Serial Killer 81: Post Apocalypse Survival (Cycle 4: Killer has been executed! SK 81 is over!)
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[HEADING=2]"To Diminutive Kerosene Torch!"[/HEADING]
The horde of former Vault Dwellers chanted as they made their way through the desolate streets. But there was at least one who wasn't as gungho as the others. Joe had wanted to strike it out on the world, explore the new frontier! Instead he seemed to be swept up in this holy crusade against porn! He had casually thrown his away a while ago, hoping to set his sights on perhaps catching a three eyed fish, or smashing some rad roaches? Turning to follow along with the horde once more, a sign caught Joe's eye.
[hr]
-Some time later-
"There's been some sort of accident or scuffle or..! Just come this way!!" One of the survivors called out to angry porn smiters. Leading you back, your led back to a descending staircase, and ushered forward you travel down the steps. Before long you start to see signs of a struggle; impacts of a hammer, energy scorch marks, chunks of the wall torched by intense heat, gun shot holes, and a pretty decent amount of blood. Eventually you find what appears to be an office space to some sort of business outlet, not the porn store that you search for, but a retrofitted fishing shack?
Pushing the ajar door open, the co-hordes would find a room totally trashed! Posters strewn about, tipped over tables and chairs, a smashed pop machine and said pop cans littering the entire floor. In the corner was a bloodied and bruised, but oddly not seemingly harmed in the lethal sense, Joe was crumpled in the corner. A look of absolute terror across his face, his arms propped up like he was trying to cover his face. It was obvious enough from the trip down this way there'd been a major scuffle, but no clear reason why Joe'd bit the big eraser in the sky until one man broke the silence.
"You don't think..?" One survivor asked.
"Death by soda can, what a way to go." Another grimaced.
The Decapitated Centaur said:Meant to send it this morning, but apparently that didn't happen. Sorry about that
Hahaaaa! My shit don't stink! The medic done saved me, and how could the medic do such a thing unless I tried to kill myself because being a murderer in the wasteland where people just die on their own all the time is unfulfilling.Fat Hippo said:
Yah, if you lied the medic could have just accused you and it'd be game. Ergo you must be the one the medic savedEvilRoy said:
Also noticed no one really checks the usergroup anymore. Put a message in there about something if people wanna check it out
[HEADING=2]Zepherus14 has been murdered! The Voting phase will now begin![/HEADING]
I always figure the sugary juice would do him in. Maybe not the way I imaged it going down but it was death by pop regardless. [user]Zepherus14[/user] had no role and has now become yet another Trickster.
Everyone has until 20:00 EST April 15 to get their votes in! Don't forget you can vote for the scenario too![hr]
I always figure the sugary juice would do him in. Maybe not the way I imaged it going down but it was death by pop regardless. [user]Zepherus14[/user] had no role and has now become yet another Trickster.
Everyone has until 20:00 EST April 15 to get their votes in! Don't forget you can vote for the scenario too![hr]
The group marches onward only so slightly fazed by the murder of [user]Zepherus14[/user]. You find yourself no longer concerned anymore.
Damn moron must have been caught with a mag.
You clutch the porno still stuffed into your shirt through your clothes.
Don't worry. I won't let them burn you.
You're honestly not sure how to feel about Misato. At first you kept your distance from her after her sudden bullet-filled outburst but in the past few days she's seemed rather docile. You even worked up the courage to start a little small talk with her the other day. You're so smooth.
Eventually you come upon the the indicated location on the map. You notice an entrance to some sort of underground bunker with a sign that reads,"Diminutive Kerosene Torch", spelled out with letters from salvage from various billboards. As you approach you the entrance you come onto a chain-link gate barring entry. Across from the gate is a muscular young man. His zit covered face suggest he's not older than 16. He's propped behind a makeshift barricade, presenting only is side to you. His muscular arm carefully levels a large hunting rifle towards you as you approach.
"Stop right der'! State yer business!"
One of your comrades steps forward, "Is this Diminutive Kerosene Torch? We... uhmm... ran into a trader a few days ago who told us about this place."
