The REALLY Wild Wasteland. (The Fallout RP!)

[RobDaBank]

The group began heading forward, negotiating the various traps that lay ahead of them. Some were quite open and obvious, some were well hidden. At one point Wayne found himself stepping on a pressure plate, hidden underneath some old metro posters on the ground. He found himself struck by a baseball in the arm, a little painful but not deadly. David happily obliged by stepping in front of Wayne and expertly catching the volley of baseballs that followed the first, pocketing a couple in his jacket pocket.

Wayne had managed to disarm and pick up a bear trap, which he slung over his shoulder, figuring it could come in handy at some point. He also picked managed to disarm a grenade bouquet, which gave him 3 grenades to use in place of dynamite.

Overturned baby carriages though, were one trap Wayne had never seen. He followed FalloutDavid as he gave them a wide berth, figuring they must have some way of knowing if somebody got close enough and exploding or something like that.

Once the initial clump of traps were passed, David began to walk with much more care, the sound of muffled voices echoed down the sewer, as well as the faint glow of light.

"Told you it'd be raiders" David confirmed. "Hang back a second"

"All yours buddy" Wayne replied.

David made his way round the bend of the tunnel, Wayne followed well behind so he could at least give him cover if he needed it, rifle in hand. There were raiders, in a small sand bagged circle, one was sat down prepping up a jet inhaler. David moved swiftly against the wall before pulling out a baseball and throwing it to the other side of the circle. The noise causing the two standing raiders to turn their back to David, this was when he pounced. He leapt over the sandbag, drove his foot into the back of the closest raiders leg, causing him to kneel, and then grabbed his head, twisting it violently to snap his neck. *CRUNCH* the sound made the other standing raider turn, leveling his weapon. David threw the other baseball straight into his nose, causing the raider to flinch. David leapt forward and delivered a crushing punch into the raiders nose. It may or may not have killed him, but one thing was for certain, he wasn't getting up any time soon. That left the final raider sat at the desk, the jet still working its way into his system. He was frozen in fear. FalloutDavid walked slowly toward him, cracking his knuckles together, a slow wet patch appeared between the raiders legs, the adrenaline and jet working around his system began to show as he began shaking violently with fear. He got up and ran, straight toward Wayne and Stan.

"Let him go" Called David, he won't bother anybody. Wayne obliged and stepped aside for the whimpering man, and began walking down to regroup with David.

*Bang* "Ahhh!" The noise from behind was obvious, the fumbling raider had fallen prey to one of his own traps.

"Let's get a move on" Called Wayne, trying not to seem too impressed by how effortlessly the Enclave warrior had taken out the raiders. Creatures were easy for Wayne, he knew they were all too predictable, he knew their weaknesses, how to exploit their instincts. People however were always unpredictable, no two people were the same. They could be much more difficult to take care of. The last thing Wayne wanted to do was seem useless to this man, "The next group's mine" He said with a wink, and continued on in the dank, dim sewer.

 

[SamtheDeathclaw]

As Wayne and Cheekbones swept forward, disarming traps quickly and efficiently, Stan just kind of hung back. He knew he didn't have the eye for seeing traps or the dexterity to disarm them. Basically, he was showing off how useless he could be for David. Good deal.
Soon, though, they came up on the raider camp. David went on ahead, and easily murdered all of the Raiders. Real nice guy. Stan focused on following Wayne as he moved to cover David. Stan had never really gotten the hang on immediately killing anyone who looked like a threat. He knew it was standard procedure in the wasteland, but it never really sat right with him. His mother'd spin in her grave if he acted like David, killing without a second thought or giving them a chance to be non hostile.
He shrugged. Oh well. I'm sure they're bad. I sure hope so.
"The next group's mine" Wayne said after it was all done, obviously unaffected by the violence. Of course not. Most Wasters were used to it. Just not Stan, apparently.
Stan remained uncharacteristically silent. He couldn't think of anything to say, the muffled CRACK of the man's vertebrae echoing in his ears. He stayed behind the other two as they continued into the sewer.

 

[Generic NPC 22]

Enclave Vault: Any One of the Vault's Corridors

"You have not been processed and are trespassing within the Vault. You will accompany me to a cell NOW and remain there or I will reduce you to a glowing stain on the wall. We will not take your shit on our home turf." Said the Heavy Trooper with his Plasma Vulcan pointed at the Quite Crazed Riding Hood that was standing in the middle of the corridor, glaring at the Trooper and the Replicants that stood in her path.

If the Heavy Trooper was expecting little ole Sylph to be scared by his overly-large-must-be-compensating-for-something Plasma Vulcan or the four equally compensatory Super Sledges, he should have thought again and should not have been surprised when the girl started sprinting at him.

By the time the Heavy T had realized that this was not going to be a quiet capture, Manic Red had already covered half the distance between her original position and the position of her targets.

By the time the Heavy T had squeezed the trigger on his plasma phallus, causing the multiple barrels to start spinning, the Pissed off Red Riding Hood had covered three quarters of the distance between her original position and the position of her targets.

By the time the first plasma bolt of the plasma salvo had left the Heavy T's giant multi-barrel plasma doohickey, the Quick Little Girl with the Blue hair had already fully covered the distance between her and the Giant Power Armored Asshole and was in the process of running between Heavy Trooper's legs, a ribbon flicking out and wrapping itself around one of the Giant Idiot's log sized wrists, as the Red Menace jumped forward to deliver a head jarring kick to the face of one of the Replicants causing it to fall backwards, stunned, pissed but very much alive.

*WHIFF!!*
*WHIFF!!*
*WHIFF!!*

The other three Replicants swung for the bleachers and found nothing but air as Sylph used her victimized Replicant as a spring board, as well as the ribbon that was wrapped around the Power Armored Hulk's arm, to ascend to the top of the H.T.

"Listen Fuck Face, I don't care where I am or who the hell you are, you'll take whatever I give you and like it." The Manic Red Girl's voice whispered into the H.T.'s audio pickups as she start stomping on the top of the armored behemoth's head with her size Seven and a Half steel toed boot.

*SWISH!! CRASH CRASH CRASH!!*

The rather pissed of Heavy Trooper, unphased by the boots the side of his dome, moved his arm and sent his rider through an automatic door and into a storage bay where she landed with a loud crash.

Staggering to her feet the Heavy might have been a bit disturbed by the fact that the pain he had inflicted caused the girl in the red dress to smile a smile that was visible in the darkened room. Or it might have been the fact that the newly armed girl was hoisting up an Anti Materiel rifle that was longer than she was tall.

*BOOOOOM!!!*

The rifle spoke loudly as it unloaded an Armor Piercing round that struck one of the Replicants in the chest, sending chunks of mechanical widgets exploding backwards and clanking all over the walls.

"Well I'll be damned." Sylph muttered as she saw that the Replicants weren't human at all.

 

[Generic NPC 22]

The Enclave Vault: Interrogation Room #5

"Again." The voice from behind the Power Armor Helmet ordered as its owner absently played with the Combat Knife that she had purloined from the Friendly Neighborhood Undertaker's inventory, flipping the blade between Power Gauntlet clad fingers.

They had been at it for what seemed like a few hours now. Undertaker McGee would tell his story and the Anonymous Interrogator would order him to repeat his story while whomever was sitting behind the one way mirror watched and judged the merit of the man's story, as did the number of vocal pickups and video cameras that observed the Pale, Tall and Darkly Clad Undertaker's every word and every movement.

"Again." The Bitchy and Impatient Interrogator ordered.

"I told you, I assisted Miss Lucy Black in infiltrating the Brotherhood of Steel and provided services to her that allowed her to come and go as she pleased to report her activities and gathered intelligence to her contacts. In return for my services, Miss Lucy Black promised me a contract with the Enclave to provide burial services for its fallen in light of the fact that the Brotherhood of Steel is more than likely going to fall. Even if the Brotherhood makes if for a while longer, I would still be able to not only provide services for both the Enclave and the Brotherhood, but I could easily bring back information vital to the Enclave's cause." The Undertaker said as he noted that the interrogator had stopped toying with the knife and was now holding a remote control that controlled the recording equipment in the room.

