Session #1: Riders on the Storm

The raindrops fell from the sky like millions of bullets, each one landing heavily on the barren landscape below. Once a rift opened between one of the storm clouds, a quaint, out of the way diner could be seen on the side of a thin, narrow road which seemed to stretch for miles and miles. The landscape was brown and muddy, but not an ounce of vegetation was to be seen anywhere.
Inside the diner was a lingering smoke, which strayed in strips around the counter. Sitting on a stool, staring blankly up at the ceiling with wide eyes was a young, thin man, who had a lanky build, and poofy, dark green hair. He wore a blue jacket with a large fold on the left, exposing a pale yellow shirt underneath. The collar of the shirt was visible, and a plain black tie was loosely tied beneath it. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and he wore a matching pair of blue pants. His shoes appeared to be blue as well, although they were caked with mud. His face appeared youthful at first glance, but a deeper gaze into this man's eyes would reveal everything he wanted to leave behind; his past, and so much more.
With a brief look behind him, the man put out the cigarette which was tipping slightly below his lip. He folded his arms on the table, and called for the bartender, who had just finished serving another customer.
"Hey, get me a hamburger." He said. His voice was slightly light in tone, but it had more of a mysterious and sarcastic ring to it more than anything else.
"Sorry sir, we just ran out of our beef patties. Food isn't too easy to come by these days around here." The bartender responded.
With a sigh, the man stared down at the ground at his shoes. A bell rang from behind his head, which indicated a new customer had entered this unusual abode.
She had long blue hair which went down to her shoulders. Her eyes were a brilliant green that glimmered in the dim lights. She didn't look a day over 20 years old, and she wore a musky brown trench coat, although it was either too big for her, or she liked to wear it in a small size. Underneath the trench coat was a white, silk dress which flowed in the same direction as the coat when she walked. She shivered and gripped the coat closer to her body. After a few steps she locked eyes with the green haired man, and like a magnet, she immediately walked towards him and took a seat at a nearby stool. She paid no attention to anyone else.
The green haired man jerked his head further away from where she was once he noticed how she was staring at him; her beautiful, emerald eyes gazed at him with a burning light inside. He didn't know what to say or how to respond, so he decided to look the other direction and take no further notice of her.
As he turned around she gripped his shoulder, and spun him back towards her. He made a sly expression on his face, and it cracked into a small smile. A hint of uneasiness came over him.
"Excuse me, sir." The girl said in a low hush of a voice. When she spoke it was like a gentle rain falling, in fact, it was so sweet it was nearly addictive.
"Huh?" The man said in a grunt. After looking her up and down, he couldn't tell what a beautiful woman like her would want with a guy like him, even if it was as simple as a question of directions from one place to another. Then again, as he raised his head to stare at the others in the diner, he realized that mostly everyone seemed like an unclean, dirty bunch of drifters.
"Excuse me," The woman repeated in her sweet voice. ", but I need some assistance. My boyfriend sent me to find an old friend of his, and the description he gave me sounds exactly like you look." She paused and gazed at him, as if going over her boyfriend's directions in her head as she looked.
"Really? Well…I can't say I know anyone too well in this area of the planet. I've been in the big city a few times before, though." He spread a grin on his face as if to reassure her, but to tell the truth he was trying hard not to look deceitful to her.
"Umm…" She looked solemnly down at the ground, and her figure finally went live again as she jerked back up. "Spike Spiegel ! That's the man's name I'm trying to find. Are you sure you aren't him?"
The man shifted on his seat. Yeah, that was him alright. If you had seen him once, you could have enough memory of his features to pick him out of a crowd. He glanced sideways, feeling dumbfounded at the knowledge her boyfriend had. Now things were getting suspicious: Spike's travels had only brought him to Mars a few times before, but not enough to make a friend, or at least someone who memorized his name and attire, at least not this far away from civilization.
"What does your boyfriend want with me?" He asked accusingly as he pulled out another cigarette from his jacket pocket. She only looked back at him, a pleading sense in her eyes. She shifted her eyes in shame and nearly closed them; for it was clear she had no intent on telling him.
