by A | Feb 21, 2015 | Recursions
MOTOLOT It is a time of ruin, gasoline & chaos. The dim future (or is it the present?) of Earth that never was, a hopeless age, a dark age… in a post apocalyptic landscape of humanity picking up the pieces after the Bigger Bang (or some greasers say “the Great Oops”), the horrendous apocalypse that almost wiped Man off the face of the Earth, it’s a time of warring cycle gangs & opposing petty warlords of the wastes of what remains, chieftains roaming the desolate countryside, questing for precious gasoline & the remnants of the ancients oil-wells & platforms & lost tech to have the upper hand in survival, scavenging power & high octanage — a dog eat dog world. Whomever brings unifies the gangs of the Wasteland, as every greaser likes to affectionately call it, will rise as Big Boss of the Land & will heal it, ushering a new era of “peace & prosperity”, or so the prophecy from the time of the Great Teevee foretold. In comes Art’s Cycle Knights; led by a charismatic leader, Art Drake, AKA King Drake, unifying the disparate gang bosses & the civie motor caravans; he’s got this crazee dream of looking for a new arcology of shiny chrome up on the hill, to build & settle. In a dream he’s called it Motolot, “Tha Place To Be” in Oldspeek. Right now, however, they’ll have to settle with a monstrous contraption made by the sheer crazee audacity & ingenuity of the infamous mutant, Merl the Mech, full of polished lines of steel rivets, belching toxic fumes as...
