#Doc Tripper

[xtripper]

Starting a new curated music radio episode, featuring a menu of dark influences, new wave echoes, post-punk fantasies, industrial EBM, acid atmospheres, smooth techno, electronic indie, and synthwave passages.

Hope you enjoy it, and thank you for your attention. 

Please feel free to share any thoughts or comments about the playlist 

[praxcrown5]

"No."

That one word, growled with enough determination to level a city, made Doc's heart leap into his throat.

"Kid! Don't do it!" He shouted into his microphone, then swore as he watched Lightning speed up.

"Lightnin'!"

Doc could hear the young racer's labored breathing and screaming engine through his headset.

"You're pushing yourself too hard!"

"No! NO!"

"Lightnin', please!" Through his rear view, he could see Luigi, Guido and Mater watching him with looks of alarm. "Damn it, Kid! Listen to me!"

Lightning growled at him, low and mechanical and switched off his radio."

Mater zipped up to the base of the lift. "What's goin' on, Doc?"

Guido was right behind him. "Va tutto bene?"

Fuel pump cycling madly, Doc met their worried stares. "Lightnin' is in trouble!"

Both vehicles reversed, shades raised to their limits. "I need y'all to get his attention! Grab what you can: towels, tires, anything! Try to get him to pit next time he..."

The sound of screeching tires caused the entire stadium to go silent.

Doc looked up just in time to see Lightning plow into the concrete wall on the far side of turn four.

His eyes widened in horror, and time seemed to slow as Lightning, a car whom he loved as dearly as if he were his own son, went airborne and tumbled over and over.

Then gravity won over and he came down on his cabin with a metal crunching WHAM!

Doc gasped and recoiled, eyes brimming with wiper fluid.

*Flash*

Warm sand and salty spray blasted Hud's front end as he sped towards turn two. He was in the middle of the pack, biding his time and drafting behind #41 to save fuel. Then, he saw it, an opening between #7 and the wooden fence of the infield barely large enough for him to fit.

He grinned determinedly and gunned his engine.

Just as he anticipated, everyone slowed and moved high to make the turn. The gap widened slightly, and he powered forward, screaming past a startled #7. He hit the turn at full speed, but with a bit of creative tire work, he managed to drift the entirety of the curve, passing all of his competitors on the inside. It was a maneuver that would have wrecked a lesser car, but Hud had been trained by the most talented whiskey tripper on the planet, and his skills further refined by Smokey, whom was a master strategist in his own right.

He sped past his crew chief on pit row. The orange Hudson pickup truck was laughing and stomping his tires, excitedly. On the far side, the flag marshal was waving the white flag.

Just one more lap to go! And he was in first place!

He was flying high as he entered turn two. He stayed low knowing that the outside of the curve had mutated into a nightmarish labyrinth of ruts, some of which were deep enough to bury his front end. But as he adjusted his tires to compensate for the transition from compact road dirt to loose beach sand, he was horrified to discover that a new rut--the sort that would be made by a car whom had spun out and been towed--lay directly in his path.

"No..." He gasped.

Time seemed to slow.

He hit the rut, and immediately lost traction. He tried to correct himself, but he knew, even as he fought to regain control, that it was a losing battle. Before he lost conciousness, his whole body had turned perpendicular to the track. His right tires dug into the sand, and his body went airborne...

No. No!

*flash*

"Oh my God!" Sally exclaimed, and darted out onto the track, followed by Guido, Luigi and Mater.

The sound of her voice caused Doc to snap back to the present. Lightning's still form had come to rest not too far from the entrance to pit row. He was hardy recognizable, his body bent, broken and smoking badly.

Snapping back to his senses, he shook off his headset, backed down the ramp, and gunned his engine hoping against all hope that Lightning was still with them.

4C, 2C DOC HUDSON REACTING TO LIGHTNING'S CRASH CAUSE HE AINT DEAD

You asked for it

[novemberhope]

[drewschermickblindone]

blindone- b3- maniac mansion

Ricky Eat Acid- am i happy, singing_

kay the aquanaut- the circus is coming feat. nolto

The Koreatown Oddity- Strawberry Pop-Tart Ice Cream Sandwich

Drunken Arseholes- Free Knowself Inst

Daedelus feat. Mousey McGlynn & Busdriver- In Your Hands

Kristoff Krane- Balloons (Sector 7g)

Teddy Faley- Darwin Complex

Sadistik- Saints

EPMD- Strictly Business ( Tokyo Cigar Remix )

mcenroe and birdapres- south slope ft stace prints

Serengeti, Sufjan Stevens, Son Lux- museum day

Tachichi & Sixtoo- My Piece Of Mind

sadat x and el da sensei- breakthrough

The Heavy Twelves- Night Tripper

Moodie Black- Hipster D E A T H

George Clanton- Topanga State of Mind

Pheonix Orion & Elusive- hellfire flow

zilla rocca and chong wizard- coppola

Open Mike Eagle & Paul White- A Short About A Guy That Dies Everynight

dren- deserted fort

duncecap and samurai banana- candy cigarettes(feat. spaceman)

existereo- lets kill jeff (hate tantrum) into another another time

MF Grimm- head in the clouds

Chaz Canairy- Pretty Ugly

mestizo- disclaimer

Awkward- Miles Away with Matt Gamin

overfiends- playa haters ft.circus, life rexall

Cali Agents- What's Really Good

E-Turn- Peas (feat. Myka 9)

labtekwon- art

Lt Headtrip- Escape Craft (Shape Remix)

MEGABUSIVE- Caviar

sebutones -08- psoriasis reissue

Train Rawbers- Zapata-physicians

Ten-Headed Skeleton- Planet Punching

Tree Dusk Muir- Withdrawal ft. Doc the Carcass, Ceschi & Demune

the gumshoe strut- sorry doesnt cut it

Variex- Cereal For Dinner

Daedelus- Country of Conquest

phlegm- a room with blue wallpaper

dubldragon.- With You

[ilovedig]

I'm rewatching the anthology for the second time

Why do they go from Shea to Rubber Soul to Revolver to LSD to Day Tripper/We Can Work It Out?

No wonder I was so confused about timelines when that was the first doc I watched.

In this bizarre timeline they created, LSD happened after the 65 tour.

