GRAMERCY_RIFFS_99 VS WARRIOR_SWAN

[cowboy rules]

The topic is : 'Rumble in Coney'

Rules: No Game referances. You can use any gang you like. Minimum of 400 words.

Judge: Scurvy Dog

Deadline: 2nd July

Post your stories in here!

[GramercyRiff99]

Well, here's my entry, I've been working on it for a few days now. It's called "The Warriors Holiday Special". I had to attach the thing as a .doc file, because it's too long to post here . Enjoy!

[Cubs On The Red Carpet]

thats real cool but how do you attach a word document?

[GramercyRiff99]

When you're making a post, click on the thing that says additional options under the text box. Then find the file you want to attach using the "Browse" button, then press "Post".

[Warrior_Swan]

Here's my entry. Not my best work, I'm afraid, but time constraints screwed me all up. 

August 1977

Part 1

It?s dark, so dark that the naked eye couldn?t even make out the shapes of the enemies all around. Cleon is crouched down, moving slowly along the wall of a warehouse. Unable to see even his hand before his face, he keeps tabs on his aggressors by the sound of their voices and scuffling feet. His hand touches cold metal, and carefully, quietly, he slides it around the surface and hits pay dirt. The door handle. He freezes momentarily, unsure of whether he should make his move yet. He sucks air through his teeth, then holds his breath for a second just as he pushes the door with all his might, and takes off, full-speed down the alley. By the time anyone realizes what?s happened, he?s too far gone to chase.

3 Hours Earlier

Cleon sits on the roof of his tenement at sundown, worried. 15 years old, he is unsure of his life, and worried about his future. The sun appears to be inches above the horizon, and sinking swiftly. The setting of the sun has prompted him to think about school, work, family life, the future. He subconsciously finds the setting sun a metaphor for life; just as the sun must set, life must continue, childhood ends. He knows he doesn?t want to be a Warrior forever. He knows that he can?t.
He thinks very seriously of quitting the gang, and hopes that Hector would understand. Hector is his big brother after all, he would understand, he has to. He shields his eyes just as the sun dips below the horizon and begins to turn the clouds deep orange, with hints of pink around the edges. The hot breeze tugs gently on Cleon?s clothing, including his brand-new vest. It still has that ?new car? smell. He tries to distract himself by taking in the view. Thin, wispy clouds stretch out as far as he can see, all bright vibrant colors. The clouds along the horizon have turned gold, and a little closer, bright orange, and above his head, purple. He turns and looks in the opposite direction, and notices larger, heavier gray clouds moving in? it?s going to rain.

The wind has picked up on the street, now lit by the streetlights. Newspaper flies and swirls around Cleon?s legs as he makes his way up to the main hangout. He moves down the alley and up the little stone stairs to the back door of the burnt out row-home. 
Inside, Hector is with his girl in the easy chair. She straddles him, and they kiss ferociously. Cleon shakes his head and moves to the old transistor radio, and starts moving the dial. Love Gun by KISS comes on, it?s halfway over. Cleon taps his foot and bobs his head along with the music, looking around at the other members. One of the older members moves to the radio, and switches the dial. ?Dammit, Cleon, you been hangin around with white boys too much,? the young man says, and slaps him in the back of the head. Cleon suppresses his anger, knowing that he would just get himself killed.
That?s the one thing Cleon hates most, The Warriors is an all black gang, and all of his friends are white. He listens to ?white music?, rock and roll, because that?s all he hears when he?s with his friends, but he doesn?t care, he loves it. He can feel Led Zeppelin, and loves to rock out to KISS, or Alice Cooper. The gang only wants to hear Motown, Martha and the Vandellas, The Supremes, things like that, but Cleon just doesn?t dig it.
His best friend is so heavily into Led Zeppelin, and Swan Song, and their depiction of Apollo before a landscape  at sundown, that he has been dubbed ?Swan?. Secretly, he hopes that one day he either quits, or Swan is allowed to join. The other guys in the gang are so mean to him, but his friends treat him like a real brother.

