"The Lesser of Two Evils" (A SOA Role Play)

IMPORTANT NOTE​

The Fourth of July
TriCorners, Oregon:

TriCorners wasn't a big town: if you counted all of the men, women, and children who lived in all of the homes within the school district, that number would barely reach 1,100. The town was so isolated from the rest of America that if they didn't put on their own Independence Day celebration they might not even realize it was the country's birthday. The town sat in a narrow valley in the rolling, arid hills of the state's southeast, 40 miles from where the borders of Oregon, California, and Nevada met. The next largest town, Lakeview -- Lake County's seat of government -- was over 100 miles away.

On a typical Fourth of July, the activities would start just after sunup with the Pork'n'Pancake breakfast down at the volunteer fire department. At 11am, the parade would leave the Primary School located at the east end of town, roll down Main Street, and conclude at the High School at the west end of town. From 1 to 3, kids and adults alike would participate in the Patriot Games in City Park, winning gift certificates and ribbons in such things as the three legged race and the greased pig chase.

The rest of the day was less structured. Town- and country-folk alike would catch the wide variety of music acts in Gazebo Park; would visit the two or three dozen booths that encircled Memorial Square to buy craft items, get faces painted, or slurp down a quickly melting snow cone; or would get the best barbeque and tater salad the state had to offer at the Chicken Roast that had already begun sending up a plume of smoke down at the Fire Department even before the breakfast had concluded.

And, of course, the evening would end with a fireworks display over the high school's football field. Compared to many displays across the country or even across the rest of the state, this one wasn't very spectacular. The town's fireworks budget was relatively tiny, and of course there was the threat of wildfire in the fields surrounding the town. In fact in some years, the personal fireworks displays taking place in the back yards and on the streets rivaled the city display in marvel.

And while every Fourth of July would offer some bit of excitement for every citizen of TriCorners, this year that excitement would come from a source none would have expected.

Shortly after the parade had ended its westerly trek, another parade came into sight and sound and began its own easterly trek down Main. The rumble of powerful, unmuffled engines caused all eyes in all directions to turn. People who had been scattering from the parade route returned quickly to find 24 Harley Davidsons -- followed by a caravan of SUVs, box vans, and other passenger cars -- rolling slowly down Main Street.

The train of black leather, dark sunglasses, and unshaven faces continued past the gawking and rapidly increasing numbers. When the motorcade had nearly reached the west end of town, the rider who had been leading the pack suddenly revved his motor and shot away from the others. He stopped before the long abandoned "Alibi" bar and grill and backed his bike up to the crumbling curb before it. As he walked out into the parking lot, two dozen other bikers -- some with their Old Ladies' thighs wrapped around them -- encircled him and cut their motors.


The man in the middle turned slowly, looking to each of his friends and family members. As he did so, the bikers revved their engines, sending a thunder through the town that even after the fireworks of that evening would be remembered by the townsfolk as the most unforgettable sound of the day. With a casual cut it slashing gesture across his chest, the bikes all went silent, and the only sound to be heard was that of the curious crowd that again filled the sidewalks and intersections of Main Street.

The four wheeled vehicles of the caravan had continued onward past the circle of bikes to find parking on the Alibi's far side. Women, children, and a handful of men emerged and found themselves ogling the crowd that was ogling the bikers. It was a surreal moment for many assembled.

The man in the middle of the circle was Abel Teller.


As he continued to slowly turn, looking to each of the men and women encircling him, he instructed them with a serious tone, "Remember ... fresh start. We don't go looking for trouble ... and if trouble finds us ... we deal with it the right way ... brains before bullets."

By the time the bikes had gone silent, TriCorners' local law enforcement representative was already approaching the circle.


Lake County Sheriff's Deputy Henry Harmon could see the man in the middle of the circle talking but couldn't hear him. He slowed as he neared the circle of Harleys, not really wanting to enter it while at the same time wanting to speak to the bikers or, at the least, their representative.

When Abel spotted the Deputy, he made another gesture. The bikes fired up again and with movements that looked almost choreographed, they broke out of their circle and moved closer to the Alibi. One by one, the bikers backed their rides up to the curb as Abel had, killed their engines, and dismounted to stare back at the Deputy who had continued forward until he was standing before their leader.