For anyone who doesn't know the actual timeline it's

Sometime spring '65 - John and George LSD

Aug 15-31 - 65 US Tour

Aug 23 - Ringo LSD during LA day off

Dec 3 - Day Tripper/ We Can Work It Out released

Dec 3 - Rubber Soul Released

Dec 13 - Paul LSD w/ Tara

Aug 5 '66 - Revolver Release

Aug 12-Aug 29 - '66 US tour (last tour)

[myveryownfanfiction]

Hey, do you have a link or something to all your Jack Tripper fan docs? Thank you!

Hi! I think there is only one and it should be in the master list under John Ritter. If it isn’t let me know and I’ll go fix it.

[sweetescapetci]

Although Grand Turk welcomes cruise guests, it is secluded and serene feasible to avoid daily trippers by staying on neighboring islands. Regarding a private and secluded accommodation, book one of the Turks and Caicos Private Villa Rentals.

[lyrazehedgieboiii]

I have an idea for sonic boom where sonamy boom 3 little kids travel to the past and you know like maybe accidentally used tails invention...when they are in past sonic freaks out at first but then he’s like at the end “am so gonna be the cool parent int the future” teases amy and btw i love ur stories 💗💗

Haha, of course! I swear, as soon as I got on Tumblr and saw your ask, I was like “OMG OMG OPEN A GOOGLE DOC START WRITING DROP EVERYTHING AHHHH”Sorry I’m a bit late, my laptop’s battery went dead and I was scared that the story wouldn’t save, but it did! But now here I am, hope you like it~ 

“What. The. Hell. Are. Those.” Sonic said, as his eyes grew wide at the little hedgehogs standing right in front of him.

“Hi, dad!” One of the little ones exclaimed. He sure did look a lot like Sonic himself.

 “Woah, Sonic, he called you dad! You didn’t tell me you had kids! But don’t you think Amy’s a little too young to have children?” Tails asked his big-brother figure.

  “T-Tails, seriously, they aren’t my kids! I’m not dating Amy or anything!” Sonic stuttered. The truth was that he was madly in love with Amy, he just didn’t want to admit it.

    “What do you mean, daddy? You always go to mommy everyday and kiss her, and tell her that you love her! You two leave us with Uncle Tails while you go on dates!” The youngest one said. He was an exact replica of Sonic.

     “Be quiet, Skid! Daddy tells us that he loves us too! Right, Blur?” The middle one said, looking over to her right, where a midnight blue hedgehog, possibly six, looked up.

    “Yeah.” He looked up to Tails. “Uncle Tails, did you make a shrink ray? ‘Cause you look shorter than usual!” Tails looked at himself. He looked completely the same.

   “How old are your parents?” Tails asked, hoping he could find out who their parents were. Their parents certainly couldn’t be Sonic and Amy. Amy was only 14, and Sonic was going to turn 18 soon. The oldest child looked about 6. Definitely not Amy’s child. 

    “Daddy is…” the youngest, who’s name is Skid and was about 3, stared off into space, trying to remember. “27!” Sonic looked surprised. He tugged at his scarf. That would’ve meant that Amy would have his kids at the age of 18...Was he really that much of a wimp?!

      “Do mommy and daddy have rings on their fingers?” Tails asked, as if he knew what Sonic was thinking.

    “Yes! Mommy has a diamond ring on her finger, along with some other rings.” So, they were engaged at the time?..

   “Are they married?” Sonic asked, interrupting Tails from asking the exact same question. All three of the children shook their heads.

    “Mommy said that you and her will get married soon, and she said I could be the flower girl!” the middle one giggled. She looked so much like Amy. She had jade eyes, with speckles of emerald in them. Sonic loved her immediately. 

  “Sonic, these kids must be from the future! How did you three get here?” Tails asked, hoping they would say through his invention. 

   “Well, you told us not to go near that,” the oldest one pointed to the machine that the kids came through.”

    “Fascinating. It must be a time machine.” Tails muttered, forgetting about the four hedgehogs in the room.

    “Oh boys! I brought the food you asked for!~” An angelic voice appeared, and the trio ran toward it. Amy was surprised by the sudden warmth on her legs, and found three little hedgies stuck to her, yelling “Mommy!” “You’re back!!” “WHERE WERE YOU?!” Amy wondered whose kids these were and why they were calling her ‘mommy.’  They looked like a mix of herself and Sonic.

   “Amy! Thank Chaos you’re here! These kids are from the future! They came through a time machine! They’re ours.” Amy widened her eyes. She looked back at the hugging hedgehogs.

   “This isn’t a prank, right? You’re telling the truth?” Amy said in a gentle, sensitive voice, which surprised Sonic, as he was used to hearing her coaching, cheering voice. “You know my feelings aren’t a toy you can just play with.” Yeesh, why was she so moody?

    “Ames, it’s not a prank, I swear, they’re our kids.” Amy’s cheeks went red. “No time to fantasize, our future selves are probably worried sick!” Amy shook out of her thoughts and all the questions she had.

    “I wasn’t fantasizing! I was just...wondering…” Amy took the kids in her arms, not worrying about their weight, because of the fact that she carries a humongous hammer. She walked over to Tails and put them down. “So, what are your names?” She asked, kneeling down. Sonic had a wave of pride splashing upon his heart. That was weird. It usually happened when Sonic defeated Eggman’s robots or when he saved his friends. The oldest one spoke up.

  “I’m Blur, that’s my sister, Ariana, and that,” he pointed to his little brother. “Is Skid.” Amy smiled. She couldn’t believe that these tiny little chubby potatoes were hers.

   “Has anyone told you guys how adorable you are?” Only Ariana giggled.

   “Yeah, you tell us that everyday, mom.” the oldest one and youngest one said simultaneously. “I see where you get your attitude from.” Amy looked up at Sonic, who was glaring at her.

  “Not only attitude, but also good looks~” Sonic posed, pretending to flex his non-existent muscles. Amy suddenly was caught in a daze. She had a lovey-dovey look on her face. 

   “Oh no, it’s happening again. Even young daddy makes young mommy all red-happy.” Red happy was the sonamy childrens’ way of saying that someone was blushing. They didn’t need an explanation, they understood.

   “I WAS RIGHT! IT WAS A TIME MACHIN- Oh sorry, I probably interrupted your little family moment.” Tails said, looking at the young family before him.

   “OHOHOHO, SONIC THE HEDGEHOG, PREPARE FOR YOUR DOOM!” A loud explosion was heard, and everyone quickly went outside to see Eggman in his Eggmobile, looking confident, as though he was going to win the battle.

