"Do you ever think about the normal you verses the hero you became? I saw a museum exhibit that had the original Outlaw webcomics."
"Not really, most people didn't know about the comic, they just saw me. I was cast for a reason, even the comic author said she couldn't picture anyone else in the role after the first two movies."
-- From Angela Rain's award winning interview with Outlaw.
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The cogs in Kurt’s mind grind to a halt.
“You’re shitting me.”
I ain’t pulling your leg Partner. I’m here to make you a real hero!
Lizzy scowls my way, “Really, I’m in my last year!”
“Not you.” He looks at a few more birds joining the flock, “Okay, first, ease up on the old timey talk. Second, how does this work? I could really use some help right now.”
“Who the hell is he talking to?” Walt asks over the phone.
Works for me Cowboy! Now you’ve already racked up 173 points, we can get off to a mean start! Just tell me what you need and I’ll rustle you up practically anything.
Looking at Jen, “Her first.”
Her condition is stable, I wouldn’t recommend wasting early points.
“Waste my ass, no way we’re getting out of this without needing more first aid shit.” He glances up again, “There’s plenty of points available anyway.”
If you say so. Class I Medical utilities and a Class I Wound Stop will run you 55 points. That leaves you with 118 points. Also, are you aware there are poorly cloaked cameras hovering around your position?
“Always are, now do it.”
Lizzy growls out, “Do what? Who are you,”
A small silver case drops to the ground from thin air.
Jen and Lizzy stare at the box.
Walt’s on the phone still, “Guys? Hey! What happened, did something happen to Uncle Kurt?”
Kurt flips open the lid and takes out a pen-like cylinder.
“Holy shit,” Lizzy glances back at Jen. “That’s for her?”
He barely nods before the redhead grabs the Wound Stop from his hand and jabs it into Jen’s side just above the claw marks.
Jen grimaces but then relaxes, “Oh that feels good, all tingley and cool.”
Onto the next problem, Kurt picks up the phone, “Walt, we’ve got your mom stitched up just fine. We’ll make our way out of the city to your neighborhood. Lock it up.”
His mom pulls Kurt’s wrist towards her, “Walther honey, get the shotgun from the compartment in my head board, the switch is under the frame.”
Lizzy and Kurt stare at the woman.
“Love you Walt, we’ll see you real soon.”
“Right,” Kurt peeks over the wall again, a pair of the canine model threes are sniffing around their dead fellows. “I’m gonna need more bullets.”
Well partner, 118 points is still enough to unlock a basic weapons catalog and a nice piece of iron for yourself. The other option is a secondary weapons catalog and something on the cheapside but advanced.
Lizzy is practically squirming in her hiding spot, “Are you talking to one of those AIs?!”
The plants haven’t found them yet, so he gives her the shushing motion.
“I’ve got a gun right here, just give me bullets for now.” Granted it's a prop gun.
I mean, I suppose that is technically a gun. We can pick something that won't make it blow up in your hand. In which case I still suggest something for close range threats.
“You mean like Sarge’s sword?”
“Oh my gosh you can pick a weapon right?!” If Liz gets any more excited there will be some invasive species in the planter bed. She kicks his foot a bit, “Get the hell whip from your second movie, that shit was so hot!”
Oh you can totally afford that!
His eye twitches a bit, “I think I’d prefer more bullets for now… You know my movies?”
You wouldn’t believe how fast I can scan the internet Darlin. Since you feel like keeping your options open, let's pick up an advanced ammunition catalog and save the remainder for a few ‘as needed’ options.
“Um, sure.” He gives the horrible fire whip that burned the shit out of his arm an actual moment of consideration before shuddering, “Incendiary rounds are a thing right? Let’s just start with that.”
Coming right up! Class I Advanced Munitions and one case of Thermo Magnesium Slugs brings our points remaining to 58!
Kurt did go to college, “Hey! I’m pretty sure I said I don’t want the gun to blow up.”
Honey, just trust that if someone figured out how to use it for bullets, they figured out safe casings as well.
“No, scientists do stupid shit all the time. Doesn’t matter what planet they come from.”
…Well you ain't wrong. So just trust me, your little toy should manage that case at least so long as you don’t start showing off any speed shooting skills.
Opening the case reveals six egg-sized capsules.
Now before you get smart, those are speed loaders. Just push the soft side against the cylinder, the gel coating is what will keep your hand from melting off.
