<strong>AMBROSEA</strong><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide</div><div class="spoiler_body"> Millions kind of shrugs under Ambrosea's arm.  Maybe she's not stone sober, maybe she's still seeing colors like the way people who haven't seen the world through Ambrosea's wonder-drug see 'em in the sky after rain or on the black roads where an auto's bled out its black blood and left a prismatic stain behind.  Maybe she is sober, though, maybe she just doesn't care what anyone else thinks, maybe it's just too fucking hot to get dressed.<br/><br/>She says, "La la, if you say so," a little bit pouty, but it's not long before she slips out from under Ambrosea's arm and wanders off, taking careful barefoot steps out in Gomorrah, watching careful for any unpleasantness she might set foot on.  Probably heading back to her own rented shack, but she definitely doesn't show any sign of being concerned about a jealous hardholder.  She's got a nice swagger to her gait; she draws eyes, for sure.<br/><br/>Back out in Gomorrah, there's a lot of place to be, but the exciting places are closer to the well, so that's where Ambrosea finds herself: moving closer to the well.  Balls' place keeps pretty busy, too, though as Ambrosea comes on it, she sees that there's maybe the wrong kind of excitement happening out there.  There's a woman out front, she's wearing these pants that cut off short just around her shins and she's got suspenders on, but they're hanging down by her pants instead of holding 'em up.  And she's got a pistol, she's got it out, pointing it pretty indiscriminately.<br/><br/>Ambrosea hears, "I don't give a fuck what Cringe has to say," and is that Balls out there with her?  Must be.  "You let one of ours get fucking wasted out here, girl, you better be fuckin' <em>thankful</em> Esther sends me and doesn't fucking crater you, dig?"  She emphasizes herself by swinging that pistol around, really making a scene.<br/><br/>"Who the fuck was it?"  A pause.  "Awh, fuck, they got <em>Apricot</em>?  The fuck'd he ever do to anybody?  Just a fuckin' kid, man."  She kind of paces in a circle.<br/><br/>Someone else is dragging something -- someone -- out of the door to Balls' place.  <br/><br/>Somewhere, there're gunshots, three of 'em quick.  <em>Bang bang bang.</em> Further off, bike howling like a pack of wild dogs, and getting closer.  <br/><br/><strong>Ambrosea</strong>, what you're telling me is, you got all these followers hyped up on drugs, but you never bothered to give 'em any commandments or rituals or rites or anything, they haven't made up any on their own?  They just bullshit their way through?  I mean, if that's what you're into, I just figured if I were a living deity I'd be stricter is all.  You know any of these people, by the way?  That's Look out there with the gun, not sure who the guy comin' out the door with a corpse in tow is.  What do you do?</div></div><br/><strong>HAVEL and RUTH</strong><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide</div><div class="spoiler_body">Brandy and Whiskey, Havel and Ruth, all ready to go; behind them, a fire's starting getting going, crackling leather and all.  They're moving just as the distinct pork smell of searing human starts to reach, Gnarly out there stomaching it as best he can until he knows for sure the fire's not gonna stop.  That's gotta beat being left out in the sun to cook, the way these cultists got it coming -- but then, isn't that how they honor their dead, like the half-rotten, half-mummified corpse those guys were carrying out into the desert?  That's pretty fuckin' ugly.  Out here around Gomorrah, bodies don't just shrivel up, they fester and get picked apart by rats and ants and locusts until there's nothing left.  Driving from the laager to Gomorrah's gonna be an unpleasant trip for a while.<br/><br/>So Gnarly, he's the last one onto his bike, but it's not too long before he's out there beside Kettle making his way back to lock things down.<br/><br/>The bikers don't usually get the warmest welcome when they come into town.  They're usually armed, that scares people, they got these bikes that make noise like you wouldn't believe and that just pisses people off.  So the group's met with these looks that Havel's probably used to, wary disapproval more than anything, maybe a little bit of surprise at seeing Ruth, reliable town doctor, clinging to the pock-marked, mat-haired Brandy.<br/><br/>She smells like like her namesake, by the way, Ruth, but not quality stuff, cheap brandy.  So does Whiskey, for that matter, but Havel's probably more used to that.<br/><br/>There's no big sign that just announces, like, <em>here be Ambrosea.</em>  Her influence spreads wherever she goes, her little cult working people up to that first hit that hooks 'em.  But those cultists ain't her, and for the most part.  So who fuckin' knows.  As they cruise deeper into the heart of Gomorrah -- after all, that's where the action is, the well's the heart of the state -- gunshots can be heard somewhere, hard to be sure where, just a trio of 'em, <em>bang bang bang.</em><br/><br/>Then, all that comfortable cruising goes south: there's some naked woman coming their direction, just strolling down the open street between makeshift shacks like nothing out of the ordinary, looking up the sky now and then, mostly just smiling like it's the finest day there's ever been.  Maybe that was what was distracting the bikers up front, enough that they weren't ready for it when three people suddenly erupted out from one of the little ragtag buildings at their sides, chasing straight out into the street in front of them, like they're terrified of something behind 'em, terrified enough that they're safer running right out in front of a bunch of bikes.  <br/><br/>Maybe One-Eye's distracted because he's only got one fucking eye, but whatever the reason, yeah, he doesn't brake until it's too late, so his bike smashes into one of these guys running out from that house and starts to skid, going down with his bike.  That starts a mess in the rest of the group as people start pulling off to the side, hitting their brakes, whatever it takes not to hit One-Eye and his bike and these people, and yeah, Ruth and Havel are on the least balanced bikes in the pack, riding double as they are.<br/><br/>There's some yelling, yeah.  Some of it sounds like, "Get back, get back!" and some of it's like, "Oh, shit!" and, well, most of it's mostly people shouting because they just got whacked by a bike or because bikes are falling over or because of whatever it is that just happened to draw their attention here.<br/><br/><strong>Havel, Ruth</strong>, either of you recognize the naked chick?  She's Millions, one of Ambrosea's hangers-on, but she's pretty new to the cult so honestly I wouldn't be too surprised if you haven't met, what with your shaky relations with the hocus.  Anyway, things are getting exciting here, and exciting means, <em>life sucks for you guys today, huh?</em>, so what do you do?  Try to do it before Whiskey and Brandy hit something, by the way, because these streets aren't very wide small and they don't practice a lot of safe driving behaviors.</div></div>