   “Ames, stay with the kids, take them inside, and make sure Eggman doesn’t see them!” Tails ‘aww’ed at the sight of Sonic being a protective ‘dad’, but quickly regained focus, and went on the X-Tornado to fire missiles. Amy obeyed the order, and quickly grabbed all three of the munchkins and went inside. The kids were squirming, wanting to go outside and participate, but Amy blocked the only way out.

    “Mommy, why are you blocking the door? You always let us go Eggbutt’s robots!” Blur cried. Amy was horrified. Will she really be that irresponsible about the kids when she’s older?” 

   “No. Not today. It’s not safe, you could get hurt!” Amy said, holding the three in her arms. She heard their complaints, and felt their kicks, but held onto them anyway. She noticed Ariana scooted away from the cuddle-pile. Amy let go of the two in her arms, and walked over to the bubblegum hedgehog. 

“What’s wrong, Ariana?” Ariana started whimpering, and that got Amy scared. Did she do something wrong? Ariana jumped into Amy’s arms, getting cradled by her mother. The middle child pulled away.

   “I just distracted you so that Blur and Skid could go outside.” Ariana giggled, her laugh sounding a lot like Amy when she was four. Amy ran out the door, leaving Ariana in a puddle of laughter. She saw her targets, and almost fainted. They were battling, and helping Sonic! They were running around, beating the crab-bots and bee-bots with Sonic’s spin dash. With so many Sonic’s at once, the robots were all defeated within fifteen seconds. Sonic gathers his future offspring into his arms and threw them into the air. He caught them before Amy has a heart attack. She walks right up to them and starts to scold them.

   “You two should be ashamed of yourselves! Your father tells you to stay inside, I tell you to stay inside, but what do you do?! You have your sister distract me with emotion, and run outside and help your father! I just wanted you three to stay safe! You’re lucky your dad didn’t scold you!” Amy had a dark and scary aura behind her that scared Blur and Skid.

  “Mommy?” an innocent little voice melted the hearts’ of everyone that had heard her, except her brothers, you deal with this all the time. 

   “Yes, Princess?” Amy asked, but then looked at herself in shock. She was aware that this was her future child, and she was aware that she’d only just met them.

   “I’m sorry I tricked you.” Ariana said, her eyes full of tears. Yes, of course Amy would feel guilty, Sonic just narrowed his eyes at his future child.

   “Don’t get all regretful, Ames. I’ve seen this trick before.” Amy turned and looked at him. What trick? “You used to do this all the time. You’d guilt-trip anyone into getting what you want and making sure you were never blamed for something you clearly did.” Amy just glared at him, his words sinking in. Was she really a guilt-tripper? Well, at least she didn’t blackmail. Ariana made a pouting face at the younger version of her dad.

“Well, this was fun and all, but I think it’s time that the SonAmy children head home.” Sonic and Amy spun their heads to their two-tailed fox friend, who was just standing there with a smirk. Amy felt a bit sad, until Sonic held one of her hands. He smiled. Yes, you read right! He smiled at Amy. She felt happy, and took the kids back inside. Tails walked over to the time machine.

  “So, while you were hanging out as a family, I figured out how to work this thing!” Tails exclaimed.

   “Make sure ya don’t send them to the dinosaur times. Future me and Amy wouldn’t be very happy.” Sonic said, putting his arms behind his back. 

   “You know Sonic, I’m surprised how you’re this chill about having kids.” Tails replied, acting like he was fixing something in the machine. Sonic dropped out of his pose and glared at Tails. He glanced at Amy and saw her blush. Perfect opportunity.

   “Well, Tails, I sure hope we have more than three, cause it must’ve been fun makin’ those kids.” He humped the air as if he were doing that to Amy. Her face went redder than a tomato and she made a disgusted face at him.

   “There are children in our presence! Say something appropriate for once!” Amy yelled at him. He just chuckled, doing his signature rub-under-the-nose thing. Amy rolled her eyes.

   “What’re mommy and daddy talking about?” Skid asked his ‘uncle Tails.’ 

   “Grown up stuff.” Tails said, trying to avoid that question as much as possible, not wanting his future nieces and nephews getting scarred for life. They nodded. Tails turned to the flirting couple. “It’s time for you to say ‘bye,’” Tails said, while Ariana nuzzled into his leg. He smiled, feeling a tear slide down his cheek. He hugged the little ones, and pushed them to their past parents. They all hugged, Sonic tried to snuggle into Amy’s neck. They let go, and they lead the kids into the time machine.

  “Bye, mom and dad!” they all said. Amy felt like crying again. Sonic held onto her waist, making her hit his arm.

   “Yeesh, Ames. I was just trying to comfort you!” Sonic exclaimed, rubbing his arm.

    “Stop acting like a married couple! You two aren’t married yet here or in their time.” Tails yelled at them, pointing at their future kids. “Okay, ready guys?” Tails asked. They nodded. He pushed a button, causing them and the machine to go back to their time. “Future me is gonna get beat up by future them.” Tails muttered as he saw Sonic kiss Amy’s cheek and laugh at her reaction.

    “I’ll be such a cool dad~” Amy rolled her eyes.

     “We’ll see about that.”

                    Well, you never know what’s going to happen in the future.

  This was so much fun to write!!! By the way, I won’t be able to post until the weekend because of University stuff.

[praxcrown5]

Part of my, as yet to be released, Doc fanfic is set during prohibition. Doc ran with a group of whisky trippers, and was discovered by Smokey this way.

this has probably been said before but I'm watching cars rn and I had an idea

we need a prequel about the prohibition cars

cause like lightning mcqueen's racing style originated during the prohibition, right? when people would modify their cars to go fast in case they got caught in a police chase while smuggling alcohol.

so this implies that in the cars universe there was a prohibition and prohibition cars that smuggled car alcohol and raced in their spare time! thats a prequel I would watch

if anyone wants to take this idea and run with it please be my guest, I want someone to draw the prohibition cars (I would do it but idk how to draw cars)

[xtripper]

Horts Ràdio > L’Ou com balla > Episodi III > Curat x Alma Matter & LaJusticia 

Radio show: #darkdisco #ebm #techno #darkwave #minimalwave #indiedance #postpunk #dancemusic 

[praxcrown5]

Doc Fanfic: Sneak Peek

I've been working on this beast for five months now, and it's about 70% complete. The story jumps back and forth between Doc and Lightning in the "present" (AKA 2008) and the past (1947 for this excerpt), as Doc recounts his pre-racing life.

