes with knobs on them in the hands of Ann and Brad. There was a plastic coloured thing on the TV screen, and it appeared that they were playing a game very akin to Pong. "What the hell is this thing?" Jamal asked. "It's called a Magnavox Odyssey," Branden said, "It came out a few years ago, but they're halting production and it's being sold as a clearance item." "But what's it do?" "It lets you play arcade games on your TV." "You have got to be joking," Jamal said incredulously. "Nope," Branden said, "You put one of these card things into the machine and hook it up to a TV. Admittedly, some of the games suck, but it's still pretty awesome." "How much did it cost?" "About fifty dollars, but I know the owner of the store so he knocked it down to forty. Like I said, a lot of the games suck, but the two versions of Pong are pretty cool."
They sat there playing the thing for a little while, and soon Jamal had gotten the hang of the weird controllers and was playing like a pro. They finally shut the thing off around 10:30 and watched a bit of Petrocelli on NBC. After a little while, Denroy turned to Jamal, "Hey man, this is boring, wanna go up to the Bronx for a while, I heard a new bar opened up in Pelham Gardens. The Red Devil, they call it." "Sure, what the hell, anyone else comin'?" Branden, Brad, Blair, Jack and Steven got up and joined them. They left, then caught the Lexington Avenue Express northbound.

11:43 PM, March 19th, 1975
Gun Hill Road Station (5 Line), Pelham Gardens, The Bronx

The Patriots stepped off the train into a small rainshower, as the station was open cut. They ran up the stairs to street level and started walking. After about ten minutes, they found the Red Devil. It looked pretty cool upon first entering. There was live music, pool, foosball, arcade games, the works. Denroy ordered a round of drinks and they headed off to do their thing. Branden checked out the new arcade games that were there. He chose the one called "Tank", and popped a quarter in. It was a maze game where you play as a tank and try and shoot the other tank while avoiding mines.
Brad and Blair went down to the music area and watched the band. Jamal, Steven and Jack went and joined in on a game of pool. Denroy went looking for some strange wool. After about ten minutes, Denroy spotted some prey. A blonde girl, looking to be about his age, sitting alone at a bar stool. He sauntered up, "Hey there pretty lady. Where's your man?" She looked at him, "I don't got one." He took a seat next to her, "Well you have an applicant for that position." No less than five minutes later, he walked up to Jamal with her in tow, "Hey man, I found myself some strange wool, and she says she has a friend back at her house. You in?" Jamal took one look at the girl, "Damn, if she's anything like that, count me in." He left Jack and Steven to their own devices and followed Jamal.

12:06 AM, March 20th, 1975
Baychester, The Bronx

Jamal and Denroy followed the girl into her house. Inside was, sure enough, another girl. A beautiful brunette to be exact. They sat and talked for a few minutes (turns out the blonde was named Sam and the brunette Emily), before advancing to kissing, then Denroy got up to head to the bedroom. That was when all hell broke loose. They heard the front door open, and a yell of, "We're back!" echoed through the house. "Our boyfriends!" Sam said. "I thought you said you was single!" Denroy whispered. Before anything else could be said, the guys walked in. They were fairly muscular, bald and white. One was wearing a black denim vest and blue jeans. The other was wearing a red bandanna, a blue denim jacket, and jeans. They looked at the Patriots, "What the hell is this!?!?" They blocked the escape route, then looked at their colours, "You dicks think you can just come onto Turnbull AC turf, then have sex with our girlfriends? You're dead!" The ACs ran at them.
Jamal threw himself at one, knocking him to the ground, then punched him in the face, while Denroy elbowed the other in the stomach. The Turnbull threw Jamal off and punched him in the face a few times. Jamal managed to reach back and pull the leg off of a coffee table, then smashed the Turnbull in the head with it. He fell down, and Jamal leapt up. Denroy was brawling with the other AC, so Jamal jumped through the door to the kitchen. He glanced around and saw a bottle of beer and a knife rack sitting on the counter. He grabbed a long butcher knife and the beer bottle, then ran back into the living room. Both Turnbulls had Denroy on the ground and were kicking him.
Jamal ran up and smashed the beer bottle on the head of one of them. The AC collapsed, blood pouring out of his head. Before the other could react, Jamal swung around and jammed the knife into the Turnbull's neck. A burst of blood sprayed across the room, and the AC fell to the floor. Jamal pulled the knife out, wiped it off on the Turnbull's jacket, then stuck it in the waistband of his pants. Denroy stood up, and wiped the blood (mostly the Turnbull's) off his face. After a quick check, they figured out that nothing was broken. They stepped over the dead body of the one AC, and checked to see if the other was still alive. When they saw he was, Jamal pulled out the blade and knifed him, then went out back. They hid in the copse of trees behind the house and made a plan.
"What are we gonna do?" Denroy asked. "Head for the station. We need to get down to Battery Park." "What about our soldiers?" "They'll manage." They ran about a block west to the subway tracks, then jumped onto the tracks and started walking south.