"Happy Fourth," Abel said offering his hand. The Deputy took it -- slowly, though not with conspicuous reluctance -- and the biker added, "Abel Teller. President, SAMCRO."

When Harmon hesitated in responding, Abel began to explain what SAMCRO stood for, but the Deputy cut in, "Sons Of Anarchy Motorcycle Club, Redwood Original. Yeah ... I know who you were."

Abel cocked his head a bit, asking, "Were? Don't you mean are?"

"Were," Harmon repeated. He looked to the bikers -- still standing dutifully by their bikes as if cavalry men preparing to mount up for the long trek to Indian Country. He looked back to Abel. "The report we got was that you made a deal. ATF, FBI, San Joaquin Sheriffs ... Deal was that if you left ... what was it called, Charming...? That if you left, they would drop all of the one hundred plus charges they had on you."

"They couldn't prove any of it," Abel said, his tone friendly, not defensive. "There was no case."

"But you took the deal anyway," Harmon pointed out.

Abel studied the man for a moment, recalling the situation in which the Sons had found themselves back in Charming, California. For two generations, SAMCRO had been Charming's Robin Hoods, keeping drugs, prostitution, and other such crimes from taking a hold in the city. A significant element of their success had been their ties -- some secret, others not so much so -- to both the city police department and San Joaquin Sheriff's Department, which allowed them a bit of free rein in exchange for helping the departments battle the bad guys.

But, things change, and ultimately progress forced the hand of the Authorities. With both the State and the Sons facing years of court battles and hundreds of thousands of dollars in legal fees, a deal for exile was struck: the State would drop all pending charges against the Motorcycle Club so long as the MC either disbanded or left the state.

There was, of course, a vote at Chapel. Some of the Charter members chose to shed their cuts and become regular folk, continuing their lives in Charming without any further involvement in SAMCRO. Others patched with brother charters in other States, mostly in Nevada and Arizona but in Oregon and other states as well. But the majority of them -- assembled here in TriCorners today -- chose to stay together and leave the state as demanded of them.

"Yes, we took the deal," Abel confirmed.

"And you left California," Harmon continued, "And came to Oregon."

"Yes ... and yes."

"And ... you're continuing on to ... what, Idaho...? Montana?" It was obvious in Harmon's tone that he was hoping SAMCRO had no intention of remaining in his town. He smiled and said with a spirited tone, "Maybe Canada. I hear it's beautiful this time of year."

Abel chuckled, then -- moving slowly as not to alarm the law man -- reached under his leather vest and into the breast pocket of his shirt. He withdrew a folded, wrinkled piece of paper and handed it to the Deputy. Harmon opened the sheet and read while Abel's lips widened a bit more, waiting for the man's reaction.

"This is a deed," Harmon said, trying to hide his shock. He looked past Abel to the bar and grill in which the other bikers were standing. "To the Alibi."

"It's ours," Abel confirmed. "The bar and grill ... the two dozen cabins out back of it." He looked down to the severely cracked pavement below his feet. "Even the crumbling parking lot ... all ours."

"You're staying here," Harmon said, beginning to feel the heat in his face as his blood began to boil. "You're staying in TriCorners."

Abel nodded his acknowledgment as his lips spread in a wide smile. "Might even join the Chamber of Commerce."

"We don't have a Chamber of Commerce," Harmon growled low and soft.

"Maybe I'll start one," Abel said, reaching out and taking back the deed. As he continued, he walked backwards. "Can't wait for the fireworks, Deputy."

That comment could have been taken literally or figuratively, because Harmon knew there were going to be more fireworks than just those shooting over the town this evening.

"Yes ... can't wait," he murmured watching as Abel turned away and headed to and through the line of bikes.

"Whose got the key?" the Charter President called out, stepping up onto the old fashion wooden board walk that fronted the bar and grill. When no one answered, Abel lifted a leg before him and smashed the bottom of his riding boot against the door frame. The doors flew open with ease as he said with laughter, "Whaddaya know. I had it the whole time."

As Harmon watched, the bikers and their entourage began filing into what would ultimately become the Charter's new club house...