BEEP!

The red lights on the cameras went dark as they ceased recording and probably the microphones too.

"You know... you could have made this easier on yourself."

 

[Rip Van Rabbit]

Lucy had eventually regained consciousness, only to be found in a dimly-lit room.

"Ahh, you're finally awake Miss Lucy...Black?"

An unfamiliar voice called out close to her, and all was revealed when the lights of the room were turned on. The sheer glare caused Lucy to shield her eyes before the lights were quickly dimmed down to a more bearable level.

"My apologies. While your surgery was a success, I would still like to do some manual tests of my own."

That's when Lucy realized that the weight of an eyepatch was no longer present, nor was the hollow aching associated with the loss of her eye.

Her field of vision was restored and that could only mean:

She could see again.

"This may hurt, I'm afraid..."

The, now presumed, doctor ran minor tests to see how her new eye responded to different levels of light, movement and whether basic reactionary functions were intact.

"That's a relief. I would recommend that you wear the new eyepatch for at least 48 hours. Our medical technology is superb, but we can only do so much about how the recipient will respond to our developed materials. How do you feel?"

Lucy groaned slightly as she slipped on the more fashionable black eyepatch.

"Foul-tempered, thankful...but ultimately surprised. How is this even possible?"

The doctor simply chuckled before he replied.

"Welcome to Enclave medicine! For exceptions or an emergency, we have the basics for replacements parts on standby. Simply put, we grow and mold our own organs, muscle, bone...-you get the idea...something like an eye-replacement was rudimentary."

While this was simultaneously amazing and terrifying, Lucy wasn't really paying any attention, since she noticed that her rifle was nowhere to be found.

"Wait, where is my gear? More importantly, where is my rifle?"

"Hmm? Your gear can be found in your temporary quarters. Your rifle was taken by one of the 33rd technicians. Probably being processed and dismantle-..."

The Doctor stopped when he saw Lucy's expression and merely motioned to her escort waiting at the door. "Take her to the 33rd armoury, it'll most likely be there."

[hr]

With no hesitation she was briskly lead down the many twists and turns of the mazelike facility, only to descend a few floors down before entering another maze of clinically clean corridors.

Finally approaching the armoury, her escort silently waited outside while she entered into what looked like an obscenely large firing range and workshop. A few power-armored soldiers could even be found testing various weapons against numerous...empty suits of power armor as target practice.

"This is phenomenal...forgotten series...never been activated...ignorant owner..."

Lucy crossed her arms when she stood in front of a nearby workbench, an individual with various magnifying lenses attached to his glasses was inspecting her very rifle. She could easily recognize those scratches from the many times she's dropped it, all the way down to the signature etching of a crude rose made in Frank's honour on the grip.

Her gauss rifle was exposed and had various machines hooked up to it. If it were human, she'd presume it to be under life-support.

"The owner is standing right here. What the hell are you doing with it?"

Lucy glared at the man, who seemed to be in a world of his own when he addressed her.

"Isaac's daughter! The owner of the unactivated GRP! Just standard processing and evaluation until I discovered...all this!"

The techician pointed to the innards of her rifle, technology that was beyond her grasp or even a frame of reference, as if the answer was evident.

"...I don't even know what I'm looking at-...this is not what you'd find in the books."

The technician smirked before placing one of the devices connected to the rifle in front of her.

"You're in posession of a recent collectors item. These GRP models were mostly discontinued because the alternate firing mode proved too impractical for field use. So the idea was scrapped entirely."

Okay, this man now had her full attention. "Excuse me, alternate firing mode?"

"Yes yes! Without going into its technical construction, the GRP will respond to a specific voice command recognized only by it's designated owner. In Devil Trigger mode, our little nickname, the GRP will release it's power restraints, providing the user with an even more devastating shot. The offset is that the GRP sacrifices stability and can only be operated once the cooldown of 1 minute is complete."

Lucy was then informed and instructed to record her own activation and a preset deactivation command. Following that, her reassembled rifle was handed back to her and she was lead to the firing range. Her target was a group of empty suits of power armor. Her range was seperated on either end by a blast wall.

"I just installed a small monitor that will track and display the cooldown process. Try it out..."

Lucy held a familiar stance as she took aim for the head. At this range, a headshot would be child's play.

"Invert controls: The Beast!"

What happened next was unlike anything she had ever experienced. The parts on her rifle shifted out of place to allow pylon-like restraint bolts to slide out of the sides. The rifle started to violently shake and while she tried to retain her stance, she extended her arm out of panic when the parts that slid back for the pylons, bound themselves around her wrist painfully.

She couldn't let go of the weapon even if she wanted to, but the weapon was shaking too violently for her to retain any sense of accuracy. Hastily, she pulled the trigger and was nearly deafened by the sheer sound of the blast that erupted from her rifle.

While the rifle had started to expend an exceptional amount of heat, she noticed a small digital timer currently displaying ("00:59") on the side of the rifle.

Without a moment's hesitation, she shouted the deactivation phrase. "Disengage!"

And with this, the rifle slowly ceased shaking. The restraint bolts slowly sliding back into place as the cooldown period eventually grew to an end.

"What the hell happened?!"

An unfamiliar, but clearly surprised soldier emerged next to her, pointing down her target range.

To see what he meant, Lucy surveyed the damage. She had missed her targets entirely, but her blast had bore through the blast wall seperating her firing range from the next and had left a heaping mess of the power armor propped up in that range.

[hr]

The technician decided to have her rifle's coils replaced and have minor maintenance performed while she got her bearings.

"Usually, that mode requires the use of power armor to counteract the instability. Even then, most find it unwieldy...there you go, these new coils are the most resistant we have available. Just don't abuse the function and everything should be fine."

"Thank you, I appreciate it. I just didn't expect any of this..."

The eyepatched girl was smiling through the entire exchange, not out of relief, but out of the sheer thrill that came with the idea of wreaking havoc on the Enclave with their very own weapon.

[hr]

Briefly stopping at her temporary quarters to get her backpack. She found that her ammo and stimpacks were intact, yet her plasma pistol was missing.

Lucy noted that it had probably been quite a few hours since her arrival. Where the heck was Shifty?

Partly, she hoped that he didn't destroy her slippery cover and ambitious hopes. Mostly, enough time had passed to the point where worrying was acceptable.

Frustratingly, she couldn't risk exposure just for the sake of clarity. Lucy had come too far for her fight to be ruined by her worries.

That's when she overheard the nearby conversation between her armed escort.

"Dammit, there's a silent alert near this section of the floor. Some of our men are down. A single hostile."

"Well...looks like our job here is done and that takes priority! Let's go!"

And just like that, Lucy was left alone in her quarters...

 

[RobDaBank]

More time had passed, more distance was covered, more traps were avoided. The thrilling trio were making good progress, not a raider in sight. Stan had kept quiet, looking a little uneasy, possibly about the earlier killings. Truth was, Wayne never liked killing humans, they were all like him when you looked at the big picture, all doing what they have to to survive. Trouble was raiders relied on other people to survive. Or to be more specific their valuables. It was shoot first or be shot with these people, and Wayne was a good shot.

His chance to prove himself came when they came upon a service room to the side of the tunnel. It was clearly occupied, if the sandbags lining the steps and the empty jet inhalers littered by the door weren't evidence enough, then the muffled voices from behind were.

'I''ll take this one' Wayne nodded to FalloutDavid, who folded his arms and took a step back, as if to say Go ahead

 Wayne approached the door carefully, he wasn't the stealthiest of people, but luckily the closed door hid his footsteps. Pulling the bear trap from his back he set it two paces back from the door, then pulled a grenade out from earlier. "Hey assholes!" He shouted as he pulled the door open slightly, pulled the pin on the grenade and blindly threw it in.