12:18 AM, March 20th, 1975
Red Devil, Pelham Gardens, The Bronx

The doors to the bar burst open, and the whole place fell silent. A group of twelve Turnbull ACs walked in and scanned the crowd. Their eyes fell upon Branden, who had moved on to a game of Gotcha! with some other barcrawler. They looked at his colours, then walked up. Branden didn't act until they were right behind him. He then spun around and smashed his bottle of beer over the head of the lead Turnbull. All hell broke loose.
Branden vaulted over a pool table and landed next to Steven and Jack. They booked out the back door, still holding their pool cues. Blair and Brad ran out of the music pit and ran right past the ACs. Blair cracked one in the head with his been bottle on the way by. Blair and Brad didn't stop running until they hit the train tracks. Steven, Jack and Branden ran north for a block or two before stopping to rest. Blair and Brad ran along behind some houses in a line of trees until they reached the station. Branden, Jack and Steven ran through backalleys for a while and got to the station in one piece. They met up and waited for the train.
A few minutes before the train came, they were surprised by a (somewhat bloodied) Jamal and Denroy climbing onto the platform from the tracks. Everything was going good until the train was in sight of the platform. The sound of an engine reached their ears, and they saw a modified school bus pull up alongside the station. "Oh crap," Steven said. The guy sitting on top of the bus pointed to the platform. A group of Turnbulls poured out of the bus and ran down the steps to the platform. The doors to the train opened and the Patriots ran on. One Turnbull ran just a bit faster than the others and managed to get to the door before it closed, and was swiftly knocked out by a pool cue to the head. The doors shut and the train took off, and the Patriots lived to die another day.

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Kujo_87
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Re: The Patriots

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This story is great man. I think you would've won the final even if the other guys had posted their stories. are you going to update "The Raptors" soon?
[img]http://img80.imageshack.us/img80/8223/sig22ih.png[/img]
                         GO GET IT

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GramercyRiff99
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Re: The Patriots

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Kujo_87 wrote: This story is great man. I think you would've won the final even if the other guys had posted their stories. are you going to update "The Raptors" soon?
To tell you the truth, I've looked back at that and figured that it wasn't all that great. I might update it sometime, but that was more of a practice run, so probably not.

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Re: The Patriots

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New chapter here. Remember to read the flashback in this one. Let me know what you think.