Hud turned off his headlights and made his way into the woods, but not before snatching a pine bough off a nearby tree with his teeth and brushing away all traces of his and the original tracks.  He also used the branch to fluff up the understory plants that had been bent and bowed by whomever passed by, so as not to give away the entry point to anyone passing by on the road. 

It was rough going for about a quarter mile.  These were immature woods, reclaimed after they’d been clear-cut by the Longhauler family, and so the understory was dense with young saplings, ferns, and various shrubs.  Even so, whomever had passed through here recently had done an amazing job trying to conceal any evidence of their passing.  He tried to do the same, moving slowly and methodically, letting the plants bend to accommodate his body rather than just crush them under bumper and tire.

After what seemed like ages, the lower vegetation seemed to draw back, revealing a game trail that was just wide enough for a mature car.  He could see the tire tracks again…multiple sets of ‘em all going the same direction, single-file.   

He knew he probably should just leave well-enough alone…but his curiosity quickly got the better of him and he turned onto the trail, following the tracks as quietly as he could and using his engine only if absolutely necessary.  He kept looking for the light that he had seen earlier…but it seemed to have vanished.  Instead, the trees grew taller and the trail darker as their tall boughs blocked out all but the faintest kiss of moonlight.

He followed the trail for a long time, maybe an hour, long enough that he was starting to question whether or not he should just give up. 

But then, at the limits of his hearing, he heard voices.

He paused to listen.

Definitely a small group, maybe three people.

The more rational part of Hud’s brain was telling him to back away…his reckless side, however, reminded him that he had invested a considerable portion of his free time into this adventure…and he was going to see it through to the end.

He kept going.  Slowly. Cautiously. His tires hardly making a sound.

He could hear the voices more clearly now; three of them…and they were talking about moonshine.

Trippers!

He’d actually stumbled upon a camp of real moonshine runners!

He knew that his grandfather made illegal corn whiskey in the basement of the shop, and many of the times he’d snuck out of the house was in hopes of actually meeting the cars that came by late at night to fill their trunks with product.  He’d only ever got close once, but they disappeared into the woods before he could get their attention.

He was fascinated by them for the sort of lives they had to lead, outsmarting and outrunning the police on a daily basis.  There was danger…but also the element of discovery. Of breaking the rules.  Of blazing new roads…

Something rammed Hud’s back end. Hard.

Yelping in pain and surprise, the young Hornet gunned his engine…but whatever had struck him had also lifted his rear end off the ground.  His drive wheels spun helplessly.

“Well, well…looks like we got us a snooper.” A male voice growled. 

“A cop by the look of ‘em,” A female voice sneered.

He hadn’t seen anyone in his rearview, and even now, eyes darting around terrified, he still couldn’t see his assailants.  Fighting back a wave of panic, Hud opened his mouth to say something, but found himself flipped sideways and slammed up against a nearby tree.

He felt the wind leave him.  He gasped and struggled to draw air into his thermo-respiratory system…but a crushing pressure on his undercarriage made it almost impossible.

He could see the vehicle who had pinned him, now.  It was a dark red Chevorlet pickup that had been fitted with a modified bulldozer blade where his front bumper should have been. 

The other car was a black Chevrolet Master Coupe with five whip antennae of varying lengths mounted to her roof, rear fenders and trunk.  She rolled up beside him and stared him down with a look of pure hatred.  “Got any last words, Copper?” Faster than Hud could follow, panels atop her front fenders opened lengthwise to reveal an arsenal of submachine guns which swiveled to point at his roof and engine.

“I…ain’t a cop…” Hud gasped.

“I’ve heard that one before,” She hissed.  “You know what, Wilkis; you can have this one,” She turned and used her rear tires to kick dirt up at him.  “Make it hurt.”

“My pleasure,” Wilkis crowed.  He began to push forward.  Hud felt his airways close off completely, and the discomfort in his frame and sheet metal was quickly transitioning to a full-body, burning pain.  His frame and undercarriage casings began to whine as the metal flexed to its limits.  His vision began to darken as his oxygen deprived systems faltered.

Oh, Chrystler!  I’m gonna die.  They’re going to kill me.  Realizing this, he mustered the last of his strength.  “Please!”  He could feel the metal of his roof beginning to buckle.  “I’m not a cop!! I’m a kid!  I swear it!” He groaned as the pain began seep into his cabin.  “I swear!” His voice quickly trailed off to a tortured groan.

“Hold up.” A new voice called out.

“Boss?”

Wilkis reversed.  Not enough to drop him, but enough that Hud could breathe.  He sucked in a few sputtering, gasping breaths and watched, nervously, as a matte grey Oldsmobile 88 Rocket rolled forward, looking him over with severe, steel-grey eyes. "He's tellin' the truth..."

Wilkis looked confused.

The Chevy Master looked skeptical.  “What makes ya so sure?”

“He ain’t got a toolkit.”

Both the other vehicles blinked in surprise, then looked at the sheet metal on Hud’s rear, right fender, finding no markings that would indicate the presence of reproductive hardware.

Wilkis immediately lowered Hud to the ground and then reversed to make room for the Chevy Master who began to look him over, checking for any serious injuries.   

Hud was trembling uncontrollably.

“Hey…it’s ok, kid. Shhhhhh.” She cooed in a soothing, maternal voice, leaning against him and gently caressing his fender with her tire.  Her ministrations helped, and Hud felt himself calming down…a little.

“What in the ever-lovin’ hell are you doin’ out here this late at night, kid?” Wilkis demanded.  He sounded horrified.

“Oi! What’s goin’ on?” A new, male voice asked.

“Nothin’, Otto.  Go back to camp.” The Chevy Master growled.

“Oh, hey!  What are we all doin’…?” Another new voice, male also.  “Holy hell, I dip off for a minute and y’all go and catch a cop.  Seriously, wait for me next time.”

“All you all better get back to camp or so help me I’ll find creative places to shove my guns.” The female growled.  “Seriously, the kid’s scared outta his husk, and y’all poking your hoods over here ain’t helping.”

“That’s a kid??”

“We sure he ain’t a scout or sommat?  Those bastards at the ATF have hired locals before…”

At this, everyone hushed up.

Hud looked up, fearfully, at the group that had gathered around him in a loose half-circle.  The two new additions were a pair of black Fords: a Coupe and a Deluxe. The Deluxe's deck lid had been modified and reinforced so that it could hold an entire metal cistern within his spacious trunk.