"Shi..." *BANG*

Wayne moved back into the tunnel, standing by the sandbag wall, drawing his 10mm pistol out. Two raiders charged out of the door, the first stepped into the trap, falling over, the second falling over the raider. Wayne leant over the sandbag wall, pushing the pistol into the second raiders head, and fired a round through his skull and into that of the first raider.

Wayne looked to the door, "You bastard!" Came a call as an arm wielding an smg passed through the half open door. Wayne spun back, digging his back into the wall of the tunnel and pulling up his rifle. 

*Tat tat tat tat tat tat tat tat tat click click click*

Wayne was quick to spin forward, facing the door as he watched the arm pulling back into the door way. Not fast enough. Wayne fired a shot straight into the wrist of the offending limb, and charged the door. The raider was on his knees, crawling back to one of his comrades whom had fallen prey to the grenade, reaching for his weapon. When he realised he wouldn't make it in time he held up his good arm, the other pulled up to his chest.

"Please!" He begged. Wayne didn't listen, he wasn't going to risk this guy stabbing him in the back, he fired a round straight into his head, his lifeless body falling to the floor with a loud thud in the now deathly silent room.

Wayne began searching the room for loot, something to sell when the terrific trio made it to The Kingdom of Dave or whatever he called it. The room was full of the usual loot, bobby pins, pencils, caps, ammo (An extra 24 rounds for his rifle and revolver) and a few weapons. Without his Robobrain he would have to carry it all himself. His curiosity did pique when he came accross a door, covered in markings like 'Keep Out'. Signs like that usually meant 'There's something valuable here, but we don't want you to see it'. He stood, inspecting the lock. He couldn't pick it, and shooting it would just damage it. Suddenly he felt something grab his leg, and pull hard. He looked down to see one of the raiders, at least he thought he was a raider, this one wore a lab coat and glasses. "Don't go in there you fool" he coarsely whispered, before letting out a deep breath and passing away.

Now Wayne was REALLY curios, and so was FalloutDavid, apparently, who had been stood in the doorway watching the raider/scientist/doctor/technician.

"Any good at lock picking?" Smirked Wayne.

 

[ImSkeletor]

Things Go Bad Part 1
Zoom siezed till his bones began to crack under the pressure. "Don't worry this shall all be over soon enough. Soon you will won't remember any of this. A few hours of intense suffering for decades of greatness. It is all for the best, despite what you think of me right now I am working for your best interests as well as my own," Said the good doctor straightening the papers on his desk. He heard a series of cracks coming from Zoom. "Ah time to leave the lasting impression." He typed on his keyboard. A Grainy film of an Enclave propaganda video began to play.

A man with partially gray hair stood in front of an American flag flapping in the breeze. He spoke in a warm welcoming voice, "Hello. I have been authorized to tell you about an organization close to my heart, the Enclave. The Enclave is here to ensure the safety and prosperity of the American dream after the old world came to an end. We will do everything it takes to bring America to its former glory and perfection. Some people will stand against your freedom, your safety, and the restoration of civilization. These people are terrorists, and they will seek to prevent all progress to our goals. They will seek to take away everything you have and everything you will have. These people must be stopped for the betterment of all people. Some people will simply be made unequal. Eradiated freaks. Mant of these people will need to be eliminated for the sake of the gene pool. So remember, while we may do some short terms wrongs we are doing them for the greatest of goods." The video turned off and Cox turned off the power surge. He looked into Zoom's eyes. "Remember your directives my friend.
1.Never disobey orders by a superior unless told to by someone superior to them.
2.You did not exist until this process is complete. All of your connections to others must be forgotten. However, you will off course remember all the things you have learned about survival and the world that exists around you.
3. All of those undesireable traits I detailed are now a thing of the past. You are now a soldier, A WARRIOR. Anything that harms that must go.

Barry: Are we going to go out like this.
Eobard: It appears that way.
Barry: I don't want to die like this! I was supposed to go down fighting. I wasn't supposed to get puy down like a rabid dog.
Eobard: I'm sorry brother...for everything.
He finally drifted in unconsiousness.

 

[wilcoblackflame]

So many headaches. Behemoths, Crabs, Enclave, Traitors and....Frank. It felt like it'd been ages since Marlon had gotten an opportunity to do something more relaxing.

Making use of the present calm before the inevitable storm that was surely not too far off, the Van Graff had made his way down to the Brotherhood workshops and had busied himself tinkering together a prototype of a weapon he'd been contemplating for a while. Besides, it was hard to find gauss components in anywhere near the amount the brotherhood had access to and high velocity was going to be key if this gun was going to work as planned.

Removing the tube of rolled up blueprints from his battered pack, he spread them out on the workbench and set about seeing if he could put this sucker together as planned.

Let's assume an under construction montage goes here.

The basic shape of the gun looked similar to a gauss rifle in its basic structure, though quite clearly heavily modified. The size of the barrel in particular was noticably a little bigger. Lying on the workbench nearby were several small spikes, smooth and thick in design. A few of irregular size had been discarded to one side. False starts before getting the size just right and molding several more in the uniform shape. A few of them had been sealed closed, although most of them were open at the non-pointy end and clearly hollow.

The gun itself complete, Marlon loaded one of the spikes that had been sealed tight into the weapon and took aim at a target dummy with the chestpiece from a suit of power armor strapped to it. Now, time to see if what looked good in theory worked in practice. He raised the gun, took aim and pulled the trigger.

The spike flew from the barrel, moving at high speed gauss tech so kindly provided and lodged itself deeply into the chestplate. Marlon smiled a little. Just a little mind, because he was waiting with baited breath to see if part two worked as planned. He didn't have to wait long though. Less than a second after the spike skewered the chestplate, it exploded in a familier burst of green goop. Marlon's smile grew to a full size grin. Perfect. Exactly what he'd been hoping for. He fired off the remaining few test spikes to be certain, punching another few holes and subsequent heavy plasma damage to the chestpiece.

Project Swordfish was a success.

He turned back to the unsealed spikes and set about preparing them as he'd done with the test spikes, filling each with a microfusion cell wired to a crude, single use firing mechanism, similar to what you'd see in the guts of a plasma rifle or pistol, designed to activate upon a large enough impact. He chuckled to himself as he prepared and sealed up several more spikes, loading the gun and stashing the remainder in his ammo pouch. This was something he'd wanted to get the goods to make for a good long time. Or something like it at any rate. Something capable of puncturing or at the very least lodging into a suit of power armor and delivering an energy weapon payload in a manner much better suited to ruining the structural intergrity of the armor or applying the hot green goo directly to the suit's inhabitant.

Admittedly, when he'd originally considered the idea, he'd been planning on using it on the Brotherhood. The Enclave being little more than ghosts out west. Ironic therefore that he'd finally been able to put it together in a brotherhood workshop, in co-operation with them no less. Still, he was going to use it for the same purpose on a different set of power armored goons, so maybe it's not so ironic after all.

 

[JokerboyJordan]

The sudden onslaught of gunfire from the raiders only added to the cacophony of noise that was the whirring blades of the (presumably) Enclave Vertibirds that flew overhead. The raiders attempts to fire upon the trio proved relatively fruitless, their terrible aim reminded Hayes of a certain academy [http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/ImperialStormtrooperMarksmanshipAcademy] that he had heard rumours of... though a single bullet impacting with the windscreen reminded him that they were still to be seen as a threat.

Speeding towards the group, he witnessed Dudley commit vehicular manslaughter, whilst Evan took the more restrained option of exploding the very cars that the idiotic raiders had attempted to use for cover. The shockwave from the vehicles' fission engines blasted the Grasshopper, the released radiation triggering the eery glow of its luminescent paint job.

Warning, radiation has been proven to be lethal in high amounts. Please refrain from continued exposure for the sake of your life expectancy

As the cloud of dust parted, the lone raider was revealed, though what greeted him was a sight to behold.