9:51 PM, November 30th, 1975
Patriots' Hangout, Battery Park City, Manhattan

Jamal ran into the hangout full speed from the fairly cold night. He had gotten a phone call about five minutes before, telling him to get to the hangout right away. He looked around and saw what had happened immediately. One of the new bloods, a 19 year old guy by the name of Kaleb, was lying on a cleared off table. Denroy was applying a bandage to his leg, and there was a pair of bloody tweezers sitting next to him. Denroy looked up, ?I got the bullet out, but we're gonna bring him by the clinic anyway to make sure he's alright.? Jamal looked down at him, ?Alright, use some of the cash in our kitty to pay for it.? He turned to Kaleb, who was conscious and swigging from a bottle of liquor to dull the pain, ?Who did this to you?? Kaleb put the rum down, ?Slayers. They came out of an alley at me. I tried to run, but one stuck a bullet in my leg. I managed to get back here though.?
Jamal gestured to a few junior members and they helped him stumble out to Denroy's car, a crappy 1971 AMC Gremlin. Since it was a hatchback, they put him in the back and took the keys from Denroy. Then Denroy and Jamal went back into the hangout. Jamal looked at the Patriots, ?Get together every single Patriot you can find. The Slayers are going down tonight.? The Patriots dispersed to locate the rest of the Patriots and Jamal started writing a direct challenge.

11:57 PM, November 30th, 1975
Battery Park, Battery Park City, Manhattan

The challenge had been ?delivered? through the Slayer's hangout's window about an hour earlier. They had been waiting in the cold since then. It was only about 40 degrees out and the occasional rain shower had come through. In a great touch of kindness, a group of people from the local coffee shop had come by with free coffee for them (as the shop had been victimized often by the Slayers), and the Patriots greatly appreciated it to the point where Jamal gave them three months worth of free protection. They then went back to waiting. It would have made a funny sight for pedestrians; a group of over a hundred gang members standing stock still in Battery Park.
At exactly midnight, the lookout that was posted on the roof of Castle Clinton waved at Jamal. They were there. A mass of red traveled down the main path of the park. Jamal could see their leader, Blade (a bald, white 23 year old), at the front of the group. The gang stopped about fifty feet from the Patriots. Blade and Jamal were looking each other straight in the eye for the first time since the summer before Jamal went to 'Nam. He felt himself taken back to that last time they met, just after his brother was killed during a scouting mission for the Slayers...

10:14 PM, August 2nd, 1968
Slayers' Hangout, Battery Park City, Manhattan

15 year old Jamal ran into the room. Corporal Clegg by Pink Floyd was on the radio, and a group of Slayers were watching Mission: Impossible on the crappy black and white TV. Jamal looked around and saw Blade staring out a window. Jamal walked up, ?Hey.? Blade looked back, ?Hey.? They stood there looking out over the Hudson River for a while, then Jamal spoke, ?My mom's really torn up about my brother.? ?He knew the risks when he joined us. You know that. She knows that.? Jamal sighed, ?Yeah, I know. Only thing is, he was the only source of money in the family. You know my dad aint been heard from since I was three.? ?Yeah... what are you askin'?? ?I want to join the gang.? Blade looked at him, ?Are you joking?? ?There are people younger than me in here!?
?I know that,? Blade said, ?I just don't think you're cut out for the gang life! You couldn't kill a person, could you?? Jamal thought for a second, ?Well, sure, I guess I could!? Blade pulled a small revolver out of his pocket and gave it to Jamal, ?Shoot me.? ?What?? ?Shoot me! If you're so sure you can kill a person, shoot me right in the face!? Jamal raised the gun and pointed it towards Blade. His hands shook, and he dropped it before he could pull the trigger. ?Figures,? Blade said sneering. He picked the gun up and swung it towards Jamal. He pulled the trigger, and a click sounded, ?It isn't even loaded. Get out of here.? ?Goddammit you bastard, let me into the goddamn gang!? Jamal screamed. Blade flipped the chamber open and jammed a speed loader into the gun. He pointed it at Jamal, ?I'm gonna give you one chance to leave here alive. If you were anyone else, you'd be dead already. Get the hell out and don't come back.? Jamal spun around and walked to the door, spinning around at the last second, ?You'll regret this one day! You'll see!? Jamal left the hangout and headed home. Less than a year later his mother would be killed by a drunk driver. It was then that he enlisted in the army.

