Most excellent! I wouldn't want it in any other way. Although thinking about it, In this timeperiod and reincarnation, Rick wouldn't have had an officially issued PHD in what, over 400 years? He sure does have the skills and knowlege of one though, so all is well, in the wasteland
Most excellent! I wouldn't want it in any other way. Although thinking about it, In this timeperiod and reincarnation, Rick wouldn't have had an officially issued PHD in what, over 400 years? He sure does have the skills and knowlege of one though, so all is well, in the wasteland
This is a little outside of the actual RP but in this universe there are universitys in the cities, so people would have actual PHD's, though doctors get MD's, not PHD's, PHD doctors are like History Professors
Right then, my bad. I mostly assumed that this was a slightly more developed version of '60 years after fo2' or somesush. I then retract my previous statement, and consequently I'll have to rethink Rick's profile a bit. Is it okay to add an MD to his profile? On a side note though, I love fluff! I'd love to know more about the world we're playing in.
Bartelby awoke to the smell of smoke. His trap had apparently worked much faster and much more effectively than he had planned, effectively enough to knock him out in the concusion wave from the explosion. There were growing fires starting all around him and the tavern was quickly emptying. He had to move quick or he would never move again.
He didn't know if his leg was ready for it, but then again he had been unconcious, with no way of knowing how long he had been out. It could have been seconds, minutes maybe an hour. And any way it's not like he had a choice.
Bartelby stood. And discovered that he could stand perfectly fine. "Back in my element. Thank God." Thought Bartelby as he began to run. Bartelby didn't like running. He associated it with being in danger. But he had never imagined he could miss it so very much. The fires flying by as he watched, the feeling of glass being broken as he leaped through a welcoming window and finally, the cold night air hitting his face. "Ah, this is the life."
In any event though, running away from this was unnessacary and he didn't want to put to much strain on his leg. So Bartelby turned to the night air and shouted mightily "COME HITHER!" almost immiediately came the familiar low buzz of The Bike as it parked next to it's master. Bartelby got on the front seat and was preparing to drive off before he noticed Dr. Rick looking dead. "Ha, amatuer." Bartelby had played dead more times than he could remember, before long it became an art. No one died face down with their eyes closed. Somone would have had to turn him around, force his eyes closed, and then put him back on his stomach.
"Hey, you're not dead. It's Bartelby." He shouted and then motioned to The Bike "I found the escape route.!" He than noticed the man standing next to the doctor. He looked ... tough. self-reliant. He looked like someone who might be able to start a fire, hunt a carribou, and cook three servings of perfectly cooked Carribou steak with au jus. "Finally, no more plant roots" Bartelby said quietly to himself. And The Bike had three seats. Perfect.
"Both of you, hop on." He shouted. "Unless you'd like to bake next to the bar of course, in which case you have my blessings."
Sorry for being gone so long. I slept much longer than I was planning. Also, I'm GMT - 5 where I live.
Rick, deducing that the man standing above himself is, infact, not hostile, opens his eyes, and responds. "No, I am quite alive, thank you. Rick Valor, at your service" He says, ankwardly stretching his arm backwards in a not-so-very comfortable way.
I've tried to link up with rick (if you haven't noticed) becuase he can help my character heal his brother (or be unable to help when we reach him, either of which will end up with me sticking with them). And it will give an account for the time space we aren't playing (the weekend). (maybe if rick wakes up, we can pick up sgt on thre way out of the tavern) Good idea or what?
"No, not quite. Well, maybe my pride has taken a blow or two, but no matter. Who might you be?" He says, smirking. (Wich, in a way, looked very odd, since he has yet to turn his head, and thus still laying with his face down in the dirt)
[Arlonious]
"My name is Arlonious Tyran, and i'm just a passerby, looking for someone to help me heal my brother. It doesn't seem I'll find much help in this place now", I reply hepling rick up.
Rick accepts Artoniou's help, and stands up on shakey legs, while he waves at Bartleby.
He then studies Artnous face. "Your brother? What is wrong with him?" he asks, curiously. "And where is he? Certanly not, well, there?" he states, pointing at the flaming inferno that was once a bar.
Rick thinks for a moment. "Badly wounded? Perhaps I can be of some assistance. You see, I happend to be a doctor. And a good one at that, if I do may say so myself. Perhaps we could join forces, in a combined endevour?" He smiles. "Ah, but I do belive that my aquaintance over there.." he points at Bartleby "...wants us to join him. Shall we talk as we go?" he asks, trowing a distrustfull eye at the remnants of the armed men. "This area isn't the safest I'm afraid"
Bartelby overheard the tough man say something about the Barrens.
"The Barrens? That's a long way away. Perfect! We need to get out of here and the barrens sound like the perfect place to escape for a while. Anyway, if you want to get back to your brother there isn't a faster vehicle in 300 square miles than my Bike. It travels 420 anywhere on Earth."
Bartelby looked around and realized he still didn't know quite where he was. But one of the others would. "If you know the directions, I can provide the ride." He said with a smile. "The name's Ex-Sgt Bartelby Fargrounds. How do you feel about the Federation?"
"Well, that sounds absolutely terrific. Say, your motorbike seems very comfy, mind if I jump aboard?" Rick asks slyly, as he seats himself. "Aah, now this is something else" he proclaims as he sinks into the seat, lazy bliss in his eyes.
and with that, I'm off to bed. I've already probably caught severe brain hemorrhage due to lack of sleep. Maybe I'll be able to swing in a message before I head to work in the morning. If I don't, and the plot advances before I get back, Rick is dozing happily in the seat of Bartelby's bike.
Chris hops in the car and remembers the offer to get his gun tuned. He looks around the dashboard to find something to tinker with so nobody could start the car and drive off with his new ride.
"This looks important enough..." He says as he pulls on a bunch of wires under the steering wheel. Satisfied, he leaves the car and heads into the gun shop
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He sure does have the skills and knowlege of one though, so all is well, in the wasteland