“Flips’ got a point.” The Oldsmobile said, rolling forward until the appeared to loom over Hud.  His grey eyes were intense and calculating.  “A well-detailed kid snoopin’ round the woods this late at night.  No civilization for miles…”

“I seriously doubt the ATF would be so desperate as to recruit children.” The Chevy Master snarled.

“Cass, even you have’ta admit…it’s suspicious…”

Cass looked like she wanted to argue...but the calculating look in her eye suggested that she was thinking along similar lines as her boss. “Chrysler damn it, Ghost...” She pushed herself away from Hud with effort and reversed to idle alongside the others, lips set in a frown.

“So, kid…” Ghost said in a cold voice that slapped Hud out of his stunned stupor.  “We ain’t gon’ kill ye…but ye better start a-talkin’.” His eyes narrowed.  “If I don’t like what I hear, I’ll take your tires and leave ye out here.”

Hud swallowed, heavily. 

The northern valleys were home to herds of feral coal scrapers, abandoned in the 30s when the bituminous mines were exhausted.  They were scavengers, and normally not a threat on account of how slow they were.  But without tires for traction…

Mustering the last of his resolve, he pushed himself upright and looked up at Ghost.  His wheels were shaking and he wasn’t sure if his voice was gonna work or not…but he had to try.  “I-I…” he took a deep breath to steady his nerves.  “My name’s Hudson and I live in Dawsonville, just up the road.” He paused as his frazzled brain struggled to remember why he was here in the first place.  “I snuck out to go racin’ on the loggin’ roads.  Can’t do it during the day ‘cause of the truck traffic…”

The Oldsmobile, Ghost, said nothing.  Instead, he seemed to be watching Hud’s eyes.  “Why was you a-following us?”

“M-mostly, I’s curious…” He gestured back down the game trail.  “While I was on top the ridge, I saw a flash of light…and, I figured I’d try to find it.  When I was looking for a good point to go off-road, I found tire tracks and followed ‘em.”

Ghost pursed his lips and swung his front end towards Wilkis.  “You was suppost'ta hide them...”

“I did!” The truck insisted.

“They was mostly covered up,” Hud added, quickly.  “Y’all fluffed the underbrush…but you didn’t…”

“Kid, I’ve been hidin’ tracks for years.  I know what I’m doin’.”

Hud’s eyes narrowed.  He didn’t much like it when people dismissed his skill in something, or his intelligence, just because he was a kid.  Hated it, in fact. “Ok,” He shot back with some of his usual sass.  “If y’all are so good…then how come I found ‘em?”

“Oh, I like this kid.” The tank runner said nudging the other Ford with his tire.

Wilkis’ eyes narrowed and Hud began to wonder if it was wise to antagonize the truck that had very nearly crushed him to death not five minutes earlier.  “If it matters,” He said in a more respectful tone.  “Before I started followin’ y’all, I covered your tracks so you can’t see em from the road no more…”

Ghost blinked, surprised, and his expression gentled.

The trippers each looked at each other, then, one by one, they looked at Ghost.

“Ye done lucked out, kid.” The Oldsmobile rumbled in a friendly tone.  He turned and made a “follow me” gesture with his right front tire.

Hud hesitated, but an encouraging nod and smile from Cass and the tank-runner encouraged him to catch up with and follow Ghost further down the game trail. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So…you followed them?”  Lightning demanded, incredulous.

“Yep.”

“The people that just tried to kill you?”

Doc nodded.

Lightning just stared.  “W-why?”

Doc considered the younger racer with mild annoyance.  “What would you have done in my position, kid?”

“Well, duh…I’d have gotten the heck outta there.”

“Easy to say in hindsight,” he replied, heavily.  “But, remember: I was ten and had just had my first real brush with death.  Yeah, I talked back to Wilkis…but talkin’ back to adults was like second nature to me back then.  In truth, I was terrified,” He shook his front end.  “I probably couldn’t have found my way back to the road even if I wanted.”

Lightning smiled, gently. “I can’t imagine you being scared of anything.”

Doc smiled, modestly. 

“So, what happened?”

“I followed ‘em to a camp that they’d hidden under the boughs of a massive oak, and they let me rest with them for a few hours.” He smiled, wistfully. “Ghost made me a small meal, Otto and Flips gave me some moonshine, and Cass and Wilkis entertained everyone with amusing stories from their time on the run…and I once I started to relax, I was riveted.  They were everything that I had been expecting and more, and I lost track of time...”  Doc’s eyes shimmered with emotion just then and he paused, looking haunted.  “It was Ghost whom made me aware of how late it was getting and suggested that I head back home…but…”  His voice trailed off.

“Doc?” Lightning asked, concerned.

The old Hornet closed his eyes and shook his front end.  “I never made it.”

Lightning looked surprised…then concerned.  “What do you mean?”

“The ATF had been tipped off by someone that Ghost and his crew were laying low north of Dawsonville.  The stoolie also let them know that Cass could pick up on police radio frequencies…so up until the time I ran into ‘em, they were bein’ fed false intel, leadin’ em to believe that the feds were focusing their efforts on Gainesville.  So, while they were taking some time to relax, the ATF and the FBI were setting up road blocks, and having teams advance on multiple fronts hoping the either kettle ‘em or flush ‘em south so that they could trap ‘em in Dawsonville.” 

Lightning’s eyes widened.  “You got caught up in it all, didn’t you?”

Doc’s expression was pained.  “Yeah.  Yeah I did…”

Unfortunately, I don't have proper references for all of the trippers, but here are the photos that I referenced for each character:

Ghost (O.W. modified 1949 Oldsmobile 88 Rocket)

Cassie (O.W. 1941 Chevrolet Master Deluxe Coupe)

Wilkis (O.W. 1945 Chevrolet Pickup Truck)

Otto (O.W. 1940 modified Ford Deluxe)

Flips (O.W. 1940 Ford Coupe)

[nauseateddrive]

3 POEMS by Dana Miller

MX-76

Sneerwise, I’ve seen better Dearborn, without the metal I’d go on to abort you like any other paperweight hitchhiking across my belly and just that fast Grace Kelly has figured out the new math, I’m afraid and lordess, but you’re a strict equation Despite the munitions manifest under the crown of your abdication I just keep on loving you like caloric restriction and late-70s cocaine stretching myself out like St. Swithin’s Day across your salt lick whole oceans of Tawny Kitaen Ready for my Helen Reddy moment I’d sober up if I were you The flecks of Roberta Flack in me will leash every lime tiger leaping out of your 43rd-floor window with a piano strapped to its back

It Glows Under The Half-Smirk

the things you learn while killing yourself... down the end of your own dick, I got my comeuppance quick. this wasn’t like ingestion of the ancestor.

the things you’ll hear in a drowned meadow... I used to think you were a nice bunch of guys, ever out of cigarettes, packs on packs of lies. you thought you burned all the blooms of my life. shark-faced cars for the shark-toothed wife

the way things will phrase themselves in a dream… the porcelain horseshoes of your bent vision. the drugs in your dance have all ditched me, by and by. what’s left is streaks of lightning-blonde--celestial harlot dye.

no truck now for the very idea of you, the two times needles, the twice j’taime. whyever wouldn’t I get off my face? it’s hard, after all, to have fins in this place, where pelicans regard the curvature of the world, and your doormat-ador sneers-- seven full galaxies of dream on.