Hayes emerged straddling the Grasshopper with his arms crossed in a majestic pose, continuing to bear down on the sole savage with renewed vigour. Atop the glare of the car and it's trail of glowing dust he seemed almost as if he was steering a blazing chariot rather than the rather feeble Flea that it actually was.

The last thought that passed through that Raider's head (other than the Grasshopper's front bumper) was probably disbelief at having been mowed down by such a craft. A few specks of red splattered on Hayes face from the newly-made roadkill, disgusting him.

"THATS how we do things back where I'm from motherfuckers!"

He clambered back inside the cockpit before shutting the roof, managing to keep his wagon fairly stable as he did so, though he was sure that he was going to have to buff some dents out later. Hayes pulled up beside the other two musketeers, giving them a thumbs up from inside the car, before using the same gesture to mock slit his throat and stick his tongue out before turning it into a thumbs down.

"Looks like Dud's the one leading on points, but you gotta admit that I'm ahead on style"

 

[Souplex]

The ghoul slammed on the brakes, probably with the intent to launch Frank like Frank had done to Marlon.
Frank was already quite heavy without the tank he was wearing though.
In his armor he was far too heavy to be launched. As were the other Paladins in the car, with one exception.
Gilford was a pilot, not an infantryman. While his official title was Paladin, he wore recon armor, not the full T-45D armor. Why would you wear full armor to sit in a chair in an armored chassis? He was also not a very heavy fellow. He received a face-full of chair.
"Ow!"
"So, you're sending our asses in instead? Fine, I don't have anything heavy though. I can track it, and dodge missiles, just don't expect me to be able to give as well as I can take, here... Though, if either of you are secretly carrying a fatman or Tesla Cannon, that'd be very helpful."
The two paladins Frank didn't know the identities of were armed with laser rifles.
[Energy Weapons 85/25]Laser rifles are mid-punch mid-long range anti-personnel weapons. No dice.
"I'm afraid not."
[Intelligence]"I'll think of something."
"Oh, and my name is Jackson... glad to meet you two. I'm currently the most handsome ghoul in the wastes, and traveler extraordinaire." He gave a small, half-hearted flourish, not bothering to look at the two.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Frank Rose. I'm a knight. Sort of. It's complicated. A Mr. Morgan Bloom currently holds the title of handsomest ghoul. He's much better dressed than you. I studied martial arts under the previous holder of that title. You can hear a radio-drama about him."
"I'm Paladin Andrew Gilford."
"I'm Paladin Barrett Russell."
"And I'm Paladin Michael Grey."
...So that was their names. That was the thing about Power Armor. If you didn't do something to make it distinct, everyone looked the same.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Perception]Danielle lost her line of sight on the robot through all the buildings.
She had nothing to do up on the Citadel walls. The crabs were dealt with, the Enclave wasn't nearby, there wasn't even a super mutant patrol to annihilate.
[Strength]...And Zeus was a heavy bastard.
"...You! Take over manning Zeus in case something else decides to attack. Probably aliens at this rate. I'm heading back in."
"I have a name! "Malcolm, take over manning Zeus!" is that so hard?"
Danielle was annoyed.
"Paladin, I'm ordering you to man Zeus."
*Sigh* "Yes Ma'm."
Danielle handed Zeus off to Malcolm. He shuddered under the weight, but held steady.
Repairs were probably done on her rifle.
Danielle headed in.
"Repairs are all done Star Paladin Rose."
The L.A.S.E.R. (Laser Augmentation System Enabled (By) Recharging) rifle was back in her hands.
Danielle inspected her rifle.
[Energy Weapons]Everything seemed to be in place.
Danielle took her rifle, plugged the rifle scope into the port on her wrist, and loaded in a bulk cell.
[Energy Weapons]Danielle switched on her scope, and blasted a nearby target dummy with a dull yellow laser.
Good.
Danielle felt happy. She didn't like having to use a normal weapon like some nameless mook. Frank had made her other custom weapons, but other than Zeus she wasn't fond of them.
Zeus simply wasn't practical for field use.
Frank had made her a "Force rifle" that used the force field technology they captured from project purity, but it was temperamental, and while it could knock over a tank, it couldn't do lethal damage to anything. It was like smacking something with a big soft glove. The greater the surface area, the more of its push it could use. But it wouldn't pierce, smash, burn, or melt. Great if you don't want to kill your target. Why would anyone ever want that?
Frank had also made her a "Fission Rifle". Apparently it used a plasma rifle's frame and magnetic containment system and a fission battery. The magnetic containment system enabled it to fire a contained fission blast. It left the area it was fired at mildly radioactive, and required regular radiation drugs to use. It did however have slightly more punch than a plasma rifle, and the blast traveled significantly faster than plasma.
"Scribe, would you mind getting me the security footage of the lab that the Enclave soldier destroyed?"
"Of course."
[Perception]Danielle heard something from the other room.
[Energy Weapons]It sounded like the familiar pop of a Gauss rifle, except while the firing sound was the same, the sound of impact didn't have the same dull thud. She also heard what sounded like a smaller plasma grenade explosion.
Danielle headed over to the other workshop where she saw Marlon holding what looked like a...
[Energy Weapons 100/75]...A modified Gauss rifle with a wider barrel.
[Perception]Some custom ammunition was laying on the workbench and hot plasma was oozing out the hole on a target dummy.
Danielle leaned against the door-frame.
[Black Widow]"After you turn down my kind offer; you go and make a long hard weapon that impales targets then fills them with hot goo? Do you need to get laid that badly?"

 

[The Harkinator]

"Do either of you have any booze? Or petrol? Hair spray? Any kind of igniting agent? If so, throw it towards any of those pods... and light it up."

That is one hell of a party Mr Truant is planning. Sadly William doesn't really have any of those things he can just whip out. He'll just have to make do with a flamethrower... wait that isn't really making do. William thought he had better communicate the lack of objects to Johnny.

"I don't have any of that stuff, but I don't need it, because I AM THE GOD OF HELLFIRE AND I BRING YOU FIRE!!"

This is what happens when you give people flamethrowers and tell them to get a good use out of them. William continued burning the pods and vines before realising that the fight would not be done until the big bad main plant was dead and crispy. So he charged straight at it firing gouts of flame shouting, "Can you feel the burn?! Come on you two TO VICTORY!"

Whether Natsuki and Johnny would follow William was up to them and the amount of destructive fire they could bring.

=================================

"Oh you think you can award yourself style points? I used an environmental hazard, so I should get some intuition points for my idea." Said Evan, annoyed that Hayes would put him at the bottom of the list. The dust had settled after the brief battle and the spoils of war had been collected. The Three Musketeers had stopped to discuss the preceding events and gotten into an argument over the fight.

"Now hold yer horses there both of ya, I got a double kill so that's probably some kind of score multiplier right there. An' look how far he went after I hit him, that's got ta be some bonus points." Snapped Dudley, fearful of being overtaken on a technicality. While Dudley and Hayes bickered over the intricacies of technique Evan drafted up a list:

WILD WASTELAND SCORING SYSTEM:

Kill +1
Enclave Kill +5
Power Armour Kill +10
Melee Kill +5
Environmental Hazard Kill +15
Vehicle Kill +10
Extreme Overkill +20
Double Kill x2
Triple Kill x3
Quadruple Kill x4
Quintuple Kill x5 (max bonus)
Super Mutant Kill +15
Ghoul Kill +5
Animal Kill +1
Predator Kill +10 (Deathclaws, Yao Guai, Radscorpions etc)
Robot Kill +5
Large Enemy Kill +20
Giant Enemy Kill +45
Vertibird Kill +50 (stacks with occupants)
Fallout Sector Kill +100
Brotherhood of Steel Kill -1000
Scribe Evan Ramsey Kill = YOU JUST LOST THE GAME

Evan finished his list with a flourish and said, "Just on that last fight, Dudley is on 32... no wait 34 points, Hayes is on 11 points and I'm on 16 points. So I'm not last!"