The youth's eyes light up, "You talkin' bout Jack?" At this he steps out from behind his barricade and steps forward. You're quick to notice while his right arm is muscular his left arm lies almost lifeless on his side. "He bringing anymore of de good stuff?" His voice almost cracks with excitement.
"Well about that..."
"The last issue of Grognak the Barbarian he gave me was choice! When Grognak broke into that temple and their was that gorgon there..." His right arms subconsciously begins to stroke his rifle. "I just got to know what happens next!"
"Ummm... Let me just talk to my comrades for a moment."
Everyone gathers together outside the entrance to discuss what to do.
Everyone takes a pause to consider each rational option. They then turn expectantly toward their fourth comrade for spiritual guidance.
Damn moron must have been caught with a mag.
You clutch the porno still stuffed into your shirt through your clothes.
Don't worry. I won't let them burn you.
You're honestly not sure how to feel about Misato. At first you kept your distance from her after her sudden bullet-filled outburst but in the past few days she's seemed rather docile. You even worked up the courage to start a little small talk with her the other day. You're so smooth.
Eventually you come upon the the indicated location on the map. You notice an entrance to some sort of underground bunker with a sign that reads,"Diminutive Kerosene Torch", spelled out with letters from salvage from various billboards. As you approach you the entrance you come onto a chain-link gate barring entry. Across from the gate is a muscular young man. His zit covered face suggest he's not older than 16. He's propped behind a makeshift barricade, presenting only is side to you. His muscular arm carefully levels a large hunting rifle towards you as you approach.
"Stop right der'! State yer business!"
One of your comrades steps forward, "Is this Diminutive Kerosene Torch? We... uhmm... ran into a trader a few days ago who told us about this place."
The youth's eyes light up, "You talkin' bout Jack?" At this he steps out from behind his barricade and steps forward. You're quick to notice while his right arm is muscular his left arm lies almost lifeless on his side. "He bringing anymore of de good stuff?" His voice almost cracks with excitement.
"Well about that..."
"The last issue of Grognak the Barbarian he gave me was choice! When Grognak broke into that temple and their was that gorgon there..." His right arms subconsciously begins to stroke his rifle. "I just got to know what happens next!"
"Ummm... Let me just talk to my comrades for a moment."
Everyone gathers together outside the entrance to discuss what to do.
[HEADING=3](a)[/HEADING]
"He deserves to know what happened to Jack. I'm sure if we explain it calmly and rationally he'll understand. Then maybe we can trade with some others in Diminutive Kerosene Torch. Certainly a settlement of some sort must have some provisions we can exchange."[HEADING=3](b)[/HEADING]
"No way we should tell him about Jack! Maybe we should try to convince them we're working with Jack? I'm sure they'll be more than willing to trade with us then."[HEADING=3](c)[/HEADING]
"To hell that all that covert shit," a third comrade interjects with putting out an imaginary cigar out with his boot. "Let's rob them! This big ass iguana isn't here just for show I assume? Let's hold them at gun point and take everything from them we can carry and then be on our merry way!"Everyone takes a pause to consider each rational option. They then turn expectantly toward their fourth comrade for spiritual guidance.
[HEADING=3](d)[/HEADING]
"PORN! PORN! PORN! Look upon that young man! His body is deformed by the demon himself! Surely this whole place is awash with sin! The only cure is to take it to the flame! Burn and purify!", he collapses to the ground as his fit a zealous fever leaves him.
I'm not sure why a werewolf would care about your Deathclaw hands though...Wary Wolf said:"You humans may have won over Misato for now. But I've got something that she wants and you don't have."
"Deathclaw hands!'
Misato says "I'm not a werewolf" in Deathclaw.
I know Lisa, I'm not sure why he thinks you care about his Deathclaw hands
"My name is Misato, not Lisa"
Don't let him get to you Lisa, I will stick with you, even if you lost all your werewolf hair due to the radiation!
"Swear to God I'm gonna kill him if he keeps calling me a werewolf..."
You're right Lisa! I need to focus on the problem at hand and how the disease of porn has clearly affected this city. I must convince the others that the place must be cleansed with the Fire of God!