Sirens tear through the streets, lights blazing through the rain and fog. A fire engine blows right by the hangout, doing 75 down the narrow street, swerving this way and that to dodge the traffic.
Hector jumps out of his chair and runs to the door to see where it?s headed. ?Let?s go! There might be dead people!? he shouts. ?Awesome! I always wanted to see dead people!? someone else shouts. Hector takes off into the rain, and Cleon follows close behind. The dozen or so Warriors run full force down the street to where the truck has stopped. The spotlights are pointed up into an apartment building where a power pole has fallen and crashed through the wall. Live wires whip around like wild snakes, threatening to shock anyone who stands close enough. ?Oh, wow!? a Warrior says from somewhere behind him. Cleon looks into his brother?s face, and sees genuine fear, something he?s never seen in that face before. It frightens him.
Sparks fly when the rain hits the electricity. A firefighter is on his way up to the apartments on his ladder. After a moment, he disappears into the building. People begin filing out the door, hands over their heads for protection. ?Move quickly! Come on, faster!? someone is yelling through a bullhorn, as the people hurry. Cleon observes the scene. A police officer notices them and begins ushering the boys off. ?Come on kids,? he?s saying, ?move it along, this is not a safe place for you to be.? Cleon notices the power pole didn?t break from wind or stress? it appears to have been cut by an axe.
The Warriors reluctantly turn and walk away, grumbling in annoyance. ?Come on, fellas, let?s get back to the hangout, it?s boring down here anyway,? Hector says.

Back in the hangout, Cleon approaches his brother. ?Hector? you got a minute??
?Sure, I guess little bro, what?s up??
?Can I see you in private??
Hector rolls his eyes, but obliges his younger sibling. ?Now what?s up??
?Dude, that pole didn?t just break.?
?What the hell you talkin? about, Cleon??
?Dammit, Hector, can?t ya call me by my real name? We are brothers.?
?Cleon is your real name when you?re here, got it? Now what? are? you? talking about??
?It looked like an axe cut down that power pole.?
?You been watchin too much tv, my brother.?
?I?m serious!?
?Yeah, alright. Look, don?t drink tonight, you?re already loopy.?
With that, Hector walks away and resumes horsing around with his friends. Cleon shakes his head in disgust. He walks to the back door, kicks it with all his might and steps out into the rain, seething. He walks down the stairs and out onto the street in the downpour. Smokes rises in the distance, somewhere far off, and seconds later, distant sirens can be heard.
Cleon heads down to the ice cream stand, half for ice cream, and half so he could stand under the awning and be shielded from the rain. ?Can I get a vanilla cone, please?? he asks. The girl grabs a cone and proceeds to build him a tower of soft-serve custard on it. She steals a glance at Cleon, and notices he seems a little down, so she builds it much larger than usual. She hands it to him, ?Here ya go, hon,? she says warmly. Cleon is surprised. ?Oh wow? I didn?t want that much, I don?t have much change.? She laughs, ?Don?t worry about it, no extra charge, just regular price.?
?Wow? thanks a lot, that?s real nice of you? here.? He pulls out his 50 cents, dimes and nickels, and hands it to her.
?So what?s your name??
?Cle- ? Patrick.?
?Well, Patrick, my name?s Clarice. It?s nice to meet you.? She smiles.
?Hey, it?s nice to meet you too.?
?That?s a real nice vest, looks new.?
?Yeah, I just joined this weekend, my brother runs the gang and wanted me in? I?m not sure I like it.?
?So what do you guys do exactly??
?Nothing really, we don?t see much action. We just try to protect our home.?
?Well that?s real noble.?
?Sure, I guess.? His ice cream is melting all over his hand  as he fights to eat it quickly, but talk at the same time.
?Oh, I?m sorry? hadn?t thought of that.? She grabs a cup and a spoon for him. ?Here, put it in here, and eat with a spoon.?
Cleon laughs, somewhat embarrassed. 
?You?re a real nice kid? not the gang type I don?t think.?
?Well that makes two of us? I don?t think I?m the gang type either, but my brother??
?You?re loyal to your brother, that?s a good thing.?

?A string of tragedies tonight, speculators say they may be related, and that there may be a band of destructors loose in Coney. Local law enforcement warns that everyone be wary of strangers, and stay home at all costs.? The newscaster on the radio is stricken. Cleon looks at Clarice for a moment.
?I better go,? he says, ?I gotta warn the guys.?
?Yeah, I guess you do. Be careful out there, try to keep that face of yours nice to look at.?
He laughs. ?Thanks for the ice cream, I?ll see ya later!? he says as he begins to run.