Comments about this role play:

• While this role play is inspired by the TV Series "Sons of Anarchy", it is a separate entity altogether. Except where indicated in the OOC (which is yet to come), the Series and this RP have nothing to do with one another.
• Because they are so readily available, images from the Series -- as well as images unconnected to SOA -- will be used here but to represent new original RP characters, not canon TV Series characters. For example, I use Charlie Hunnam's image for Abel Teller in this role play, despite the fact that he played Abel's father, Jax, in the Series. (Writers are welcome to use canon character images or images of their own, so long as they are photos and not anime or other non-photo depictions.)
• Time means nothing here. The presence of an adult Abel Teller would imply that this RP is set 20+ years after the Series. However, the RP actually exists in a pseudo-current time frame, meaning that it takes place now but we will not talk about the exact year as it has no meaning.
• The basic concept of the role play is that an MC -- Motorcycle Club -- comes into a small town wracked by crime and other social "evils" and replaces them with -- as the title would imply -- lesser evils. Where deadly drugs exist -- crack, for example -- the MC will intervene to lessen the effect. Does that mean getting rid of the drugs or controlling them or replacing them with something less harmful? We'll see. Where prostitution exists in horrid conditions, the MC will attempt to take control of the situation and make it less horrendous. Does that mean getting rid of prostitution or running it all themselves? We'll see. These are just a couple of examples. There are lots more.
• I'm sure I will add more comments here as time proceeds, but for now I just want to get the post up.

Comments about joining and participating:

• You MUST ask to join and, after presenting a suitable character, be accepted. While I can't stop an unaccepted writer from posting, your character will not be acknowledged.
• You do not have to be a Sons Of Anarchy fan to participate. Although the RP is inspired by the Series, it stands apart from it.
• You may write more than one character; you may write vital or less important characters; and you may write permanent and temporary characters.
• Concerning temporary characters:
  • If you want to write a character who dies off after just a few posts, days, weeks, etc., those opportunities exist. We are talking about violent people dealing with violent situations. I'm sure there will be deaths.
  • If you want to write a character who, for example, is only passing through and appears for a short period of time, those opportunities will exist as well.
  • I will be creating an OOC thread in which we can discuss such things.
• I saw a role play that once incorporated "spurs", threads that link to the IC. They allow writers to write in pairs apart from the IC, giving them a lot of freedom. I liked it. I'll need to learn more about spurs, so I won't explain more about them now.
• I'm sure I will add more comments here as time proceeds, but for now I just want to get the post up.

12345

IMPORTANT NOTE FOR THOSE INTERESTED

I will not be available between Oct 3-25, so this role play is on hold. (I thought my annual family hunting trip was cancelled when I started this thread, but a couple of days ago I found out it was still on schedule.)

Therefore:

• This thread is on hold.
• I will use what time I have over the next couple of days to prepare the OOC, providing interested writers with a little more information about the "greater" story.
• I will create and make available a character profile sheet.
• Interested writers can establish their characters.
• Those writers can also look for other writers with which to conduct their own little story lines within the greater story.
• And when I get back (or possibly before, if I can get any cell phone coverage), we will get started.

After a bit of a misunderstanding with another writer, I feel like I should make something clear for anyone who is interested in becoming part of this role play:

• I insist on writers asking to join the role play before posting to the IC. If you had a party at your house, you wouldn't want strangers just dropping in and changing the mood or form of entertainment, would you?
• However, I do not insist on controlling who and what your character is and/or what your character does once he or she is accepted to the story. So long as you are not "god moding" and/or throwing out "twists" that change the story for other writers, you are welcome to write what you want after being accepted to the role play.
• I only ask that your character and the story you wish to write fit with the overall story line. We all need to be writing in the same "universe", and it's hard to do that if we haven't at least talked before you begin posting.
• If you do not like the "universe" in which I am creating here and/or want to create a character and story line that doesn't fit within that universe, you are ALWAYS welcome to start your own role play. Steal my idea and pics and everything and take them the direction you want. Seriously! I'm not going to stop you. It doesn't mean diddly to me, really. In fact, if I like your idea better, I might even ask to join. And if you don't want me, so be it.
• We are here to have fun, all of us. So, to make sure that that happens, I only ask writers to PM with their character idea before joining, so that we can hash out a few of the more important details first.
• Thank you.