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GM Dec 1st, Under a midday sun of surprising warmth and fury... The dusty town of Meddy, Arizona... Was indeed dusty and warm. It was in the low twenties, and the Saguaro of the Sonoran desert bathed in a clear light. Why anyone had tried to set up a settlement here was almost beyond comprehension, but the little town of Meddy, almost deserted, was still some how alive (if on life support). It seemed to live off old native Indians selling trinkets, biker gangs, and its central building "Wildheart", which could not quite decide if it was a gambling den or a strip joint, and had lurched around trying to be both. But the gun runner Flare was not at Wildheart. She was on a dusty road to the north of Meddy, a few miles out, in an open topped car. She had largely recovered from the beating she had received from Spitfire and Bird of Arms A month ago, although still had a plaster across her nose. Despite her red hair, she was deeply tanned, wearing mirrored black glasses, a black crop top (which was extremely conservative when it came to amount of textile, and extremely unconservative when it came to skin shown), and black jeans, barefoot, and listening to some strange jazz-metal fusion on loudspeaker. And despite the beating (and to her vexation), she was here to help Spitfire and Bird of Arms catch the Happy man. Her partner, Snowbird, had agreed to do so. Flare was not sure that was a good thing to do, but on the other hand, she was tight with Snowbird, and wouldn't let her partner down. She just didn't like it. She checked her watch again... How long do I have to wait for those idiots? she sighed to herself.