Part 2

Cleon bursts into the hangout carrying his cup of ice cream, and flips the radio dial to the news station. ?Cleon!? shouts are heard throughout. ?Shut up and listen!? he screams. It?s silent now, and all eyes are on him. ?- two reported explosions, a downed power line, two church fires, and now a hospital fire bring this into the running for largest night of disasters in New York history.? Hector grabs Cleon?s arm, causing him to drop his ice cream, and drags him out of earshot from everybody else. ?What the hell is going on, Cleon?? he asks.
?I don?t know man! There?s some nuts runnin? around Coney destroyin? things.?
?Get ready, you?re gonna soldier up tonight. Time to go out on patrol, if there?s looneys out there wreckin? stuff, I need all my manpower. Ya dig??
?I dig.? He sounds forlorn.

?Alright, listen up, soldiers!? Hector shouts, ?I want everybody out on patrol tonight! You see something fishy, do something about it! Let?s move, Warriors!? The Warriors file out, leaving Cleon alone in the building. He stares at his fallen ice cream and thinks about the way things are going. How he doesn?t even want to be a Warrior, how hard his mother must have worked just to be able to give him the 50 cents for ice cream that his careless moron brother had just wasted. Thinking about his brother just then prompted him to think about the possibility of him being hurt out there. Everything is happening so fast, Cleon is simply overwhelmed, and tears form in his eyes.
He walks slowly to the door, pushes it open, and steps out onto the stairwell in the pouring rain. A flash of lightening is quickly followed by a loud crash of thunder. Slowly, he makes his way down to the street, and turns a corner. He vaults over a tall fence, and hears voices somewhere nearby. Cleon creeps along the side of a building, following the sound. He can hear them loudly, but is unable to discern their words. He peeks around a corner and sees two men there, one lights a Molotov cocktail and hurls it into the meat market.
Cleon searches the ground for weapons. He pulls a plank off a nearby bench and finds a brick on the ground. He launches the brick full force at the men, cracking one in the face. He goes down. Cleon charges the other with a scream and is surprised by a heavy boot to the nose. Cleon hit?s the ground hard, unconscious.

When he awakens, he is propped up against the wall, his wrists and ankles are bound by a thin, but tough rope. His body is soaked from the rain, and his face is sore. He takes a moment for his eyes to readjust, then he realizes he?s still in the alley. He is forced to watch as the two men throw flaming bottles into the meat market.
?Knock it off!? Cleon shouts. The men just laugh and continue. Sirens echo through the streets, speeding toward them. The man that kicked him quickly cuts the ropes on his ankles, and grabs him, pulling him up to his feet, and yelling for him to run. Cleon has no choice, he runs along with his captors. They run down the alley, and turn a few corners. One of the men opens the door to an old warehouse, and they clamber in. He turns and locks the door behind.
The warehouse is mostly empty except for some steel crates scattered around. The man sits Cleon down on a wooden apple box in the corner. ?Sit there, and keep your damn mouth shut, got it?? he says, and Cleon nods.

The two walk away and sit around a wooden table in the middle of the warehouse. Cleon can hear the two talking, but is unable to make out the words. He sighs and leans against the wall. BANG! BANG! A knock on one of the rolling doors. One of them stands and rolls up the heavy door. A young man steps in, though Cleon can?t quite see him. Several others follow. They take positions around the table, and seem to settle in for a meeting.
Cleon looks around and sees a jagged chunk of steel protruding from one of the crates where it is punctured. He moves quickly over, and turns his back on it. Using his bound hands, he feels all along the cold metal surface for the protrusion. His fingers brush by it, and he positions himself so that it is just between his two wrists, and begins rubbing the rope against it. Within moments his bonds are cut, and he is free. Silently he sneaks in closer to the meeting. Now he sees the young man.. Hector. He withholds a gasp, and listens.
?None of your boys suspects nothing?? one of the men says.
?Nope, not one,? Hector replies.
?Good, right now we?ve got six dudes positioned all around the bank. They oughta have time to get in and out before the cops have time to get away from all the disasters. And for your help in keeping the Warriors off our ass, you?ll get a pretty nice chunk of that.?
?Thanks fellas, we really need it.?
?You got it, kid.?