"Look, it has nothing to do with crime or anything. He just wants to meet you, that's all. Says he's heard you were on this planet." The tone in her voice was innocent.
Spike placed his hand below his chin and pondered a minute. The lady shifted anxiously at her seat, and was about to get up when Spike's eyes suddenly glinted with light.
"Hey, what's your name anyway? I might place a face on your boyfriend if I knew what his last name was, as well."
The woman stopped her anxious movements to leave, and sat firmly back onto the seat. "My name is Andrea, and my boyfriend's name is Clint. Clint Barewood."
A sudden dumbfound-ness struck Spike again as he tried to remember the name, but he knew he'd never heard it before. Finally realizing Andrea's anxious movements on the stool, his eyes narrowed curiously.
"Whatever this girl wants, it sure doesn't seem friendly. A guy like that wouldn't just send his innocent girlfriend out into the outskirts of nowhere to just invite him to a little chat." His eyes moved up towards her face, and when their eyes met, she gave a little smile. "But whatever this is about, she's oblivious to it." Having made up his mind, he sat up from his stool and slid a 5 woolong bill on the counter. Andrea stood up at the same time, and they walked out the door, although Spike slouched at a slower pace than the striding Andrea. They walked out the door and suddenly the condensed smoke that was trapped inside the bar cleared away as they drew their eyes upon the landscape.
After a few moments, Andrea looked at Spike once again. "Clint is going to pick us up here. He won't be too long." She motioned towards a speed limit sign a few paces away from the dingy diner. There they sat comfortably until a shrill shadow came over the landscape on their left.
Coming up the dusty, narrow road was a hover car, it's exhaust pipes causing dirt to billow out behind it. Spike arched his head over the sign to spot it.
"I take it that's our ride?" He asked.
"Yes." Andrea responded. Spike noticed her anxiousness had swept off of her; her eyes appeared paler, and some of the color had washed off her skin.
As he noticed the change in her features, the car slowed to a halt near the entrance of the diner. The two got up and walked towards it.
As they neared it, Spike noticed how secondhand it looked. Dents and scrapes were common over it's hood and along it's sides. Most of the dark red paint was peeled off it's engine cover, and the majority of it was only clear to see in the sunlight. Most of the numerous raindrops from the sky splattered all over it as they hit it at full force.
Andrea looked pleased as the door on the right side opened up, revealing a tall, dark haired man with large muscles beneath his tight red jacket. He wore leather pants and stained, brown gloves, but his shoes were clear white, almost like a pearl in a sea of orange dust which was the surrounding terrain.
Digging his hands deeper into his pockets, Spike quietly asked, "You must be Clint, right?" What remained of his cigarette was burning out between his lips with each small gust of wind that carried itself over the terrain while more rain fell all around the three of them.
The man hopped out of his seat and stepped out of the path of the door to his hovercar. "Why yes, I am." Clint answered boldly. His body mass was now fully noticeable on his arms and legs, as well as his chest.
Andrea smiled seductively to Clint, and Clint politely smiled back. He then drew his attention back to Spike.
"Spike Spiegel, what a pleasure it is to see your face again." Clint passed his hand through his hair after he spoke, and gave a dramatic pause.
"Do I…know you?" Spike responded. He pulled his hands out of his pockets and gave a more serious appeal.
Clint walked from side to side, and circled around him, eyeing him up and down. Andrea just stood at direct attention, hoping Clint would give her more attention shortly.
Spike drew back and stood still, watching Clint's every movement with his eyes, until Clint stopped suddenly behind him. Spike's eyes moved to their corners and narrowed.
"Spike Spiegel, this isn't the place to have a conversation. Why don't we take a drive to somewhere more suitable?" Clint gave an apprehensive gaze at Spike, and then at Andrea as she dared to move toward the car. She stopped once she felt his gaze upon her.
"Do I have a choice?" Spike asked aloud. Clint gave a cruel smirk, and walked back towards the car. Spike took the passenger seat next to him, and Andrea slowly opened the door to sit in the small backseat.
The hovercar took off at a sound pace down the road from whence it came, eventually becoming a blocky speck in the distance.