[HEADING=2]Get your votes in![/HEADING]
Voter turn out is lower than the necessary 65% even almost a day past the deadline. I understand this is probably a busy time for a lot of people (I know the end of the semester is always hell for me) as I'm going to extend the voting deadline again to Monday April 17 12:00EST.
I'll be sending out reminder PMs to those who haven't voted yet. Please take a moment to pick someone to execute.
I'll be sending out reminder PMs to those who haven't voted yet. Please take a moment to pick someone to execute.
"For His Will be done!" Screamed the tiny man as he strode back and worth across the makeshift stage (read: a collection of piled rocks which he had insisted include an orchestra pit.) "We have purged the Vault, and that was good. We have struck down the peddler of smut, and that was better. But now we must perform our greatest duty: We must go to the Tree of Pornography and tear it out, root and branch! We must burn the magazines, tear the booklets, shatter the CDs, use permanent marker to scribble over the limericks..."
Tippy2k2's voice faded into background noise as I slunk away. This is what I get for picking my Vault based on which had the best commercial, stuck with a bunch of murderous puritanical nutjobs without a spiked shoulderpad in sight. Ah well, at least I was the one trusted with the job of security. If I get rid of Tippy, I'm sure the rest of them will see the light, and we can tell that nice boy at the gate that we want to just get some snacks at Diminutive Kerosene Torch and be on our way. Ducking behind a convenient outcropping, I took out a number of oddly-shaped packages from my bag (wrapped in brown paper and labeled, "PORNOGRAPHY: ASSORTED,") and went to work assembling my equipment.
When I finished, I could see Tippy was coming to a crescendo- some poor sod was trying to hold the Deathclaw still while the pocket dictator attempted to scramble onto her back while proclaiming, "The Apocalypse happened because you touch yourself at night!" Better do this quick, before our resident cult leader cum serial killer does something really regrettable. Again.
An enormous cloud of smoke billowed out from the gun when the trigger was pulled, along with a shattering bang echoed in confused screams. Unable to see the result of my shot, I strode forward into the gunsmoke, trying to disperse it with waves of my arm. Over the screams and my own coughs, I heard a faint sound - the rising whine of a minigun.
Oh, yeah. I really have got to keep the canon straight. It's a werewolf with heavy weapons.
As a hail of bullets ripped through the cloud and my body, I could only hope that the Serial Killer was also dead, and our little community could be free of his menace and become regular Raiders like everyone else.
Tippy2k2's voice faded into background noise as I slunk away. This is what I get for picking my Vault based on which had the best commercial, stuck with a bunch of murderous puritanical nutjobs without a spiked shoulderpad in sight. Ah well, at least I was the one trusted with the job of security. If I get rid of Tippy, I'm sure the rest of them will see the light, and we can tell that nice boy at the gate that we want to just get some snacks at Diminutive Kerosene Torch and be on our way. Ducking behind a convenient outcropping, I took out a number of oddly-shaped packages from my bag (wrapped in brown paper and labeled, "PORNOGRAPHY: ASSORTED,") and went to work assembling my equipment.
When I finished, I could see Tippy was coming to a crescendo- some poor sod was trying to hold the Deathclaw still while the pocket dictator attempted to scramble onto her back while proclaiming, "The Apocalypse happened because you touch yourself at night!" Better do this quick, before our resident cult leader cum serial killer does something really regrettable. Again.
An enormous cloud of smoke billowed out from the gun when the trigger was pulled, along with a shattering bang echoed in confused screams. Unable to see the result of my shot, I strode forward into the gunsmoke, trying to disperse it with waves of my arm. Over the screams and my own coughs, I heard a faint sound - the rising whine of a minigun.
Oh, yeah. I really have got to keep the canon straight. It's a werewolf with heavy weapons.
As a hail of bullets ripped through the cloud and my body, I could only hope that the Serial Killer was also dead, and our little community could be free of his menace and become regular Raiders like everyone else.
[HEADING=2]I, The Arbiter, Am Dead[/HEADING]