Maybe others would use this list to keep track of their performance in battle... now there was a thought.

 

[TheDoctor455]

"Nice," Johnny called out to one of the walking flamethrowers, "Need to keep the pods dying out... and..."

Johnny finished reloading his rifle.

"Now its my turn to shine." The disappointingly sober Johnny Truant bragged as he fired his first shot, aiming it right at the 'hinges' of the giant venus flytrap's 'mouth'. It missed by a longshot. "Shit. Umm... okay, let's try that again."

Fired two more shots. Both missed.

"Damn it!"

Johnny loosed three more rounds. One missed, the other two hit. One grazed the 'hinge' on the left, the other severed the right-hand 'hinge' completely, leading to an odd kind of lopsidedness as half of the creature's mouth became useless.

"Umm... better than nothing. I guess."

Johnny fired at another cluster of nerves connecting the creature's vines to the main part of its 'body'. Neatly trimmed that hedge in one shot. (read into that line what you will, perv) Consequently, three more vines lay inert, rendering the Audrey-III wannabe just a bit more vulnerable.

 

[Generic NPC 22]

The Enclave Vault: Interrogation Room #5

"(I must be in shock.)" The Tall and Paler than normal Undertaker thought to himself as he watched his broken phalanges mending themselves with the assistance of a Super Stimpack that the Enclave Interrogator had jammed into his arm after she had broken his fingers.

The previous hour had proven to be interesting as the Enclave Interrogator, who called herself #411, had passed the time doing significantly painful and harmful things to the normally coherent giant's body, things that were meant to "gently" coax the truth out of Young Shifty McGee.

Looking from his now fully healed hand, he looked at the Interrogator and imagined her smiling under her power armored helmet. Sitting back down in the metal chair that sat opposite of the one that the normally dapper and affable gentleman was seated in, #411 clicked a button on the remote, powering on the cameras and audio pickups once again.

"Enclave Unit #411 continuing interrogation of subject Undertaker Thomas 'Shifty' McGee." The woman under the mask said clinically before returning her full attention back towards the sweat soaked Undertaker.

"Thomas? Would you believe me if I told you that I didn't like doing any of that to you? It's the truth. I've never been one for barbarism but I've found that the infliction of pain can be so much more convincing than the strongest of those so called 'truth serums.' I'd consider it a favor if you didn't make me have to do all that again." #411 said, like an abuser to their victim.

"I'd consider it a favor if you didn't do that either Miss 411 but considering that you have ignored my repeated statements regarding my intentions to start business with the Enclave, I highly doubt that you will be stopping your wanton depravity against my body in the near future." There was a slight pause as Shifty remembered the physical abuse that he had just endured over the last hour. "Of course, I suppose there's no harm in repeating myself. Over the last few weeks, I've been assisting your Enclave Asset, Lucy Black, with her mission to infiltrate the Brotherhood of Steel. In return, she promised me an opportunity to open negotiations with the Enclave to handle the bodies of your departed, this is especially important since in the long run, it appears that the Brotherhood of Steel will eventually run out of bodies to bury and since Lucy decided to return to this facility, I found it quite necessary to hitch a ride since she is my only contact within the Enclave itself."

#411 did not look amused, or rather The Ruffled and formerly Dapper Undertaker imagined that she did not appear amused underneath the unchanging glare of the Enclave Helmet.

*click*

The button on the remote was pressed and the lights on the cameras and the audio pickups dimmed before another button on the remote was pushed, causing a panel on one of the walls to open, revealing a Protectron.

"Fully Integrated Security Technotronic Officer is online" The Protectron droned as it marched out of its hidden alcove.

"FISTO, service our guest here." #411 chuckled as she reclined in her metal chair to watch the show.

[hr]

The Enclave Vault: Storage Room

The Red Menace found herself on the run from her pal, the Heavy Trooper, once again as the Plasma Vulcan was brought to bear, spewing Plasma Bolts at an alarming rate, destroying everything in its path. Even as the Heavy Gorilla moved forward with his finger seemingly perma-mashed on the Vulcan Plasma's trigger, the remaining three Replicants spread out in order to flank their target.

Looking from her hiding spot, Sylph could see that she wasn't in any sort of winning position, especially with the Replicants flanking her while the Heavy kept her from making any offensive moves.

"Dammit." The girl with the blue hair muttered as she looked around her for something that could distract the group long enough for her to make an escape.

The room was fairly simple, just row after row after row of shelf after shelf after shelf. Were it not for the fact that the shelves were stocked with every non-Enclave standard weapon imaginable, including a few that Sylph had never imagined possible, the room would have looked like a library with the number of shelves that were lined up, which gave the little maniac an idea.

Swinging her new rifle into position, Sylph quickly took aim at a shelf that seemed to be stocked full of explosives and pulled the trigger.

BOOOM!!!!

The explosives shelf blew apart into itty bitty little pieces, its shrapnel causing the shelves around it to start tipping over into the shelves next to them.

THUNK!!!
THUNK!!!
THUNK!!! THUNK!!! THUNK!!! THUNK!!!

The shelves started dominoing all over the room, cutting off the Replicants from Sylph and confusing the Heavy's targeting computer as it detected movement coming from all over the room before spotting the girl one last time as she gave the Heavy Asshole the middle finger and disappeared into a vent.

 

[Generic NPC 22]

The Enclave Vault: Interrogation Room #5

*click*

The button on the remote was pressed and the lights on the cameras and the audio pickups powered back on as #411 spoke once again.

"Enclave Unit #411 continuing interrogation-"

"MY LEGS! I CAN'T FEEL MY LEGS!!" The Anguished Undertaker screamed as he tried to get back into the chair, though without the use of his legs it was rather futile.

"Numbness will subside in several minutes."

The Devilish Contraption droned before it settled back into the niche on the wall, the metal panel sliding shut as the service robot's services were no longer needed.

"Oh Thomas, stop being such a baby. I've used FISTO a number of times and found him to be rather, profoundly enjoyable." #411 said coolly as she watched the Ailing Undertaker finally slide his aching ass back into the metal chair.

"Now then, let's get back on topic, shall we? Enclave Unit #411 continuing interrogation of subject Undertaker Thomas 'Shifty' McGee. Subject continues to conceal information from interrogation." The Power Armor Clad ***** said as she went to a concealed drawer and removed an item from it, not revealing it to the Tall, Pale and Pained Undertaker.

"Since you won't tell me what you know, I'll tell you what we know. We know that you aren't here to start up business relations with the Enclave. We know that you sneaked onto the Vertibird that was transporting FalloutBob and the Enclave Assets back to home base. We even know that you're coordinating some sort of terroristic plot with another individual who is currently scurrying through our Vault as we speak. We know that if she wasn't distracted by our experiments on another member of the group she sneaked in with, she would have been assisting you in your escape and your plot to destroy this Vault. We have the security footage of her watching you from the vents and we have some of her personal belongings." #411 said as she produced the object from the drawer, a red gemmed choker that Undertaker Shifty McGee recognized instantly.

"(Wake up Daddy, wake up! Wake up Daddy, wake up! [small]Wake up Daddy, wake up![/small])" The Girl in Red's voice echoed in The Friendly Neighborhood Murderer's Undertaker's head as he looked directly at #411 and spoke.

"Lucy. I'll only talk to Lucy." Shifty said.

"Very well." #411 responded before patching into her radio. "Control, send a message to Enclave Asset Lucy Black. Ask her to report to Interrogation Room #5 whenever she gets a moment."

[hr]

The Enclave Vault: The Vents

Clamoring through the vents once again, Sylph cursed the Heavy Trooper and his Robo-Minions for making her climb through the filth caked ventilation system once again. The girl was annoyed and when she got annoyed, she felt rather homicidal, much to the dismay of her previous victims. It wasn't so much that she disliked the darkness of the vent, it was the fact that the vents were filthy and enclosed; it made her feel like she was in a cage, a sensation that she disliked immensely.