Farther down the road, small groups of weeds stood clumped together on either side of the gradually-broader road. Andrea sat silent and stared out her cracked window in the backseat, trying to become as least of a nuisance to the two men in the front as possible.
Spike looked out the window occasionally, but always drew his head back towards the road ahead once he got the feeling one of the other passengers in the car was peering at him.
Clint had a strange glare on his face from the dawning sun, but it soon disappeared as the car pulled over on the side of the road. It had been nearly an hour, most of the fierce rainstorm had ceased, and a few unmistakable signs of civilization were beginning to touch the landscape all around. The road now drew out to a land-bridge over a steep ravine, and it stretched for many miles in the foggy haze. The car stopped near a guard-rail away from the road near the start of the ravine. A few tall, dead trees loomed before them.
Clint got out of the car, and Spike and Andrea followed suit. They each walked past the guardrail and looked down into the ravine. It was only a little clear from where they stood: numerous jagged rocks lay on the side of the ravine they looked down at. The other side must have been nearly a mile away, straight ahead. Down below they heard the faint sound of water running, like a subterranean stream might have run through the broken, scattered stones far below.
Spike looked down with wide eyes, and looked back at Clint. He was pulling something out of his trunk, and after he pulled out a small briefcase he slammed the trunk shut.
Andrea walked towards Spike to get a look at the ravine below, but Clint gave her a menacing glare and she stood still, facing him. A gentle breeze made her dress and coat swirl about her, and Spike's pants flapped against his legs for a moment.
Spike glanced curiously at Clint, who was drawing near him. His walk slowly became a stride, and he soon ran up to him and attempted to swing a punch right at his face.
Spike narrowly dodged the punch and slipped up behind him, giving him a large punch to his chest. Clint staggered back, and stood up resiliently towards him.
After a thin laugh, Clint walked back up to him. "Not a bad punch, Spike Spiegel. Nice counterattack to my blow. Not many would've missed it."
Andrea gasped and placed her hands over her mouth as Clint gave a sudden thrust into Spike's chest, causing him to lean over in pain. He collapsed to the ground and felt a small trickle of blood escape his mouth; he had never fought someone this powerful before.
He staggered to get up, but Clint punched him hard again across his face, causing a thin stream of blood fly from his mouth as he collapsed a few paces away. His chest burned, but his heart was pulsing with a fierce rage.
Andrea tried to hide her eyes from the fight, and she shook each time she heard a punch land on one of the men. After a few swift blows, a tear fell from her eye to the cold, hard ground.
Spike's face was bleeding, and he could already feel his left cheek begin to bruise. Most of the bloodstains on the cracked, dusty terrain were drying up quickly. He avoided as many throws as he could from Clint, but because of Clint's sheer size compared to Spike, it wasn't an easy task.
Suddenly, Clint's arm reached out and grasped Spike's neck. Spike could feel his last breath escaping him as Clint's fingers dug into his neck.
Clint walked several paces and halted over the ravine, still holding Spike outwards, facing himself. A mischievous grin grew on his face, and he commanded Andrea to bring him the briefcase which lay a few feet away from the car.
Andrea's eyes widened as she opened them at the landscape. Another tear and a brief gasp escaped her as she saw what Clint was doing to Spike. She tried to remain where she was, now realizing she had slumped to the ground, unable to contain herself. Her feet moved toward the briefcase, but in full honesty she didn't want to move at all. Emotionless, like a mistreated puppet, Andrea grabbed the briefcase handle and slowly walked towards Clint.
Clint looked backwards and smiled widely as he saw Andrea following his orders. Once she handed him the briefcase, he pushed her out of the way, causing her to stumble and fall backwards. A thin line of blood was traced on her hand as she landed on a sharp stone. Her eyes filled with tears, and she tried hard to remain obedient and unflinching.
Paying no attention whatsoever to Andrea, Clint loosened his grip on Spike's neck a little. Spike gasped for the air he so preciously needed, but began to feel the blood move back to his legs and throughout his body.