Sure enough he can feel half of the silver eggs have a gelatinous quality. Pushing the egg on the open cylinder inserts six rounds with some excess slime dripping down.
After a moment of wondering what he’s supposed to do with the remaining eggs, he closes the case and moves to have Jen put it in her bag.
Hold on, Points reduced to 55.
A black leather belt with small pouches drops from nowhere.
“Thanks,” a scraping noise just behind him alerts them to the aliens getting too close for comfort.
Taking a slow breath, Kurt pops up and fires one shot into the skull of the Model three barely five feet away and another at the second alien over by the stairs.
Both are immediately engulfed in blinding white fireballs!
“Oh fuck!” Liz’s mouth is gaping where she peeks over the wall.
“Ya,” Kurt checks the cylinder carefully, it’s slightly warmer than normal rounds, “This will work.”
A shuffling noise alerts him to a diving Model I, a snapshot on reflex explodes the bird into burning leafy feathers along with the three other flyers behind it.
“Time to move!” Kurt shouts at the other two.
Nice shootin Tex! Points increased to 79! We won't need to waste any on an aiming primer at this rate!
“Not now.”
The three of them scramble out of the planter and make for the casino doors. Model Is dive for them only to be incinerated in two shots.
Lizzy opens the door as they run in only to come face to maw with another tiger variant. Another Thermo Mag round down its throat blasts the plant into burning white sticks.
They duck into an alcove off to the side for the restrooms and lock themselves in the family room.
Jen plops down with heavy breaths on the closed toilet, “Lizz, how’s my stitches?”
While that happens, Kurt takes a drink from the sink and splashes his face.
To my knowledge it's rare to get paired with a vanguard that already knows what they're doing.
Kurt snorts, “I get typecast as a lot of gunman.”
Jen clicks her tongue, and speaks out loud for the AI, “His shooting skills? He prefers the gun range to actual therapy.”
“Hey don’t knock it,” Kurt collapses to the floor against a wall, “Stress relief and job training all in one, plus I can pass the receipts to the studio.”
Lizz jumps in, “I heard your studio might drop production this time. Will you still get paid?”
“I’ll ask the aliens if they want to trade insurance.”
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
“Oh right,” the young woman bites her nails, “So you’re like what, the fifth or so Samurai for America?”
Kurt raises a brow and gestures to the uncomfortably cheap boots, “Do I look like a samurai?”
“No! Its what all the socials are calling the vanguard.”
He just sighs and reloads the revolver with the strange, gooey egg, “Same social sites that are criticizing the studio for using the invasion as a marketing hook.”
Lizz frowns, “Look Outlaw, I’m a big fan, but I agree it's pretty dirty to profit off of impending apocalypses.”
Jen laughs, “Oh the kids these days are so cute.”
“Right?!” Kurt chuckles, “Nothings changed, hell I’m still waiting for those flying cars they promised us by now.”
Would ya like a ride fit for the skies Darlin?
“Um,” his mind stalls at the actual opportunity, “I’m fine with the ground for now thanks.”
Well you’ve got 113 points burning a hole in your pocket instead of alien skulls.
“Right,” he takes stock for a moment, looking at the girls as well, “we need clothes.”
Jen raises a brow, “I think we’ll be fine a little longer.”
Lizzy disagrees while picking a small shard of glass from her bare foot, “Speak for yourself.”
The resident mom won't hear it, “He can’t spend life saving points on a fresh set of shoes and jeans. All of these casinos have souvenir shops and the mall is less than a block away.”
“We get to loot the mall?!” Now the rebellious youth is on board.
Somewhere outside an alarm starts to blare.
“I think someone beat us to the idea.”
The red head grins, “Riots and looting is a treasured American tradition.”
“Ya, this country is doomed.” Kurt stands up, “But, I’ve got a name to live up to and I think laws fly out the window during invasions.”
Gunshots pop beyond the door, “I’m still buying clothes. Anny, I want something that stops bullets and alien fangs.”
If you’re think’n of acid resistant body armor I’ll have to disappoint you with the point cost.
Kurt feels the hem of his jacket, “Surely there's some kind of beasty out in universe with a tough enough hide.”
Oh. Well that's a whole other beast.
“Har har.”
Class I Clothing, Class I Natural Materials Modifications, one Ash Basilisk Leather Duster. Points reduced to 3. Best find some more plants to burn Darlin.
A full sized briefcase drops into existence.
Jen interrupts the loot box moment, “Can I keep the case?”
“What?”
Lizz raises her hand, “Dibs next!”