Pausing to get her bearings, the Barely-Out-of-her-Teens-Teenage-Homicidal-Psychopath noticed a set of tracks that had been made in the grime of the vents, a set of tracks that didn't look human at all, prompting Sylph to remember the fugly face that she had seen earlier during her attempt to rescue Master Johnny Truant.

Shaking the image from her head, Sylph continued her unhappy trudge forward, the oversized rifle strapped to her shoulders not making progress very easy. Stopping to look through one of the vent openings, the Manic Blue Haired Girl noticed a lone woman in what looked to be her quarters, a situation that caused Sylph to smile as she silently opened the vent door, intent on killing the eye patch wearing woman that wielded what appeared to be a Gauss Rifle.

Satisfied that the woman didn't notice her, Sylph pounced.

[small]*clunk*[/small]

Only her pounce was suddenly cut short as she found herself suspended in the air.

Surprised at her predicament, the Girl in Red looked for the cause of her mid-air-suspension and found that the rifle that had been her savior earlier was now a royal pain in the ass as it did not fit through the Vent opening and had in fact gotten hung up, which in turn had gotten Sylph hung up.

Hanging there in silence, Sylph hoped that the eye patched girl would not notice her as she tried to get free.

 

[nuba km]

Hearing the eyebot larry noticed, a personality, which made him curious to say the least 'halt your fire, I am friendly, please state your objectives' larry said hoping the eyebot actually believed him.

Rick: I'm an Adventure Bot! I'm here to save the wasteland from danger... Oh yeah!

Hearing the eyebot larry decided to put some enthusiasm into his voice, as if he were a narrator for an epic adventure 'well there isn't much of adventure to be had here, but I am a fellow adventurer and if you come with me we can create a great tale of slaying monsters and saving damsels'

Rick: 'Hoo-yeah! Let me at it!'

'Well just follow me and don't fire unless I tell you' Larry started heading to megaton with rick the eyebot right behind him.

 

[Rip Van Rabbit]

Now that she was here, in the heart of the Enclave, she had no idea how to attack this Titan. Lucy had never thought this far ahead...

Lucy had been vowing for her revenge and their destruction from day one. Yet over time, this journey had grown more personal for her, as if that were possible.

She never agreed with the Enclave since learning about their end-goal, more accurately, she didn't agree with their methods. Their destruction was a better alternative for the Wasteland, last thing we needed was a dictatorship...but she wasn't a hero who vowed for glory on this little quest of hers.

Not in her eyes, not anymore. Lucy wasn't fighting to save the Wasteland. Her intentions at this point aren't even remotely noble.

Idealism had only gotten herself endlessly hurt and disappointed.

Lucy just wanted to manipulate, hurt, dominate and kill everything connected to the Enclave.

She would start with those who started her hell march.

FalloutBob carried out the order. He needed to die.

FalloutJack chose the Enclave above his mentor. He was a 'special' case now.

Jack smiled at her, like her Father used to. Such a family man, just like her Father. The only difference is that he still has a family...

...his daughter, whats-her-name...nut-sushi?...no...Natsuki!

His daughter just jumped to the top of her to-kill list...

Is this what she had become? An embittered soul with nothing but thoughts of bloodshed and manipulation to entertain her?

What had happened to the girl that couldn't handle the violence over the fight with a bunch of raiders? Instead of shying away from violence, she was positively thrilled with the bloodlust that the thoughts had brought.

Every time a question had been answered over the course of her journey, the answers had created more complex questions.

She missed Frank...a lot, while his last words to her were harsh...they were true in hindsight...she manipulated people without knowing at this point. Not out of spite, but out of defense. She was so scared about letting anyone in...he would know how to summarise her thoughts and brute her way through this situation...

Which is exactly what she needed now. Direction. She actually missed him terribly...but she wondered if that wasn't just the old-hopeful-Lucy talking.

How long was she going to jump through Enclave hoops? Until she secured her position, just enough to abuse it...but she needed help...something she probably would not find in a place like this...

[hr]

*clunk*

A noise behind her had interrupted the string of thoughts in the previously silent room.

Considering where she was emotionally, she reacted with elevated paranoia and aggression. Almost growling, she answered.

"Invert controls..."

Wheeling around with her rifle supported in a strong dual grip in anticipation for the shaking.

Lucy gave the red-cloaked stranger, suspended from the ventilation system a withering one-eyed glare.

Something about an unarmored and quite frankly dirty female having emerged from the ventilation system did not strike Lucy's immediate and already fragile trust.

"...The Beast"

The rifle revved as the restraint bolts unleashed themselves and Lucy kept her arms firmly trained on the target...a young female.

Not unlike herself, in a place like this...

"Disengage..." she commanded with a sigh of frustration, while shaking her head.

Is this what she was becoming? A paranoid aggressor that had suffered one trauma too many?

Lucy holstered her rifle and stepped towards the stranger, beginning to help her down by untangling her from the weapons strap.

This unceremoniously sent the oddly blue-haired guest to crash to the floor.

She was under probation, after all. This could have been a test...

Lucy may have changed over time, but she would leave the murderous thoughts for the Enclave and this girl certainly didn't look like the part.

"Sorry about that, caught me at a bad time...are you alright?"

Lucy spoke softly but firmly when she extended her hand to help her guest up. There were still glimpses of the old Lucy buried beneath the layers...that was slightly reassuring...she didn't want to lose herself...but it was becoming all too easy to wrap herself in abrasive layers and aggression.

While usually Lucy would have her trademark glowing smile. It just wouldn't come naturally anymore. Instead she dropped the one-eyed glare and spoke more kindly, a faint smile accompanying her tone. "Lucy Black, mind telling me why you're sneaking up on me?"

[hr]

An intercom, situated in the corner of her room, burst to life moments later.

"Asset Lucy Black. Are you there?"

She was slightly surprised by the fact that they didn't know this simple question. It meant that her room was not monitored.

Taking a moment to bring a finger to her lips, she signalled towards the red-cloaked female.

"I'm here. C-can't you see me?"

She had to know for sure...

"Private quarters issued by members of the Fallout Sector do not contain any surveillance, despite our...reservations about you."

"Well that's sweet, I'll send a fruit basket tomorrow. What is it? I was-...trying to sleep."

"You are to report to Interrogation Room #5 as soon as possible."

"I already spoke to Jack-..."

"Fallout Jack...and no, this isn't about you. This concerns your Undertaker friend. #411 is with him. If I were you, I would hurry."

"...G-got it."

The speaker fell silent and so did Lucy as she turned to face her guest adorned in crimson.

Shifty Mcgee...what have you done? Was her short time here over?

 

[Pink Gregory]

"Oh, hi there!"

"What's that y'got there? You bastin' a turkey? Ah knows where y'can get pow'rful big birds, fat n' plump n' legs thicker n' a man's big arm; do a little work aroun' the farm fer a spell and they pick one out special for yuh. See, they gives you a uh a little worm, unnerstand? A little worm, n' what you gotta do is whisper to the worm - ain't no good to talk or holler, he cain't hear unless y'whisper, tiny worm ears - any o' the things you want the fowl t'know; like yer name, where yer goin', how many people yer - ouch! - how many people yer feedin' fer that meal; and the turkey he'll do whatever the worm says."

"...Yer gon' baste with that? N'aww it's awful red, red's not fer turkey, red's fer red meat; red! Where you goin'? Ah! You'll be wantin' a drink with yer grub! Well let ol' Abe set up shop here, y'got me on th' spot here young'un but I's see what ah can do. Now, uh, I got a tiiiiny sample right here, but I know where there's more, hell ah can make more, ah can make more right now; it's...it's all ah wanted to do all along. Oh, hey! Hey fella! Tubes! Got any tubes you ain't usin' or...?"