Last Lighthouses a riff for the faithless majority

You’ll come to know the type You’ve given them all 13 years or more--full of hummable introspection and the most famous rock stars in the world--to say nothing of your dose-dense soul bandying about your hopes and fears built entirely on bracellae and boustrophedon They will come to your birthday parties and you will go to them at Christmas It will seem the safest and most naturally warm thing in the world to lean your full weight on the concrete of their love (though you might as well be giving birth in the High Arctic) Ta, but how the best ones will swear they love you Til you roundly disappoint yourself and believe It’s only when your weight-bearing hand goes crashing through what you thought was such an indomitable, vertical construction of care that you see it was always made of wet newspaper--and you, my dear, are just a penny gaff girl in the back rooms of their subconscious public houses Then, they’ll quietly sneak round the sticky corners of your rawest self—of the actual show-up time—like white privilege guilt-trippers always do in the face of the real ghetto into invisibility into convenience into convention into covering for him--he is their son, after all (even if they would say they didn’t raise him to act like this) there are twins here for sure, but never once (or ever) a twin flame. To the comforts of conformity, even your last lighthouses will bend Away from responsibility and respectability Away from decency and all their debts you owe Away from everything you thought they’d be weddings don’t count, didn’t you know? Ohhh.......You thought they meant always? worse: you thought they meant like you do—didn’t you? Oh what a laugh-a-minute you are Remember? They even told you how funny and fun you are for parties they don’t admit going to What a lift you give to others, they praise! What a joy to all their days! you should always be around, except when you shouldn’t. and you, precious little idiot, you believed there weren’t any shouldn’ts just because you don’t have any for them—didn’t you? Awww....did you write them a Valentine too? Ha. Sorry, but the joke’s absolutely on you. When you’ve been dead about a week curled up like a conch

on the kitchen floor crying hysterically, on the hour every hour, like a beaten child and every bit as confused watching the door and mapping the bruise This is when you’ll realize that they have always been irrelevant It was only ever your heart feasting on the time their mouse your elephant --trunk and memory, that is. For a flash your tear-gasps will morph into insano-giggles as you imagine telling them to go fuck themselves straight off Then you dream of tricking them into a lunch date where really you’re going to FedEx their whole human bodies, post haste, to the same ruinous wasteland where they’ve so nonchalantly annexed you But you can’t find the address. Even after sifting meticulously through whatever shards remain of your blown-out heart, it isn’t there. Damn. Lucifer probably bought it off Judas and stuffed the only copy in his back pocket for safekeeping. in Hell all the prettiest ones are sooo smart. like they always said you were Funny. Rolling over to try and die one more time again, you will bump noses with the one and only Michael Hutchence, right there stretched out next to you, but not quite how you always dreamed it rather like a canebrake of the afterlife like an invigilator this is autoplatonic strangulation after all Devil Inside and that Oh God, how you love(d) that bacchus boy Oh Mab, how you willed this fall Eventually, once you’ve died all you can die and died some more something invisible will remind you of Patti Smith and you’ll remember that you have to get up off the kitchen floor You still have to get up every day and dress in battered menswear like her so you can write revolutionary poems—but be the kind of skinny only artistic girls can get Even if you don’t yet have a Robert Mapplethorpe to switch stripey shirts with in the paint-spatter of afternoon light Even if you still relentlessly wait for them, sometimes, late later, latest in the grin-less night.

Dana Miller is a giggling wordsmith and mega-melomaniac from Atlanta, Georgia. When not wielding a lethal pen, she adores surf culture, Australian grunge rockers, muscle cars, Epiphone guitars, glitter, Doc Martens, and draft horses. Oxford, England is her spirit-home and Radiohead is holding the last shard of her girlhood heart.

[protego-et-servio]

DeviantArt Report & Block List

If you don’t want to see:

minors in vaguely sexual to outright obscene fetish art (ie child porn)

galleries with stolen - often nude - selfies with no verification of age or consent

galleries full of upskirts or “candid” shots (meaning they weren’t consented to)

Then here’s some DeviantArtists to block and/or report:

Collection of Stolen Nudes:

HermiOdle12

Sexualizes Underage Characters

KishiAnimation (mostly twerking butt gifs, but some are underage)

LaszlVFX

Natsuko-Hiragi

StormFedeR

cabroon (tw: rape and racist depiction of Native American)

ScreamPunkArts

letiprincess

Thor2D (tw: fetish art of hanging, scalping, incest, violence, and more.)

TG-Cradle

Layerth

Nivek15

Kurocaze

Sonson-sensei

Raya100

Autotaped

Girltrapped (also racist)

Sexualized Characters From Children’s Cartoons - (adults from cartoons or characters with ambiguous ages; often fetishy) ((I may have mistakenly put them here if I’m not familiar with the original show, cartoon, comic, video game, etc and ages of the characters.))

Danmakuman

Layerth (nude versions of underage characters available for a price)

Day-Tripper-Guy

FidzFox

LethalTK

Bxblazexd

AdultArt1

OddMachine

Bo-The-Sno

More explanations on this Google Doc. I’ll add to this as I come across more galleries. Feel free to add on to this list or give me names to add.

[misterheartbreakprince]

spontaneous hike on the Abel Tasman Coastal Track - in flip-flops with two children

Abel Tasman Track short trip

In Nelson you definitely have the biggest choice in the region when it comes to accommodation. Most day trippers look for accommodation in Kaiteriteri. This is not the closest place to the entrance of the national park (that would be Marahau), but it is the place with the bigger tourist infrastructure. In May it usually becomes more unsteady (comparable to our November). May can still be beautiful on the North Island, but in the southwestern fjord country it is already autumnally unstable and snow can fall, which also has its charm. If you are travelling with a rental car, just follow the directions to your first accommodation.

