Trucking hell (GMSG/Cowboy from Hell)

[Guilmon and a shotgun]

This is a private roleplay for myself and Cowboy. Any other posters will be shot on sight.

Plot:
The Great South Circus is one of the most popular travelling shows of the states, with almost over 100 different performances at over 300 venues in America. But what people often overlook is the truckers, the silent guardians that transport their good hundreds of miles to show after show. We don't get paid much and sleeping in a cab is an aquired comfort, but to be able to sit with all the performers and other supporting crewmen around a log fire, drinking and talking merrily is worth more then a few benjamins.

We'll be transporting a number of cargos and can talk to each over via radio transmitters.

Character Sheet:

Name:
Age:
Gender:
Description:
Rig:
Notes:

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Name: RMAK
Age: 20s-30s
Gender: Female
Description: Road-rage enfused with fur. She's a wild kicking renamon that takes trucking by the balls (sometimes quite literally) and enjoys giving young children dirty looks. She has an Eastern European accent, but has grown used to the black looks that some anti-communist southeners give her, retorting that "If they could see their toes they'd probably call them communist too"
Rig: http://images01.olx.com/ui/2/96/58/f_23678858_1.jpeg
Peterbilt 379 w/ metallic black coating and dark green metallic flames licking around the cab
Notes: She carries a shotgun in her cab, for 'emergancies'

[Bee]

Name: Brandon "Cowboy" Hayley
Age: 25
Gender: Male
Description: Foul-mouthed, Foul-attitude Tigerwolf from The Deepest South. Speaks with a slight southern accent, IF you can find it in his steel-grater voice from years of not taking care of himself. Lives by his personal mantra of "some people are only still alive because it's illegal to kill them", He often skirts the line of the law, but will never willingly cross it. Despite his appearance, he DOES have some morals.....somewhere.
Rig: "Iron Maiden", a Kenworth W900L triple axle, 1,475,996 miles on the odometer, with a Catepillar C-16 Turbo diesel, pushing close to 800 horsepower and close to 3,000 lb. ft. of torque. Yes, it's far from stock

http://www.truckpaper.com/images/Truck/f...683594.jpg
Notes: carries a Match-Grade M-14 SOCOM Assault Rifle in his truck, with a civilian-legal silencer and M203 Grenade Launcher. No one's had the guts to ask him if he has any grenades for it yet.

[Guilmon and a shotgun]

The Texas sun beat down heavily on the busy site of the Great South Circus, the big top bathing in the sunshine as sweat-laiden workers were packing away it's equipment for transportation to the next show.

RMAK sauntered through the crowds of denim pants and cotton shirts, her golden fur gleaming in the sunlight. A group of resting, obnoxious wolves gave her a traditional slackjaw whistle and remark to which she responded with a deadly glare and snarl.
She waded through the straddlers of the crowd towards her Rig, it's metallic paintjob and flames singling it apart from the other semi-trucks parked next to it's magnificantly menacing body. Several workers were lifting the equipment into her trailer, so she had nothing to do except relax. She climbed onto the hot hood of the rig and settled down to sleep, her hat covering her face from the sunlight.

[Bee]

The distinct sound of glass shattering pierced the landscape, along with laughter and what sounded like a silenced Rifle barking. Cowboy was out by the Clown's trailers, doing what he always did after a show; Shooting the old seltzer bottles with the clowns and the acrobats. They always told the Ringleader that the bottle got busted in transit, as the Ringleader was always too busy counting his profits after a show to notice the big grey Tigerwolf and his sleek black M-14 slinking off to have fun with the clowns.

"fifty yards, open sights," Cowboy grinned, and pulled the trigger, causing another bottle to shatter and spray it's contents everywhere, "Oh shit! fifty points!"

[Guilmon and a shotgun]

Rena opened one eye, evidently annoyed by the shooting going on. Sliding off the hood she strolled over to where the hulk of fur and muscle was shooting. Clowns and Actrobats eyed her lustfully, causing her to slightly bear her brilliant white fanged canines; they darted off quickly.

"That all you got big man?" she smirked, watching him from behind. "I would've thought a circus dog like you would be jumping through flaming hoops blindfold"

[Bee]

Cowboy snorted, blowing gunsmoke away from the tip of the silencer. "Fuck no. I ain't no Circus Dog. I just haul the Circus Dogs shit and drink on the Ringmaster's tab. Who the fuck are you?"

[Guilmon and a shotgun]

"A bitch hauling shit. Now are you gonna hand over the rifle and watch a professional, or am i gonna have to take it from you?" she smiled menacingly.

"I heard shes good man, she can shoot more then 50 yards without looking" came a murmur from the crowd.

[Bee]

Cowboy smirked at the challenge, as he raised his rifle up, not even looking at the targets. Using only his peripheral vision, he started firing the rifle as fast as he could pull the trigger, the bullets finding their marks and making the last five seltzer bottles shatter.

"Oh, would you look at that. All the bottles got shattered." He grinned at Rena, in his own little way of saying she should go fuck herself.

[Guilmon and a shotgun]

"Right, lets get this stuff moving people" bellowed the fat Ringleader through a megaphone. "We're to be in San Diego in 3 days so move it!"

The fox said nothing, picking up a small rock and throwing it 70 yards at the ringleader, hitting his hat off. Smirking as he looked around wildly, she flicked Brandon's left ear and began walking off.
"See you on the open road" she called back, trying her best to hide her smile.

[Bee]

Cowboy grinned slightly, and slung his rifle over his shoulder and headed back to The Iron Maiden, his old Kenworth. The Roadies had loaded up the flatbed with god knows what, he could care less. He wasn't paid to care, he was paid to drive.

"Nice ass....nice accent, rancid attitude....I think I might like her." He chuckled to himself, warming the glowplugs on his Diesel and fired it up.