Molly's - Introduction [Tankiverse Fanfic]

[Hippin_in_Hawaii 639]

Molly’s - Introduction

Fanfic in the Tankiverse by Hippin_in_Hawaii

 
 
As far back as my memory goes, I’ve loved tanks. I remember, or at least I think I remember, sitting on the couch between my parents when the Tanki finals were on back in ‘53. I would have been four years old. I guess it’s a suspect memory because I remember the teams wrong. If you look it up, look up the teams that made the finals that year, the names don’t match the pictures in my head. All the teams I remember had already been eliminated. But, I remember the tanks correctly. Anyway, I remember sitting there, the family all gathered around one screen, yelling and cheering and laughing and crying as the fights progressed, as if they were actually somehow invested.
 
I don’t remember caring about the teams, but I do remember caring about the tanks. I loved to watch them. It didn’t much matter what they were doing. Driving, firing, turning, burning, even just sitting still, I loved to watch the tanks. No, that’s not quite right. I loved the tanks.
 
That has never changed.
 
When I was old enough to be trusted with a bicycle, I ran away from home. The very first act of freedom I exercised was that, to run away from home. It wasn’t that I didn’t like my home, it was just that I wanted to go to Performance Armour. You’ve heard of P.A, of course. They sponsor dozens of entries in Tanki, and their tanks tend to dominate the finals. If there’s one name anyone has heard of in high-end armor customization, it’s P.A. Anyway, their complex was about 1300 kilometers from my house. I figured it was a two-day ride, so I packed plenty of toaster tarts in my hero backpack. I even sprayed my bicycle with oil, having learned the importance of quality lubrication from watching Tanki. I sprayed the wheels, the chain, the frame, the handlebars, the training wheels, even the seat. There was no way I wanted my bike to seize up in the heat of battle.
 
I made it surprisingly far. By the time I got hungry, I had reached the neighborhood park. I figured that was at least a thousand kilometers, so I’d better stop for a snack before riding the last little bit. Surely I’d be there before dinner time.
 
When the sun was getting low, I was just reaching the grocery store where we shopped. Who knew it was so far away? Was P.A. just on the other side of the parking lot? I’d been bicycling all day; surely I was close!
 
In one of those twists of fate that characterize us all, it was about that time of day when Dad would be coming home. He often stopped at the grocery to get whatever he needed for the night’s meal (Dad was the chef of the house). We ran into each other, almost literally, there in the parking lot.
 
He asked me what was up, and when I explained, he stood there for a minute, then asked if I’d mind helping him with the shopping first. Later, after dinner, I got introduced to the world of maps. Thirteen hundred kilometers, it turns out, was a bit farther than I had expected.
 
It took a little while for me to get over that disappointment and start thinking of alternatives. I started taking notice of the names of all the garages that sponsored tanks in the finals. The map in my bedroom began sprouting red pins. Dishearteningly, Performance Armour was actually the closest one. None of the big names were within my reach. So, I lowered my sights, and started mapping less-successful garages. I used colors to indicate how many tanks they sponsored and how successful they were in the matches. Yellow, green, blue, white, purple, something that could be called brown… rainbows of pins began appearing all over my map. Even black. I had my parents buy me a new map, one of the whole world, that almost covered one wall of my bedroom, and the project continued. I learned about latitude and longitude; I learned the names of continents, countries, and alliances. I found that there were armored competitions besides Tanki; that many countries had their own leagues.
 
Then one day, I stepped back from my map, and realized I had just stuck a black pin on top of my hometown.
 
Now, black meant small. Tiny. Like, only sponsored one tank, and never won a final. The world was covered in black pins, most with the same story: a group of friends scraped together enough money to build or refit one tank, and took their shot.
 
The name of this black pin was Molly’s.
 
Molly’s was a little over 30 kilometers away, in an industrial area on the outskirts of town. I had a pretty good idea of how far 30 kilometers was by this point, and it was certainly in reach for a preteen on a quality bicycle. I had a quality bicycle. I’d bought a secondhand racer when I was 10 years old, and had been tinkering on it ever since. Lightweight tires, composite brakes, low-drag derailleur, custom handlebars (I bent them myself), and dozens of other performance tweaks. Both it and I were easily capable of this. So, one Saturday morning, I told my parents I’d be back for dinner, and off I went.
 

Mahalo (thank you) for reading; I hope you enjoyed! This story is part of a series. Information on the series, and links to the other stories, can be found here.

[LOLKILLERTOTHEDEATH 1,921]

Approved!

 

Not much to suggest here. I think that it's a pretty good story. I particularly loved the imagery and details as well as your choice of words.

[thethiefofvictory 339]

mmm. Great one, very interesting, more so than your other stories because well, we have a new scenario :D

 

Wait, is this set before all others? Something tells me the protagonist is Fred...

Edited July 22, 2018 by thethiefofvictory

[GrandExecutioner 1,403]

:)

[Hippin_in_Hawaii 639]

mmm. Great one, very interesting, more so than your other stories because well, we have a new scenario :D

 

Wait, is this set before all others? Something tells me the protagonist is Fred...

The Tankiverse is vast; there are myriad stores to tell!

Edited July 23, 2018 by Hippin_in_Hawaii

[tweezers 1,034]

Presumably, this is set in a post war Tankiverse, where tanks are used as recreational vehicles rather than vehicles of war. 

 

Imagine the look on Fred's face. 

[Hippin_in_Hawaii 639]

Wait, is this set before all others? Something tells me the protagonist is Fred...

 

 

Presumably, this is set in a post war Tankiverse, where tanks are used as recreational vehicles rather than vehicles of war.

Fascinating! Two plausible realities, from two dedicated followers. I'm curious, if you don't mind indulging me... what lead you to your respective conclusions?

[thethiefofvictory 339]

Fascinating! Two plausible realities, from two dedicated followers. I'm curious, if you don't mind indulging me... what lead you to your respective conclusions?

Protagonist loves tanks, so much that he joins Tanki, and then eventually decides to join the army. Then follows Stuck, and then The Promised Land. (you could have done with not exposing the name too early)

[tweezers 1,034]

 

 

 

Fascinating! Two plausible realities, from two dedicated followers. I'm curious, if you don't mind indulging me... what lead you to your respective conclusions?

The fact that in this time, they use tanks in teams to battle for fun without - I assume - killing each other but still destroying the tanks, so also using more advanced tech that wouldn't have been available in the War. 

 

That, or this is just a really bloodthirsty society. 

[Hippin_in_Hawaii 639]

Thank you both!