12:01 AM, December 1st, 1975
Battery Park, Battery Park City, Manhattan

Jamal snapped back into the present. He stared down Blade, and Blade finally spoke, ?You just don't learn your lesson do you? I figured you'd have given up back in '68. Apparently not.? Jamal found his voice, ?I think I've done pretty well for myself in the past while. We're on the Riffs Network, we have a rep, and we've inflicted quite a bit of damage on you.? ?Not enough,? he said, raising his arms, ?Slayers, charge!?
A massive wave of red flowed towards Jamal. They were met by a solid wave of blue (insert US government joke here). Jamal ran into the fray. A Patriot was being beaten into the ground by a Slayer, so Jamal busted his ribs with a direct kick to the chest. The Slayer rolled over and Jamal crushed his trachea with a boot to the neck. An arm grabbed Jamal around the neck, so Jamal shifted his weight and flung the Slayer over his head, then he smashed the gang member in the skull with a well placed kick to the head.
Jamal swung around and ran across the concrete to the trees. He saw Ann being beaten against a tree, so he walked up and smashed the Slayer's head against the wood. A Slayer passed through his vision, so he chased him down and tackled him, cracking his head on the concrete. Jamal stood up, and finally noticed his prey. Blade was running towards him at full speed. Jamal reached down and grabbed the metal baseball bat the Slayer had been holding. He swung at full speed at Blade's head. He made contact and blood splashed onto a nearby tree. Blade hit the ground and yanked Jamal's legs out from under him. Jamal slammed into the concrete and Blade dragged him to his feet. That was when Jamal noticed what was in Blade's hand. A bowie knife. He was named Blade for a reason. That was when they heard the sirens.
Cop cars were pulling up to the park in droves. Jamal seized the moment of distraction to shove Blade off him. He cuffed Blade in the head and he almost dropped the knife, but not quite. He raised the knife above his head, and was about to thrust down when they heard a rapidly approaching engine. Blade and Jamal looked up at the same time, and Blade let out a gasp, ?You have got to be joking.? The two junior members were speeding towards them in Denroy's Gremlin. Jamal and Blade leaped in different directions away from the car. Jamal cleared the car. Blade didn't. His leg was hit by the car and he spun around 180 degrees, smashing into the car window.
The two Patriots jumped out of the car and Kaleb limped out of the back. They helped Jamal get up, then they looked for Blade. They noticed him stumbling across the park on his injured leg, towards the waterfront. The cops were swarming through the park, and the Patriots and the few remaining Slayers were running in different directions. Jamal pulled out his gun and went after Blade. Blade had reached the waterfront, and was trying to steal a rowboat. He didn't notice Jamal until it was too late. He was wearing a life jacket, so he couldn't twist to avoid the bullet that ended his life. The bullet smashed through his head, and a mist of blood and brain matter sprayed out behind him. He fell into the water, his body floating due to the life jacket. Jamal felt a few shots blow by his head, and he noticed the police officers running towards him. Jamal flipped the officers off, and with a cry of, ?Suck on this pigs!? he jammed his gun into his pocket and jumped into the water.