“Suuuure?” Shrugging he flips open the lid to find a black jacket that smells faintly of burning wood. It’s got a hint of grey visible in the large scale patterns, and charred spine protrusions go down the back.
Ash Basilisks are one of the few predators in the universe uniquely ideal for hunting Antithesis. Their venom spray rapidly petrifies the plant material for consumption. The hide resists most acids found among the lowest single to double digit models.
“Sounds like a great buy!”
You see Honey, most civilizations move past wearing the hides of other creatures by the time they enter the larger galactic community. I’ll certainly say it has a certain rustic charm.
Lizz is slack jawed again, “Fucking sick!”
Jen smirks, “I doubt Sarge’s costume budget could have afforded that.”
“Oh then I’m keeping this for life.” Kurt quickly starts to swap jackets.
His assistant steps up to her job out of habit, “As long as it keeps you alive.”
As nice as it would be to hide out in the bathroom, the three of them know a simple deadbolt won’t hold back a larger Antithesis.
Stepping out into the lobby, the previously muffled gunshots are now loud and coming from further inside. Kurt carefully walks forward, checking angles just as he was taught.
A quick breeze through one of the shattered doors knocks his hat off again.
“Anny.”
What ya need Darlin?
“Let me know when I can afford a hat.”
You got it!
A low, grinding, rumble shakes the building. The rapid shooting pauses. Some of the fancy chandeliers drop from the ceiling and shatter over a slot machine.
A series of chimes ring out followed by, “Step Right up and give me a spin! The odds have never been better!”
““Shit.””
Lizz looks at Kurt, “Jinx?”
A pair of Model threes dash around a roulette table.
“Yup, Jinxed.” Kurt fires a round center mass to each dog, lighting them up in white flames.
Crashing glass alerts them to another dozen aliens running through the door behind them.
“Run!”
Four more rapid shots take down three.
As the trio take off among the slot machine aisles Lizz can‘t help but jab, “You finally missed!”
Jen barks back, “That’s not a good thing!”
You can afford that hat now hun.
Kurt finishes reloading the glowing hot gun. The three of them jump a giant bar counter squared around a fake eiffel tower leg. The bar’s tvs are still playing ads for the mall next door.
“Drop it!”
A case drops, already popping open. Kurt grabs the black leather cowboy hat to match his jacket.
Jen smirks, “Staying on theme?”
“I’m honoring my ancestor or something.” He stands up to take paced shots at the first few aliens to scramble around the slots.
Spilling plastic has him glance down, “The hell Lizz?!”
The young woman is cramming hundred dollar poker chips from an open register into the case the hat came in.
“You’re doing great Mr. Outlaw sir!”
Momma Jenny strikes again, “There’s microchips in every one of those. And I don’t think the casino is going to be open to cash them anymore.”
Overhead the tv ads get overridden by an emergency broadcast of the national news.
“Good evening America, in these trying times we sadly bring more bad news. The second Antithesis incursion to strike the United States has just been confirmed in Las Vegas.”
Jen laughs while holding her side, “You know, I hadn’t noticed.”
“At this time all residents and visitors to the city are advised to make their way away from the downtown area, evacuations sites are being established in the neighborhoods surrounding the city. The U.S. Military is scrambling forces from the nearby Nellis Air Force Base.”
The roof shakes again as the screen shows fighter jets engaging giant birds above the vegas strip.
Kurt empties the cylinder on a pair of aliens and ducks back down to reload, burning himself slightly on the gun metal.
“How much more before I can afford a gun Anny?!” he has to yell over the resumed noise of rapid gun fire from somewhere close.
Lizzy chimes in, “and shoes!”
You can afford a basic replacement revolver now, nothing special aside from better heat tolerance. You’ll have just enough left for those boots and another case of ammo.
Kurt noticed the lack of old timey talk, “get it.”
He doesn’t take time to check the teleporting boxes , instead popping up and killing the last few plant doggos in sight. The gunfire elsewhere slowed down as well.
“Damn these are hot.”
Kurt looks at the red and warped barrel of his prop gun, “Same.”
He will admit that he wouldn’t mind seeing Jen in the black, harness style cowgirl boots Lizz is sliding on. A similar men's pair is tossed beside a closed gun case.
Popping the lid shows two gorgeous, dual action revolvers. Scale-like, black damascus, highlighted by a bone white sight rail and black leather grip.
“I thought you said nothing special?!”