Anger surges in Cleon, but is cut short when a loud crash of thunder rips through the echoing abyss of the steel warehouse, and the power dies, leaving it black as pitch. Cleon is crouched down, moving slowly along the wall of a warehouse. Unable to see even his hand before his face, he keeps tabs on his aggressors by the sound of their voices and scuffling feet. His hand touches cold metal, and carefully, quietly, he slides it around the surface and hits pay dirt. The door handle. He freezes momentarily, unsure of whether he should make his move yet. He sucks air through his teeth, then holds his breath for a second just as he pushes the door with all his might, and takes off, full-speed down the alley. By the time anyone realizes what?s happened, he?s too far gone to chase.

Part 3

The hangout is mellow when Cleon flings open the back door. ?These dudes got Hector!? he yells. The Warriors all stop what they?re doing and stare. ?Come on! We gotta go get him before he makes a huge mistake!? One of the older guys steps forward. ?Lead the way, little man,? he says. Cleon takes off back down to the street, and sprints full force, all of the Warriors trailing behind. He stops in front of the warehouse. ?They?re in there!?
The soldier who stepped up in the hangout yells, ?Come on out! Let Hector go!? The door opens and a bunch of gangsters saunter out, waving around bats, chains, clubs, lumber. ?So here they are, huh? The Warriors? I thought you said they didn?t suspect,? one says. Hector shakes his head. The one closest to Hector pulls out a gun, points it at Hector?s head, point blank, and pulls the trigger. Dark red gore splatters out of the Warlord, and his body hit?s the ground with a pathetic thud. The Warriors stand, shocked, mouths agape. Cleon hardens, his jaw tightens, and his hands are balled into fists. ?Take ?em out, soldiers!? Cleon screams, and mayhem ensues. The Warriors are outnumbered, but no one seems to care. The battle rages in the intense downpour, and nearly midnight blackness.

Cleon takes a shot in the head, lead pipe. Blood pours into his left eye, but he shakes it off. He turns toward his enemy, and cracks him, but good, with a boot in the face. The guy goes down, and Cleon grabs his pipe. He turns quickly, to see a fist fly at his face, he ducks it, and brings his pipe up into the guy?s gut. He pukes, and Cleon cracks him in the back of the skull. The sound is sickening, a loud echoing crack that reverberates through the pipe. Cleon is sure he busted his skull, and takes a grim satisfaction.
Another gunshot is heard, not far. Cleon looks and sees the man pointing his piece at another Warrior. Before there is time to think, he brings his pipe down onto the man?s arm, breaking his arm at the elbow joint, the bones separating beneath the skin. He stomps on his face, and places his boot into his enemy?s mouth, and pushes down, hard, popping his jaw out of place. Cleon looks around him, and sees only 6 figures left standing, and is sure they?re all Warriors.

?I guess it?s over,? Cleon says with a shrug. He walks away in silence, and the others follow him. They go all the way back to the hangout. Cleon stretches out on the couch. One of the others stands nearby. ?So uh? what now, Warlord?? he asks. Cleon sits up, confused. ?Warlord?? he asks. The kid nods. ?Well yeah, you are Hector?s brother, and uh, well you proved yourself tonight man, led us into battle, kept your cool, and held your own, and then some.?
?My brother?s dead you moron, he died for the Warriors, you think that?s what I?m looking to do??
?Well no, Cleon, but I thought you might at least keep the gang alive.?
?For what, man? Really. What the hell have the Warriors done for me??

Cleon stands, and hit?s the Warrior in the head with his fist as hard as he can, dropping him instantly. ?Yeah, I?m Warlord now, and I?ll tell you one thing, there?s gonna be changes. No more crap. We?re here for one reason, and one reason only, to watch out for our home, our friends, our family. We protect Coney, not rob it. Anyone goes against my word gets wasted, but good. I ain?t playin?.? He storms out the back door, and slams it behind him with all his might, shattering the glass.

[Warrior_Swan]

Hey, congrats dude, you deserved it, your story was really heavy.

[GramercyRiff99]

w00t, thanks Scurvy. Better luck next time Swan, yours was great too. I honestly thought you would take the win here.