Clint glared at him and looked him right in the eye. With one hand he popped open the briefcase, and pulled out its contents: a small handgun and a folder of papers. He threw the briefcase on the ground once he pocketed the handgun and grasped the folder.
Spike looked at the folder he was holding, but suddenly felt the grip grew harder around his neck again, and struggled for air. His legs began to go numb again, and his hands gripped Clint's wrists tightly in an attempt to get free.
Clint opened the folder and pulled out the first paper in it, which had a profile of Spike on it, as well as a mug shot. He thrust it towards Spike so he could see, and his eyes widened.
"This is your profile I stole out of the ISSP's databanks. It doesn't show you're a criminal, but I didn't need to see that information to know how much of a scoundrel and betrayer you were." Clint's eyes flashed in rage as he narrowed them. The sun turned a pale red behind the landscape on the left of them.
Andrea sat up alarmed, and shivered as she saw the folder Clint was holding. She knew what was in it, and knew that he had finalized to complete his plan.
"W-w..what??" Spike asked in a hush, still trying to struggle free of Clint's grasp. Clint ignored his struggle and continued.
"It didn't take long for Andrea to find this, and as soon as I matched the face on the mug shot with the one I had seen long ago, it all made sense. You didn't die, after all. You decided to become a cowboy, a bounty hunter, and a real shitty one at that." He took a defensive stance and went on, "You gave up your life from the syndicate to become a friggin bounty hunter! And you lied about your death! Well, now you won't be able to hide yourself from the syndicate anymore, Spike Spiegel…" Clint's tone grew to a menacing growl. "You're the only one I've ever seen on the databases of the ISSP that I've wanted to kill, especially after I heard about how well your bounty hunting streak was going…you make me sick, Spike Spiegel. Ever since I met Andrea, she agreed to help me hack into the databases to free my old comrades, or at least track them down. I may have been relieved of duty from the syndicate, but I still have the decency to find the others who had been recorded by those damn ISSP bastards…"
As Clint spoke, Andrea began silently crying. Her stifled breaths finally alerted Clint, and he paused and put Spike back down on the ground to stare at Andrea.
"…However, where Andrea comes in handy for computer-smarts, she lacks in knowing who is the master." He paced over to her, stood her up on her feet, and slapped her hard with the back of his hand. She spun around and hit the ground, crying.
"Bitch! You better not cry! Especially not for a slob like this…" As he tilted his head to take a backwards glance of Spike, he felt a hard punch in his chest, and the next thing he saw was a long leg reaching out to kick his face, and much to his dismay, it succeeded. He flew backwards, and once his vision returned, he saw Spike's bruised and battered face punching him hard in the gut. Finally, Spike lifted him back to his knees, and gave a steady kick to his head. The blood flew from Clint's mouth as he landed on the ground with a loud THUD, suddenly unable to do anything but quiver.
Spike dusted himself off, and looked over at Andrea. He walked towards her calmly and offered her his hand to help her up. She got up uneasily, and held onto Spike tight, unable to contain her tears any longer. She cried loudly, and Spike tried to hush her politetly. He walked over to Clint's nervous body and slipped his handgun out of his pocket.
"Nobody I dislike calls me by my full name." He said darkly. He handed the gun to Andrea, allowing it to slip out of his fingers. She smiled graciously and looked up at him, and Spike returned the look. He smiled briefly, and said to her, "You can't allow someone to walk all over you like that, no matter how much you may love them. Hopefully this teaches you something." He gave a confident smile, and allowed her to stand on her own.
Hands in his pockets, hunched over, Spike began to follow the road back towards the diner. Andrea waved goodbye to him, and she felt a sudden warmness slip back into her heart, one she hadn't felt in many a year. She limped over to the car and turned its engine on, hunching down to the driver's seat.
Spike rubbed his sore face as he walked further in the distance, the last streams of light from the setting sun casting his silhouette across the road. "Man, I hope this won't hurt for very long. Those were some pretty mad punches, though. He was nearly unstoppable." He looked back up at the sky and paused for a moment, but much to his surprise, as he looked behind himself briefly, he saw a figure leaning over the body of another figure. As he glanced back towards the path ahead of him, he heard a gunshot.