6:35 AM, December 1st, 1975
Coney Island Beach, Coney Island, Brooklyn

Jamal slipped in and out of consciousness for a short while before waking up. He could remember the fight the previous night, and he remembered jumping in the water and putting on Blade's life preserver, but it was mostly a blank after that. He was lying on a bed of sand, and could see the beginnings of dawn above his head. Some shapes moved behind him, and he grabbed for his gun, only to find it wasn't there. He rolled over and found himself staring at a figure holding his gun. The figure pulled it's hat off, and he recognized the person, ?Cleon? That you?? ?Yeah, we found you here about a minute ago, but we didn't want to move you, just in case you were hurt badly. I took your gun in case you panicked or something.?
Cleon and the group of Destroyers helped him to their hangout. Once there, he recounted his tale to the masses of interested Destroyers, including Virgil, Cleon's cousin and the leader of the gang. After he was done, and they had figured out how lucky he was that he didn't get caught in a current and dragged out to sea, they flicked the radio on. Toys in the Attic by Aerosmith finished up, and the news came on, ?Well boppers, we have some big news out of Battery Park. The South Ferry Slayers no longer exist. That's right, the Patriots took them out last night in a massive brawl in Battery Park. The cops tried to bust it, and they were successful in getting one or two people, but the damage was done. Blade's body was fished out of the water about an hour ago. There's still no sign of the leader of the Patriots, Jamal, but we're sure he'll turn up. This one is for you boppers. Adios.? Welcome to My Nightmare by Alice Cooper came on.
Jamal rested a little while longer, then took the train home. He surprised the Patriots by returning, as everyone thought he was dead, and joined in on the massive party that had been started. The party lasted all day, all night, and through the next day and the next night. 1976 was going to be a good year.

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Re: The Patriots

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Here's the next chapter. It's a little more short. Let me know what you think.

10:31 PM, January 25th, 1976
Patriots' Hangout, Battery Park City, Manhattan

Jamal came into the hangout from the biting cold outside. It was only 15 degrees out, and the warmth of the hangout was a welcome respite. There were only five Patriots inside. Carl, Dave and Brad were watching McMillan and Wife on NBC, and Denroy and Blair were listening to Houses of the Holy by Led Zeppelin on the radio. Jamal skipped the beer and grabbed some hot chocolate from the thermos they kept around, then went and joined Denroy and Blair. After a short while, Denroy turned to him, ?Yo, I heard a new disco opened up in Central Harlem. Want to go check it out?? ?I hate disco, but what the hell, sure,? Jamal said. Blair and Carl agreed to come as well. In a stroke of luck, they ran into Jack and Steven on the way out, and they came along. They headed for the station and caught the Broadway Local just as it pulled into the platform.

11:27 PM, January 25th, 1976
135th Street Station, Central Harlem, Manhattan

They climbed the steps to street level. Blair had a small cut on his arm from an encounter with a drunk hobo while changing trains at Chambers Street, but they were alright. The Patriots started walking north. They continued in that direction for about 5 minutes before finding the place. It was a two story place with a big dance floor. KC and the Sunshine Band was on the speakers, and it was an overall fun place. Jamal noticed a strange amount of people wearing purple hats and vests, but he put it up to fashion. He headed over to the bar with Blair (who was also not a fan of disco) and ordered beers. There were a few arcade games set up near the entrance, so they went over there and became engrossed in the two player version of Gun-Fight.