 

[maninahat]

Beryl's yearning to get to central administration was only partially impeded. These Enclave guys seemed fairly eager to let the old gal meet up with the mysterious voice over the radio, as long as she didn't run too far ahead. Beryl was swiftly guided through the last of many heavy steel doors, and found herself into a dimly lit, crowded little room. A large desk served as a centre piece, buried beneath a mountain of documents. In one corner, at a tiny desk by a tiny port hole window, a shadowy figure leant forward and pressed the intercom button.

"Due to recent events, containment Staff are once again to be reminded to steer clear from any suspicious ingenues, thank you."

Beryl strode towards the figure. She was close enough to see an impeccably clean officer's uniform, and catch a wiff of some floral eau de toilette.

Beryl licked her lips and squinted into the dark.

"Hello mom."

The figure didn't turn around just yet. Instead she reached for a coffee mug, and poured the contents into a flower pot belonging to a plastic orchid.

"How's Cormac?" said Mom.

"He died four years ago," said Beryl.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Bee."

"I doubt that mom. You were the one who beat him to death."

A chuckle came from the office chair.

"Oh yes, that's right. I must be getting forgetful."

Beryl bristled.

"You old whore, what are you doing working for the enclave?"

"Don't talk to me like that, you young slut. I like it here. I was taken on as a PoW cum custodial staff, I've since been promoted to human resources. All this is now mine!"

The figure spun on her chair and swept an arm across the piles of papers. Beryl caught a glimpse of her mater in the process. How old was she now? Inestimable. The only way to tell would be to cut her in two and count the rings.

"Now, same question, back to you, Bee."

"I don't work here," Beryl said, hotly, "I was arrested".

"It's about time," said Mom. She turned to two enclave troopers, who had been waiting by the door, snickering at the conversation. "If you need a witness, I'll gladly testify against this little shitbird. I remember when she was only four years old. She used to nail her father's shoes to the floor. With his feet still in them! I should have drowned her then."

Beryl glared.

"You need to get out of here," she said, "it's only a matter of time before you get too old and they are forced to fire you...with gunfire."

"Pfui! They're nice folk," Mom said, reaching for a bag of candy. "Want one?"

Beryl continued to glare. The silly old bird was too stubborn for her own good, and it was only a matter of time before the idiot ended up dead. Then again, on the bright side, it was only a matter of time before the idiot ended up dead. There's only so much responsibility one should take for family. Beryl shrugged and humoured the old harridan. She leant forward and took a piece of candy.

"Black currant," she said, nodding thankfully.

Mom took a candy too, and squealed.

"Ugh, black current too!"

"You don't like them?"

"No! I always put them back!" The old crone did just that, spitting it back into the candy bag.

With this sudden information coming to light, Beryl angrily spat her's out onto the floor.

"Anyway, enough talk. I've got a lot of work to do," said Mom, looking back at her desk. "The bunker is inundated with you bastard hoodlums." The old lady casually glanced over a clipboard list of prison cell occupants, imagining which would be the best to pair up with Beryl. "Guards, take her away. Just stuff her anywhere you can for now."

The two enclave brutes grabbed Beryl and dragged her towards the exit.

"God damn it, you assholes," Beryl grunted. "And fuck you too, Mom!"

"Have a nice day, dear."

As Beryl was pulled out into the corridor, she caught one last glimpse of the old crone, returning to her microphone.

"Number 221? You've failed. Return to your billet for immediate disciplining and death."

 

[FalloutJack]

For the record, FalloutDavid has been assessing the abilities of both Stan and Wayne the entire time. He was thinking that Stan was probably not suited for Enclave work as a soldier, but that he might work in the Asset program if he felt inclined to side with them. Wayne, on the other hand, was both eager to prove himself and willing to go a few extra miles on the fighting territory. What that guy needed was leg augmentation and repair, then put him in a powersuit. He had good material, and he seemed to know an ex-Enclave agent from the West Coast. Why did he want to locate this man so badly, though? The current Enclave did not even care about the retirees. They were keeping out of the way. Gannon in particular - Oh yes, they WERE spied on every now and then. - was a mere doctor. Now, in the room that Wayne had cleared out, there was a big armored door and a dead man in a lab coat saying not to open it. That made him keen to do just the opposite...

"Any good at lock picking?"

FalloutDavid: Lockpicking a door that size? I thought that was an urban myth. Stand back.

No, he was not a champion in lockpicking really. He was a stealth-sniping-fighting master with a black-belt so black that space got jealous. Once nobody was in the way, David cracked his knuckles, then his neck, and...holy shit fast flying fists! [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-_ZeD40Rg8A] The trick of it, idea that is, is that the stability of machines and the parts that hold them together can be rattled and beatened into their separate parts if done right, by someone who knows how to do it. FalloutDavid had a reasonable understanding of machines, though he was not FalloutScott. His mere presence in the Enclave gave him an edge, though. And he could never do this in his powersuit, as it would have ruined the arms of the suit in the process. The only drawback to this was...

FalloutDavid! Aaagh!

...IT STILL HURTS! He had the capability to have done this without breaking his own hands, but both hands were now quite hurt and bloody. He went to work with his stimpak and bandages as the door - while still upright - required only a good shove now to collapsed it into its bare components. What could have been in there, that was simultaneously so dangerous...and yet unable to destroy this door? It took someone as crazy as FalloutDavid to force it open...after a fashion, but what was in there? Robots? Deathclaws? A Balrog? David soon pushed the door in, which landed with a heavy CLANG, and walked into there. There were sounds of industrial machines and generators at work, as well as water and steam and...what? He came to some steps and found a...room which made no sense. Cavernous, but with machines and walkways both lining it and sticking out from all angles, except the floor. On the floor, there was a man. No, he was a corpse. There was no movement, except...when he looked away, he thought he saw a flicker of motion. And he'd looked away because he thought he'd seen another flicker of motion up on the ceiling. Had the room just...changed? He looked carefully. There. Something solid was...flickering in positions. There were parts moving that shouldn't have, and that was when he saw the raiders. Dead raiders, half sticking out of solid matter, their bodies shiking and flickering about endlessly as though by some unknown force. He looked down at the ma- RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIM! Not dead and right in front of him!

"Howdy!"

FalloutDavid: Hello...

The didn't seem to acknowledge him properly. There was this dead and unblinking stare the whole time, and then...the head twisted on its neck without resistance or sound, just...doing it. The arms began to wave funny. The left lag was...reversing itself?!

"Howdy!"

FalloutDavid: Umm, goodbye.

He ran back to find the others, then seek out what looked like a doctor's notes, a notepad, scraps of paper - something! He actually found it in the man's pocket and read carefully, then...he looked up at Wayne and Stan.

FalloutDavid: Gentlemen, I don't mean to alarm you...but there's a man living there in a room that cannot exist and he twists and flails around in a manner which should not be.

...I am certain now that this is where it originally came from, the ever-prevent horrorshow that plagues us everywhere, yet we do not see it. This place was situated as a nexus somehow, the lines never quite meeting and the matter somehow not solid. We lost three to this place, yet there are more. I installed the door for safety's sake, but someone heard a voice and...well, we lost two more that time. I couldn't help but believe that something from the outside, somewhere beyond this unfastened reality, was looking in. The man in the room may have been it. We don't go near him. We don't want to go near him. We see him in our nightmares, endlessly contorting without concern...

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Whether or not any of them believed in Evan's scoring system was beside the point, of course. Survival was the real key there. However, according to the memory Evan had of the terrain they were crossing - because dammit, William had had his Pipboy, so he needed to memorize landscape traits - they should be coming across civilization by now. The only thing was that he noticed that east...there was alot of cloud cover. More of that mysterious pure rain... Evan said he was going to look over a hill for a moment, get an idea on what's coming up. He did so...carefully...once again using his Brotherhood-issue laser rifle. He peeked over the edge and saw...what in the...hell? They...they looked like they were people, but they were all walking around awkwardly, flailing around here and there, and their faces- Those were not faces. They were ridiculous fakes, with glowing bits where the eyes and mouths opened up. Evan slid back down and turned on the radio.

