Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-25828117-20160716191324/@comment-25828117-20160720130631

The bell of the rang, signaling it's departure and the engines started to roar into action. Carefully the boat manouvered it's way out of the harbor and through the port gates that had bee made out of wood and iron plates. Guards watched from above as they entered the open seas.

The ferry set sail for Lady Leisure. An island with it's own thriving economy in prostitution and gambling.

The cat quickly dashed out of the factory and into the the old dilapidated parking lot where dry grass had grown from out the cracks in the asphalt. The Riflefield Factory was higher up on the mountain range that cradled what remained of Pearl Harbor and Honolulu and Lucy could see the sun set over Pearl City and the ruins below.

The cat meanwhile stood in the middle of the hairpin road that lead back down to Honolulu center. So far it appeared this ruin of the world that had come before was pretty much empty and already had been picked clean by scavengers decades maybe centuries ago.

Randall and Martha, were placed on what seemed like a rotisserie but it didn't look like they were going to be cooked alive by cannibal bushmen though, since there was no fire underneath them, not yet anyways.

As they were set in place the man with the flamingo on his head urged the other tribals to be silent and approached the net, speaking a language none of the captured could understand. While he tiraded in his native tongue he looked at Randall and Martha after which he pointed at the idol upon the pedestal. Causing all the tribals to say the exact same word in unison. Maybe it was the name of their god.