The diversified kayak tour on the sea leads through a canyon and numerous beautiful bays.

The skipper takes the interest of the tourists into account and then drives extra slowly.

From there you continue through rich coastal forests until you finally arrive at the golden sandy beach of Bark Bay.

I didn't include the bus ride days from Wainui in my planning.

Exploring New Zealand on foot is not only the cheapest but also the probably most spectacular option.

Another possibility is to park one in Wainui and one in Marahau if you have two cars available thanks to a larger group. Such a beautiful hike and then still along the water is just the perfect combination.

Abel Tasman Coast Track - The Adventure continues on foot

If you want to be on the safe side, simply take the only 20 minutes longer "All Tidal Track" along the edge of the bay. Afterwards it goes relatively steeply up to a small saddle, on the other side of which you soon reach Tonga Quarry, an old quarry. Read more about campervan hire New Zealand here. There are no refreshment stops along the trail. Therefore, even on a day hike, you have to carry everything you need. For me this hike was one of the most beautiful experiences in New Zealand. This iframe contains the necessary logic to handle Gravity Forms forms with AJAX. Get the latest weather reports in advance and follow the DOC rules of conduct and safety instructions.

[fanzineist]

Fanzineist Vienna Art Book & Zine Fair 

24-26 May, 2019

Nordbahnhalle -  Leystraße 157, 1020 Vienna, Austria

Project Directors: Deniz Beşer & Deniz Güvensoy

Supported by: Bundeskanzleramt Österreich, Kulturabteilung der Stadt Wien (MA 7), ÖH - Österreichische Hochschüler_innenschaft, Nordbahnhalle,  TU Wien, Klima Energie Fonds. HochschülerInnenschaft an der Universität für angewandte Kunst Wien (hufak)   Contributed by Stockholm Performance Art and Istanbul Performance Art

2019 Exhibitors

3 kittens from moon (Vienna, AT)                                              

Akulka (Moscow, RU)

Are We There Yet Magazine  (Vienna, AT)

Auslöser (Vienna, AT)

Bahoe Books (Vienna, AT)

Bernhard Cella - Salon für Kunstbuch (Vienna, AT)

Carlos Vergara (Barranquilla, CO / Vienna, AT)

Carol Barbour (Toronto, CAN)

Colleen Anderhub (London, UK)

Damocle Edizioni (Venice, IT)

DEPOSIT (Budapest, HU)

DIN - Drawn Into Narrative ( Vienna, AT)

Dirty Flower Press (Berlin, DE)

Edition Dostal (Vienna, AT)

Epileptic Media (Vienna, AT)

Eva Jaroňová (Brno, CZ)

FOMO (Istanbul, TR)

Franz the lonely Austrionaut (Vienna, AT)

Handshake (Valencia, ES)

Heyt be! Fanzin (Istanbul, TR / Vienna, AT)

Hurrikan Press (Budapest, HU)

Industrias Doc (Barcelona, ES)

Jack Kollektiv  (Vienna, AT)

Kristian Ujhelji (Vienna, AT)

Kudla Werkstatt (Prague, CZ)

Livor Mortis Zine (London, UK)

Mass Control Superviolence (Vienna, AT)

mischen  (Vienna, AT)

MOSHI (Baden, DE)

Moshpit  (Leipzig, DE)

Multiple Spirits  (Tokyo, JP / Vienna, AT)

Nase Zine (Vienna, AT)

pAф (Vienna, AT /  Sofia, BG)

PageFive (Prague, CZ)

Pirol (Vienna, AT)

Rada Nastai (Berlin, DE)

Risotop Verlag (Leipzig, DE)

RRevue / Schnösel mösel (Leipzig, DE)

Sakura (Vienna, AT)

Tales of Narwhales / by Katja Hasenöhrl (Vienna, AT)

Taumatropo Libros (Vienna, AT)

TheHiddenRiver (Munich, DE)

TLTRPreß (Berlin, DE / Prague, CZ )

UnterPalmen (Vienna, AT)

Viktoria Strehn & Erik Norden  (Vienna, AT)

Volcano Club (Marseille, FR)

Well Gedacht Publishing  (Vienna, AT)

ztscrpt (Vienna, AT)

————————————————————————————————————–

FANZINEIST EXHIBITIONS:

Fanzineist Vienna Art Book & Zine Fair  International Art Book& Zine Exhibition:

Eva Fenz, Yusuf Murat Şen, Lucky Punch Press, Die Brueder Publishing, Torso Zine,  Olga Stefatoy,  Jens Besser,  Sezgin Boynik (Rab Rab Press), KLD Repro,  DEFACED by Olivia Browne, Flowyage, Livor Mortis Zine, New Poetic of Labor, Lena Wurz, Sophia Hembeck, Lex Kartane, (AIWS), Out of Darkness Fanzine, Zeynep Beler, Emin Yu, Lupemacanudo, Michael Dietrich, Asta D., Miss Eve, Irena Silic, Lolli Editions, Lea Schnell & Lena Wittman, Emekci Sair, James Turek, Father Zine (Valdir Ramos), Henry Jaepelt, Elmonstruodecoloresnotieneboca, Kati Szilagyi, Thomas Wellman, Lukas Verstraete, Roni Fahima, Benjamin Courtault, Gözaltı Fanzine, Suimasen Turkey, Dinçer Dökümcü, Erdem Varol, Arzu Arısoy, Onur Girit, Hrisitina Tasheva, Stefan Alexander, Ruben Malia, Pietra Publications, Rurality (Null Set Magazine & SLAG Magazine), Judith Erwes, Hugo Tripper (Publiko), Fail Books,  and many mores.  