-News time, children! Well, we all wondered what was up with all the rain, but nobody thought of this: According to reports, there's people just poppin' out of the ground and walkin' like they're drunk or something. Don't be fooled by this. A man in Andale put down one of these suckers and it turns out they're radioactive plants straddling a human corpse, some kind of new mutation. As we live and breathe, another weird factor of the world we live in. This is Threeeee Dog of GNR. And now, something to put us all in a better mood... [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LlcP6Q-siJQ]-​

Evan: Shit. There's a bunch of those over the next hill. And if you would like my opinion...I think we'd better just drive around 'em. We waste enough ammo on raiders as is.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Frank, you silly person you! You know very well where the giant robot is going. Look at how it perfectly lines up with the area you know so well. That machine's off to Bethesda, where the so-called Doc and his monstrous lackeys all are. Seems the Enclave - the only likely owners of the thing - had finally gotten wind of where that boy was hiding and their enforcer was out for blood. Well, that'd nip a few things in the bud. Might wanna find out what it's going to do AFTER that, but for now at least it seems like everything comes up aces. No need to trouble the army ghoul over stuff right now or engage in the Frank Rose curse of vehicular devastation.

Meanwhile, on that very same breath, the BoS guy that went to retrieve the tapes was looking over Bob's rampage into the labs and feeling a little ill. He'd been one of the lucky ones that time. How so? Well, he was one of the guys who simply got bashed in the face with a door when a naked FalloutBob ran through the area. Anyway, he was satisfied that a full record had survived of the lab incident and packed it up for Danielle to review. On his way out, he was also give several other records to the Elder. Apparently, she was trying to figure out the Enclave's big plan.

Of course you know, if Marlon and Danielle started getting it on, this Brotherhood agent was going to walk in on that.

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PUPPIES! Several dog snouts immediately went for Oli's outstretched hands and began sniffing the hell out of them. Satisfied that she wasn't a raider, dangerous mutant, evil bastard, monster, mutated animal, crazy robot, or Gary...they began vying for her affection/attention...with exactly one of them giving a playful nip on the thumb.

Wadsworth: Jenkins, no! [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3DlN4Sh06po&feature=player_detailpage#t=136s]

That's strange. Did Tim Curry just walk in? Ohhh...the Handy. The Handy with all the firepower and sandwiches. Seems a fair deal of restoration was going on, and some Brotherhood guys were working on more Eyebots, apparently. Just then, there would be the sound of that Anger Eyebot on the chain growling again, followed by the sound of Rick the Adventure Eyebot going "Mordicai! You made it! Top notch!" Larry Hatchet was now in town. Deputy Weld looked at him and then Rick, then asked...

Deputy Weld: Keep that Eyebot under control here, partner.

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While Doctor Bastion was testing Abe's blood, Abe was going on and on about this and that - something about basting giant turkeys - when he started to mention the tubes. Yes, the tubes! He grew things in them, he treated his experiments in them, he did fabulous-wonderful things with his incredible Gene Machine, that large and dangerous-looking generator off to one side of things. Abe seemed to be looking over the tubes while Crawver appeared to be...catatonic at the revelation of seeing Crawver Senior? Not sure, really. Finally, though...

Doc: Yes, you may have use of a tube! Throw this man into a tube! I want to warp his DNA and see what comes out!

Some super mutants made a beeline for Abe now. This was either going to be horrifying or drop-dead hilarious.

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Lucy's room was indeed unmonitered, but apparently someone had been watching her, someone bold enough to descend into her room...and comically get snagged by an anti-material rifle getting caught in the ductwork. Hilarious. That girl from the hallway, the one that had eluded the Heavy Trooper and his Replicants...was quite skilled, but ultimately still a frail teenaged girl. Heh. He was glad to have come in here to see for himself, red eyes glowing in the darkness...though always out of her sight by the time she looked around. How had they done it, hmm? Created such a soldier in such a little girl? He wondered...if she would be foolish enough to come back in here to the vents...while Lucy Black headed down to bail out her friend from #411. Well, that was for later. For now, he had to find the other thing lurking arounf in here...and maybe he'd wander over to where they were working over Barry...

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For the record, Johnny Truant didn't get any sort of view, trying to look up Natsuki's pre-war black jeans. She was an army girl, so she dressed for sense. By the way, was the Scottish Ghoul wearing a nice suit and drinking a dry martini? Thought so. Now, some serious damage had been inflicted on their plant monster, and oddly the sending in of this half-naked git had been the right answer...due to his actually making a plant sick with his huge assortment of drugs and alcohol. Rather impressive, even though it had clearly been an act of desperation on his part. Nevertheless, it made things very clear to Natsuki: The mouth was its main weakpoint. So saying, only William could perceive that she was unhooking he flamethrower with her vectors...and then using them to shove the entire unit into the now-lopsided mouth of their aggressor. It was a good thing too, because...

Natsuki: FIRE IN THE HOLE!!

...she ripped open the fuel tanks of her flame unit with a vector and it immediately caught fire and FWOOOOM!!! The plant creature's head burst open with the flames and burn juice went all over its main body, causing it all to blaze and die off. She looked at the others now, smirking.

Natsuki: Nice work, guys. Hey, you a recruit or something?

That question was addressed to Johnny Truant.

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After having it out with her mother, the guards dragged her off and took up an escort pattern to ferry her off to wherever the hell it was they were planning to go. Actually, they forgot what their initial orders were, so they were just trying to figure that out while walking around.

#53: Maybe processing? Or just an interrogation room?

#47: Let's just foist her onto someone else and call it a day. I'm hungry.

That was when there was a SHUDDER-SHUDDER-SHUDDER as something passed through a nearby vent really fast.

#47: Yeesh... There it goes again.

#53: I thought Natsuki was looking after it.

#47: Thing gets loose every now and again. Can you believe it's actually a Deathclaw?

#53: I don't buy it. I think it's some kind of trick to see if we're gullible or not.

Just then, they were about to pass the medical wing with isolation rooms when...one of them opened up and from within we hear...


...as out steps a man. He is a tall and strong-man. Half the BoS and Frank Rose would recognize him now, for once again Roberto Malcontente' The Third (FalloutBob) was buck naked, and singing opera. Why? We may never know, but he appeared to be all better now. The two guards, however, were scarred for life.

#53: Jesus, Bob! Do you have too?!

FalloutBob: Eh?

#47: THE NAKED! WHY THE NAKED?!

FalloutBob: Oh that. If I'd had clothes on while in isolation, I might've messed 'em up while going cold turkey. Speaking of, get someone to clean up in there. I'm off to go claim my suit.

He turned and strode off to wherever they were storing it, effectively mooning the three of them now.

 

[wilcoblackflame]

Marlon smirked. "Y'know, all told you're probably right and believe you me it's damn tempting but after that little spiel you just rolled out I gotta wonder whose doing the most thinking about it."

"What this baby is really about is wanting for the longest time to find an easier way to kill tinsuit bastards. Enclave, Outcasts, Brotherhood back out west, don't fucking matter to me. There's reason to put the lot of 'em down. Just didn't have access to the parts I needed to put this sucker together proper til now." He smiled darkly as he slung the weapon over his back and leaned against the workbench. "Let's see how smug they are with suits full of plasma."

He frowned a moment, as if something else had occurred to him. "Tell you what.." he picked up the plans for the Swordfish from the workbench and rolled them up. "I'm gonna do something my sister would never've done. Here, the brotherhood can have the schematics for the gun. No charge. Not like I could sell it to the public anyway. Raiders get hold of it and it'd be a fuckin' disaster. Designed this thing to punch through power armor. I'd rather not see what raiders'd do to regular joes with it. Hell, no point putting much price on it for the brotherhood either when there's still the matter of winning this damn thing. So the way I figure, might as well let the brotherhood put together at least a few of 'em. Gauss ain't exactly the easiest material to get enough of, but I figure it can't hurt." He shrugged.