1:56 AM, January 26th, 1976
Central Harlem, Manhattan

?That is one hell of a disco!? Steven said as they left. ?Hell yes,? Denroy agreed. They headed south towards the station. Jamal was telling them how he kicked Blair's ass at Gun-Fight when they noticed they were being watched. A guy in a purple hat, vest, and pants was watching them. ?I noticed a lot of them in the disco,? Jamal said, ?I think they're gang members.? The guy darted into the alley, and Jamal spun in his direction, ?Get him before he can get reinforcements!.?
The Patriots ran after him at top speed. He darted onto West 136th Street and tore down the sidewalk. The enemy soldier hung a left into a seedy looking group of apartments and ran through a door, the Patriots in hot pursuit. He ran up the stairs and ran into a hallway, then he tore a door open and ran into what was presumably his apartment. As the Patriots followed, they heard him yell, ?Cochise! Get the gun!? Blair tackled the guy. A 13 year old black boy came running out of the next room, holding a 9mm Walther P38 pistol.
?Gun!? Denroy screamed. Jamal ducked as the kid pulled the trigger. The bullet flew past his head and lodged in the wall. Jamal smacked the gun out of his hand and Jack picked it up. The kid tried to run, but Steven and Denroy grabbed him and threw him to the ground. Jamal walked to the now subdued purple wearing gang member, ?What set you from?? The guy stayed silent. ?What set are you from!? Jamal yelled, pulling out his .45 pistol. The guy finally talked, ?The Boppers. You're on our turf.? ?You don't say...? The door burst open and a rather large black woman came in, ?Now Mardel, how many times do I gotta tell you to lock the- DOOO JESUS!?
Jamal pointed the gun at her, ?Sit.? She did. Jamal turned back to the Bopper, ?Who's that?? ?My momma.? ?Alright then. We'll be lenient here. We aint gonna kill a dude in front of his mom. Blair, let him go.? They stood up and began to walk out, then they heard movement behind them, along with a clicking noise.
The Bopper had a second gun in the house. A shotgun. He pulled the trigger and a spray of buckshot flew into them. It was a sawed off, so the distance between them scattered most of the buckshot, and his aim was off besides that. One piece found it's home in Denroy's thigh, another nailed Jack in the arm. The rest flew into the walls and door. Jamal flung himself to the floor as he racked the shotgun and opened fire with his .45 at the Bopper. The first shot missed, the second hit him in the leg, and the third found it's mark in the Bopper's chest. He dropped the shotgun, discharging it into the floor, and fell, bleeding from his chest.
The Patriots booked. They ran out of the apartments and calmly walked by some cops that had pulled up. The cops looked at them, ?We got a report of gunfire around here, you boys know anything about that?? ?Naw officer, we was just visiting a friend of ours,? Jamal said. The officer looked at Jack, ?What happened to your arm then?? Without warning, Carl clocked to officer in the face and they booked. The other officer pulled out his radio and ran after them, ?Dispatch! I have a 10-24 on an officer here. Six suspects wearing blue vests and white shirts are fleeing west down West 136th Street. Requesting backup!?
The Patriots took a left onto Lenox Avenue and continued running. They tore past Harlem Hospital Center and ran for the station. The other cop had recovered and was chasing them as well. They practically jumped down the steps and jumped the turnstiles. A transit cop came out of nowhere and smashed Steven in the face with his club. Blair grabbed the cop and literally threw him at the other two cops. That bought them a little time. There was no train at the platform, so the Patriots helped Steven up and jumped onto the tracks. They ran across the tracks and ducked behind an outcrop of metal. Denroy was happy that they weren't running anymore, as the metal in his thigh hurt like hell.
The cops ran out onto the platform and looked around for almost ten minutes before giving up. Soon after they left, the Patriots came back onto the platform and Steven did some impromptu surgery to remove the buckshot from Denroy and Jack. The train came in and they left Harlem, leaving behind one dead Bopper, and several angry police officers.

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GramercyRiff99
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Re: The Patriots

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Just a heads up. I won't be able to update this for a week, as I leave for one week tomorrow, and won't have access to a PC. This story won't die, I promise.

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Re: The Patriots

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I like this story, because you seemed to find a way to blend and organize the movie, book, video game, and your own knowledge all in one, especially in a mature manner.  I think that it fits brilliantly, you even put it in the same reality of the "Norton Avenue saints".  Its not just a story of action, but also a deep story of meaning.  I like how all these events add up in such a great formation.  Thanks a lot.

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Re: The Patriots

Post by GramercyRiff99 »

adam88 wrote: I like this story, because you seemed to find a way to blend and organize the movie, book, video game, and your own knowledge all in one, especially in a mature manner.  I think that it fits brilliantly, you even put it in the same reality of the "Norton Avenue saints".  Its not just a story of action, but also a deep story of meaning.  I like how all these events add up in such a great formation.  Thanks a lot.
Thanks. I actually have plans to start writing this again, as it kinda fell off my radar. Also, I included the Saints cause at the time me and Warriorsnest were peer reviewing each other, so we each threw a bit about each other's gangs into our stories.

I just figure I'll let everyone know that the Patriots aren't dead, and that I have grand plans for this story. I'm not letting it die.

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