<div align="center">(http://i.imgur.com/OnqMmWe.png)</div><br/><em>GOMORRAH</em>: A bustling holding, home to some two hundred and fifty souls and scrapped together around a well that gives up clean, pure water.  The hardholder, a woman named Esther who ousted the previous ruler with the force of a bunch of guns and even more brutes with baseball bats and steel poles, has been sitting in the walled compound at the far end of the town for about three years, about a third of the place's life.  She doesn't have a lot of rules, but she ones she does have are enforced brutally: don't fuck with Esther, don't fuck with the water, don't fuck with the hunters or the fishers. Beyond that, Gomorrah's pretty lawless -- and if Esther and her crew gotta step in to fix a problem, nobody goes home happy.<br/><br/>There's a little river that runs by the place, more like a creek, but people who drink out of it get sick, and they stay sick for weeks a time.  It's bad news.  They pull fish out this river that're like a meter long sometimes, though, and cooked right, they're good food.  Hunters branch out, looking for the massive rodents that make their way out in the dusty reaches, and sometimes go further off, plucking gleaming white beetles the size of a fist from the trunks of trees in the sparse woods that shoot up here and there.<br/><br/>Most of the buildings here are scratched together from spare parts, disassembled cars, cinder blocks, trees -- whatever people had on hand to build some shelter from the fucking sun, filled with whatever they've managed to bring with 'em or build themselves.<br/><br/>And, at least for now, it's home.<br/><br/><strong>RUTH</strong><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide</div><div class="spoiler_body">It's late afternoon, coming on evening; the sun's been up all day, it's hot as hell, but at least it's a little bit cooler out front of the infirmary, where Anise put up a nice cloth overhang to provide some shade.  She's not there now; off doing errands of some sort or another, but John's around, sitting on an old chair that's suffered some damage and the stuffing's sticking out every which way.  It doesn't take away much from the ugly brown-and-yellow floral pattern, though.  He's drinking from a glass of water and looking out down the street.  For its size, Gomorrah's pretty bustling, and John, he's a people watcher.<br/><br/>The water in his glass, like in the pitcher on the upside-down bucket he's using as a table, is sparkling pure, Gomorrah's big claim to fame: water enough for everyone, all the time, and cleaner than you'll ever goddamn believe if you've never been.  He holds it up to his face and looks through it every now again; the water is clearer than the glass that holds it.<br/><br/>Sometime's John's talkative, but sometimes he just rambles, like he doesn't really care if anybody's listening to him or not.  Now's not one of those times, though, he's mostly sitting quiet, sipping his water, people watching.  And then he says, "Hey, Ruth,"  and he points out down the street toward someone stumbling along toward the infirmary.  Other people out there stare, some of 'em move out of the way.  "Hey, Ruth, is that Anise?"<br/><br/>Whoever it is, they're in bad shape, staggering, and pretty fucking bloody.<br/><br/><strong>Ruth,</strong> what do you do?</div></div><br/><strong>JACK</strong><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide</div><div class="spoiler_body">It's late afternoon; the sun's been up all day, but Jack's been inside.  In fact, he's just stepping out onto the dusty unpaved streets of Gomorrah in time to see the sun on its downward path in the sky.  What's he been up to all day, anyway?  Is this even his house?<br/><br/>The first thing he catches sight of out there is Jeanette, one of Cringe's crew.  She's got an old ball cap on; it's black with an angular, grey face on the front with big black eyes.  She carries a baseball bat wherever she goes, too, but it's scratched to all hell, and the popular theory is that it's got names etched into it, but who knows for sure, most people never get a real good look at it until she was hittin' 'em with it, and by then, they weren't often trying to read those scratches.  Anyway, the bat she's got slung over her shoulder, and it's a little bloody, leaving little drops that plop into the dust below and turn into little red stains.  She shoots Jack a glance as she passes, and smiles.  She's missing a few teeth, and the rest aren't in great shape.<br/><br/>Fortunately, Jack doesn't have to linger on those teeth for too long; in short order, he's got a couple of big guys eyeballing him, coming right at him.  Member's of Esther's crew, both of 'em: Barker and Mimi.  At least they're not being aggressive; Barker and Mimi, when they want to, they can cause some damage, but right now they're pretty casual.  Barker says, "Hey, you're Jack, right?"<br/><br/>"Of course he's Jack, you think it's someone else?"<br/><br/>"Hey Jack, you gotta come with us."<br/><br/><strong>Jack</strong>, what do you do?</div></div><br/><strong>HAVEL</strong><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide</div><div class="spoiler_body">It's late afternoon.  Havel's gang's dispersed, mostly, into Gomorrah; a few of 'em keep guard of the bikes, always, but a lot of 'em have started to establish at least some temporary interests here, so while they've got time, that's what they're off doing.  It's always a bustle when they show up; Havel's gang just about matches Esther's in size, and she's always wary about keeping that many hardasses around the hold, especially hardasses who answer to <em>somebody else</em>.  There's always that certain wariness whenever he passes by one of her people, like they're sizing him up.<br/><br/>Now, Havel's out at the little corral, where about a half dozen of his guys are hanging out keeping an eye on the bikes but mostly shooting the shit and playing dice, and one of 'em is here, trying to make right an ugly situation.<br/><br/>"I'm pretty sure he's dead," Kettle's saying.  "I mean, I hope to hell he's not, but Gnarly put that guy through a fucking wringer back there.  Captain, I wouldn't say it wasn't instigated, and probably it's understandable how worked up he got, but that guy was one of Esther's people, not like he got into a fight with some urchin back there, and I'm pretty sure that guy is done for.  I don't even know where the fuck Gnarly is now, either, I wanted to get out of there before the boss lady showed up and man, I lost Gnarly on the way."<br/><br/><strong>Havel</strong>, what do you do?</div></div><br/><strong>WHEELS</strong><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide</div><div class="spoiler_body">It's mid-late afternoon, and Wheels is idling in what might be called a saloon near the center of town, close enough to hear people dropping their buckets down and pulling 'em back up.  Here they've got a pretty good cook, who hangs out in back and makes a pretty decent meal from ground prairie rat and beetle-flake sauce, and for people who are looking to lose a night or two, they even keep a pretty wicked cider on tap fermented from the massive, twisted fruits that grow on the trees that the beetles like so much.<br/><br/>While Wheels was enjoying herself, a fight broke out -- it started, it escalated, and it ended in just moments, from quiet bickering to sudden shouting and then there was a gunshot, and someone was laid out on the floor of the saloon, bleeding into the dusty floor.  Hard to tell where it started, or even why, and by the time there was shouting, it was mostly just all curses and insults.<br/><br/>A few people had moved back when the fight had started, and a couple of them split when the gun went off.  A lot of people stuck around for the spectacle.<br/><br/><strong>Wheels</strong>, what'd you do?  What're you doing now?</div></div>