———————————————————————————————————

Heyt be! Chronology & Mini Zine Archive from Turkey

Curator & Installation: Deniz Beşer

Turkey has a long tradition of censorship but Zines are documents and snapshots of society without the censored voice. The installation displays Heyt be! Fanzin’s all issues, some selected zines and other forms of selfpublications from Turkey, going back to the 1990s to today

Heyt be! Chronology & Mini Zine Archive from Turkey: Mondo Trasho, Spastik Eroll, Nase Zine, Çizgi Fanzin, Heyt be! Fanzin, Fomo fanzin, Santigrad100, Paslı Teneke Fanatik Magazin, Taxidermia Fanzine, Güzel, Shadow Of A Doubt, Efkar Records, Mirror Selfieholic, Falçata, Why Has Nobody Noticed This, Diplo Docus, Medya Tavırs Fanzine, Hayta, Anarşist Vegan Queer Gün, Eblek Hardcore, Ver Leftere,Yelloz, Genedoğum, Haylaz Eroll, Fanzin Literarü, Frozen Kuken 45 C, Sünnet Fanzin, Mono Propaganda

——————————————————————————————————–

Data Loam Book Prototype, 2019

(FWF-PEEK project Data Loam: “Sometimes Hard, Usually Soft. The Future of Knowledge Systems.”)

http://www.dataloam.org/

Artists:

Maximilian Gallo

Monica C. LoCascio

Ivonne Gracia Murillo

Istem Özen

—————————————————————————————————————

Istanbul Performance Art: Antonio Irre, Marija Griniuk, Pınar Derin Gençer, Roi Vaara, Viviana Druga.

—————————————————————————————————————

Stockholm Performance Art: István Kovács, Jasmin Schaitl.

—————————————————————————————————————

[avaleon]

A chill had crept into his bones somewhere in the Savage Divide the night before and was quickly sapping the strength from Nate’s limbs. The herbal tablets he took at the early onset of symptoms weren’t doing anything for his worsening condition and he didn’t have any other medications. Any attempt to think back to the onset of illness was futile as his memory failed. Whatever this was, it was neurological. His only saving grace was he had made it past the mountains and was now in the safer region of the forest.

Nate tried in vain to get a fire going but his hands were clumsy and uncooperative as his feet were. He shivered uncontrollably, huddled in the corner of the decrepit building that was once a coffee shop. If he was more alert he would have noted the open windows provided no shelter from inclement weather and the building was too close to the road, leaving him exposed to the threats of West Virginia. Against his will, Nate fell asleep.

***

He woke with a start with someone nudging his foot, going for his knife before the figure standing over him help up their hands.

“Easy, friend. You look to be in bad shape.”

Their voice was calm and confident. Nate’s blurred vision disallowed for the man to come into clarity.

“You have a very high fever,” the man continued, “What other symptoms are you experiencing? Pain? Nausea?”

Nate struggled to find his voice, “Can’t walk, numb.”

He tried to move only to find his body stiff and painful. He growled in agony.

“I’m a doctor, I can help. If it’s okay with you I am going to check your skin for lesions” he stated.

Nate barely had time to nod before the stranger was undressing him to expose his upper body. He shook his head and made a disapproving noise as he stripped Nate down to his pants and boots.

“Swollen, purple lesions. No weeping or oozing. Would you said you have sudden limb paralysis?”

Nate nodded again. The doctor poked a few of the purple spots on Nate’s chest and hummed to himself. He stood and went to his duffle bag that was laying on the ground. Keeping his mind focused on the stranger was more than Nate could handle and he struggled to remain conscious.

“Without bloodwork, I can’t be sure but I believe you have a severe case of asthenia from an acute bacterial infection. Some strong antibiotics and a day of rest and you should make a full recovery. Diseases these days are much more powerful,” he chuckled as if he’d made a joke.

Nate heard the sharp click of glass-on-stone and water splashing. The stranger was standing over him again. Sharp pain in Nate’s arm followed and Nate’s consciousness wavered once again.

***

His fever broke in the night and the pain left with it. By morning, Nate’s vision had returned to normal and he was able to properly get a sense of his surroundings. The doctor, a fairly tall man with blond hair and far too attractive to be a survivor, slept soundly beside the extinguished remains of a fire. A pip-boy was latched onto his left forearm.

Nate tried to stand only to slip and crash to the ground, accidentally kicking over a cup of water by his feet.

“Easy,” the doctor said sleepily, “flap limb takes a few hours to wear off after antibiotics.”

Nate looked at the man in more length, he was Nuka-boy pretty with bright eyes and a look of intelligence to him he didn’t like.

“Thank you.”

The man smiled warmly, unnerving Nate, “ My pleasure, you’re lucky I was in the area. You would have died.”

The thought had passed his mind though he would never admit it to a stranger. He was already uncomfortable with the idea of being indebted to someone he didn’t know.

“Are you really a doctor?”

The man let out a short laugh, “Yes. Fully licensed before the war. I am the head of Medicine in Vault 76.”

Nate kept it to himself that he knew that was no longer the case, Casey had made it clear their former titles meant little outside the Vault. This doctor was a reclaimer now, just like Casey and the other vault dwellers dying across Appalachia. He wondered what this ‘doctor’ was after.

“What do I owe you?”

“For now, nothing,” the doctor began, “I am looking for someone who knows the region, however. A guide.”

“What makes you think I do?”

“Come now, I wasn’t born yesterday. You were not in the Vault, you smell as if you have been living off the land for longer than I have been alive and look the part too,” he quirked an eyebrow at Nate, “I can pay you, of course. I happen to sell my services to the unfortunate few of Appalachia and chems to the needy. We all have our vices.”

Nate’s eyes shot to his pack and he got the feeling this doctor had gone through his belongings. The day tripper and calm-x in his bag were tucked into the side pocket and the buffout and bufftats were in the main compartment beside his water purifier and dried radstag.

“I’m not for sale.”

“Of course not. This will have to be a mutual agreement. Not constant, of course.”

His eyes moved over the doctor again. There was a dark stain on the bottom of his lab coat, possibly old blood given the colour. He was tall but slim in build, capable looking and Nate knew there was more information in that pip-boy than in any of Nate’s maps.

The doctor continued, “I know you probably haven’t met many vault dwellers but I promise you we are a resilient and hard-working people.”

In one sentence the man had insulted Nate more than any other vault dweller he had met so far. Nate huffed and shook his head, these vault dwellers were all the same, arrogant and overconfident. Casey was the only person he has met thus far that had any sense to him.

The doctor continued to bargain, “How about you just escort me to Helvetia and we can decide from there. I’ll give you two doses of antibiotics for the journey.”

Despite his gut, Nate agreed. If the man was a threat, he would just have to deal with him later.

The doctor smiled, “Excellent. What should I call you?”

“Call me Lobo,” Nate replied after a short pause, drawing on the nickname Casey had gifted him recently.

“Dr. Covington, please to meet you Lobo.” he held out one of his too-clean hands for Nate to take.

“Nice to meet you, Doc.”

Casey Loomis and Robert Covington belongs to @tonightinthewasteland