Those are Earth guns Darlin, they hardly qualify as advanced technology. You have 12 points remaining by the way. Would you like a holster?
He’s still mesmerized by the pair of hand cannons. “Sure.”
2 points Remaining.
Another belt drops, and he hurries to put the boots on as well as the gunfire picks up.
Jen wolf whistles while Lizz fidgets a bit in excitement, “You’re really Outlaw now! Please remember the whip!”
“Big maybe, that thing left scars.”
She squirms, “I’ll bet it did!”
Jens heard enough, “Okay, you’re what, 22? That's beyond the 5 year rule.”
“Barely, and I just love the character!”
“Well,” Jen steps beside Kurt, “Then get your own damn cowboy and stop eyeing mine.”
The whole building shakes again. On the tv, the anchor continues, “Of course our thoughts and prayers go out to anyone currently trapped on the strip. As of yet we are unable to confirm the presence of any American Vanguard.”
Whatever fuzzy feelings Kurt was experiencing needs to be set aside for later, “Let’s find better cover, maybe check out the source of all that gunfire.”
Lizz takes one last look at the casino chips, Jenny clues her in on something, “You know those cases he’s dropping are worth more than all those chips you tried to cram into them.”
“No shit?Then new plan.” She dumps the chips and grabs the most expensive looking bottle of tequila she can find.
Stepping just around the bar, Kurt finally sees over a dozen people dressed to the nines in their Saturday night, Vegas best, crowded behind the counter of the steak house kitchen. The ultra modern diner lit up with red lights is now the scene of a last stand.
Cops, thugs, body guards, even a granny with a purse sized nine mil are standing at the counter firing upon the tide of plant aliens stampeding through the shattered main entrance. Model three dogs and tigers, the Porcupine bear model fives, even two of the squidlike model fours come crashing over slot machines and tables.
A couple Shotguns, handguns, AR-15s, some dude with a gold plated Ak-47, all holding back the tide.
“Holy fuck.” Kurt pauses to figure out a plan.
Jen and Lizz backpedal after a single glance.
The younger redhead bites her nail and crouches against the bar, “What are we doing here?”
He passes her the bandolier, “I shoot, you reload, Jen watches our back. We’re getting to those people.”
She looks up at him and then to Jen, stretching her freshly healed side.
Jen takes a slow breath and grins, “Think of it as the more proactive version of running for your life.”
Lizz grabs the belt and stands up, her hands shake gripping the leather so she slings it over her shoulder.
“Sure, just follow Outlaw,” She looks Kurt in the eyes, “Heroes save the day right?”
Kurt lets that hit him to his core, he’s not acting anymore, this is it, “The world kid, but today seems like a solid place to start.”
As the gunfire picks up to hide his voice, he quietly asks the AI in his head, "At least that’s the plan right?"
I’ll keep you fighting to your last breath Darlin.
“Works for me,” holding both guns at the ready, “Let's move!”
A figure in black appears from the side of the chaos. Suddenly one after another, alien monsters explode in fury of white flames. He pulls two women behind a statue as toxic quills pepper their position.
He dashes out with two guns bringing a blazing white end to the giant plant porcupine. One of the squid aliens diverts towards the new threat only to melt in a chain of the ghostly fireballs.
One of the cops asks a bodyguard, “That fella one of your guys?”
A pair of women peeking over an oven shriek, “Lizzy!”
As the rate of blinding flames slows, the tide of model threes surge towards the trio. With a bright flash, a whip of super heated metal, dripping with white fire lashes out and slices clean through the front line of aliens!
One gangsters holding the line at the red steakhouse counter yells over the gunfire and destruction, “Is that fucking Outlaw?!”
Some people cheer as the defenders seem to find a second wind. Blissfully ignoring the previously fictional status of their hero.
Kurt is almost to the restaurant when Lizzy warns, “Belt’s empty!”
His grip tightens on the scorching hot whip. Use what you know after all. Even he will admit it looks cool as fuck. Small, black, spinal bones end in a wicked bladed tip.
But if another squid monster turns their way it’s game over.
You have over 200 points Hun.
“I need a bigger gun!”
A final quake of the building knocks people off their feet, sections of ceiling collapse, all but the emergency lights start to flicker and go out. Sparks of broken cables light up the floor collapsing into a crater.
Slot machines, tile and subfloor erupt, debris exploding across the room as a colossal green worm smashes its way into the casino. Its maw unhinges three ways and starts to disgorge a fresh horde of fodder aliens.
“A much bigger gun!”
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