Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open
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		<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Non-Adult Sandbox =&gt; Non-Adult Roleplays =&gt; Topic started by: Meeka on November 08, 2011, 10:39:47 am</h2>
		<dl id="posts">
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Meeka</strong> on <strong>November 08, 2011, 10:39:47 am</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				(OOC Topic http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=123749.0 (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=123749.0) Please go here for OOC discussion and roleplay interest.)<br><br>This first post will contain details for the OOC thread and submitted character bios.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Meeka</strong> on <strong>November 08, 2011, 11:48:32 am</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The town of Girderhaven lies several miles outside of the ruined capitol of Nevada, Carson City, on the shores of what once was Lake Tahoe. The water is brown and murky, the once vibrant lake destroyed as much of the world was destroyed, but even in it's ruined state it did support a small amount of life. Stubborn, twisted trees and scrub grasses and weeds. They seemed almost vibrant when compared with the vast nuclear wasteland that could no longer support life. Girderhaven itself was a cozy town with a population numbering around 75 and a healthy farming system and a small trading market. An armed guard stands watch at the gate, a worn hunting rifle slung on his back and a lightweight suit of leather armor to protect his body, covered by a heavy coat to keep the dust at bay. Most visitors are traders or travelers, bringing in various stocks of items to exchange for Girderhaven's excess food and leather commodities. Some stop to rest during their journey to the west coast or the far eastern shores, and to that end the town maintains several rooms that may be rented for a fee, and the passer-throughs also support some of the town's small luxuries, such as the local bar and restaurants.<br><br>McCready's Bar is where most travelers end up when they visit the town. It's not the nicest place, in fact it's dirty, run down, and attracts the worst kind of people. But the booze is good, not too watered down, the chairs hold together for the most part, and it's also the location of the town's bounty board, where the adventurous sort can make a little cash doing odd jobs requested inhabitants of the town. The bar is dimly lit and stuffy, tables with chairs are scattered about the main room for patrons to sit in, and a large wooden bar is set in the corner with bar stools placed at intervals down it's length. McCready himselfis tending the bar, busily serving drinks, wiping out glasses and shouting at waitress and patron alike. Various people of all different kinds populate the bar. Some drink quietly in solitude, others gather around maps and papers, planning their trip over their drinks, various others shout and stumble around drunkenly, making fools of themselves with drunken slurs and rude comments.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Capone</strong> on <strong>November 09, 2011, 07:07:19 am</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"We're almost there, boy...we're almost there..."<br><br>Gladstone breathed heavily, sweat dripping down his scruffy chin, his mouth dry like cotton. The hood of his jacket was pulled over his head, a pair of tinted goggles over his eyes. In one hand he held an AA12 automatic shotgun, a worn out and rather empty duffel bag strung over his shoulder. In his other hand a leash attached to a dead dog. He limped forward, the hot sun beating against his back. He was hot in all those clothes, a kevlar vest against his chest and a pair of paramilitary pants covering his legs, tucked into his combat boots. Most would say he was stupid for wearing such a thing in the desert, but he knew what harm the sun could do. He knew it was better this way.<br><br>Damn was he thirsty, though.<br><br>"We're almost there, Grendal," he said, tugging harder on the leash. The dog's corpse struck a rock. "See? That place...settlement...in the distance." His hand waved in the air. His vision was blurring. Or was that the heat of the desert, causing everything to ripple? Or perhaps that was just hunger and thirst.<br><br>He walked atop a hill, surveying the land. Anyone in the town would be able to see him from there. At most he was a quarter mile away, more likely a fifth. He dropped the duffel bag and gripped his AA12 by the stalk, wanting to let whoever was there know he wasn't an invader.<br><br>"He-" he began to shout, but his dry thirst constricted his throat, causing him to cough and hack. "Hey!" He shouted, louder this time. "Hey! I just want to tra...I just want to tra...to..."<br><br>He fell over, unconscious.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>yobo</strong> on <strong>November 09, 2011, 11:36:14 am</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				(http://t2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQFqMN9-Iu5r3tLvCZWNTAhZpAd7A8iXL1okdYCR2sELQW1EJ8b8pPdo39T)<br><br>Carter was sitting in a corner of McCready's Bar. His story was typical, all his life he had wanted adventure, and when he was 18 years he left the farming community he had grown up in. Even though the work had made him strong, and he had the necessary survival skills for life in the wastelands, he had been naive. But after almost ten years wandering the wastelands, the naivity had been erased. He had learned not to trust people the hard way.<br><br>His weapon of choice was a semi-automatic rifle. He also carried a pistol he had taken from a person who had succumbed to the desert. He didn't have much ammunition for it, so he was considering selling it. For close combat, he had a Bowie knife and brass knuckles.<br><br>Carter usually stayed away from places like McCready's, but he now he was looking to make some money. And when you needed money, McCready's was the place to go.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kingmaster1</strong> on <strong>November 15, 2011, 01:01:21 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marcus was walking threw the streets of Girderhaven and looking to turn in a bounty he had just caught, he's a mercenary, a massive, muscular man with a long trench coat and a metal strapped chest plate, he kept his hair short to make sure the heat didn't hinder him. His trench coat had blood stains all over it, when he killed, he killed messy. a gun for hire who will take down anyone for the right price. he was well known as one of the best, people call him "the collector" he would always take the most valuable thing his bounty owned, his most resent was a well working sawn-off shotgun, he didn't like selling these weapons, they where his trophies, but he didn't get the money he was looking for with that last bounty. Marcus sold all the weapons he had on him, except the massive broadsword he kept strapped to his back. He never let's that out of his sight.<br><br><br>Marcus started heading out of town when he saw a man collapsed on the ground, he was barely alive but he was breathing. Marcus tried to wake him, but no such luck. "this guy needs a drink", he picked the man up and carried him into town "I only know once place that's any decent here" He took notice of the dead dog who's collar was wrapped around the unconscious man's wrist, "oh no, I hope this guy isn't crazy". He walked threw the doors of McCready's Bar and sat at a booth in the corner, Marcus ordered two bottles of the strongest drink they had and a glass of water, "I don't have much money but I can pay for this", he kept trying to wake the man up, "come on buddy, wake up, if you die I guess I just get some new boots". He pored water onto his face and waited.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>vietatoSconosciuto</strong> on <strong>November 16, 2011, 04:10:00 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				McCready's doors swing open and in walks a fairly average built man wearing a light leather Armour with A hunting rife hung over his back,&nbsp; the handle of a hand gun can be seen out of its holster on the side of his right leg and a combat knife attached to the bottom his right&nbsp; leg. Over his right shoulder to the left of his body he has a messengers bag contents unknown to many people, anyone that did is long dead.<br><br>He walks straight up to the bar in a cocky British accent says ''bring us a pint mate'', the bartender pours a pint of dirty looking beer and places it down on the the bar. The guy pays him and&nbsp; picks up the pint glass takes a swig then looks around the room for this next group of bandits he can use, because as he knows the only way to travel is with a bunch of bandits that will fight for you. His last crew where shoot down in gun fire lucky for him he stayed behind to watch over the deal they were making, when 20 other guys came out to join the party he knew they were screwed and did what anyone decent wasteland would, he ran. He walks over to where the two men were sat and sat down ''well mate your friend looks a little worst for wear, what the hell happened to him''.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kingmaster1</strong> on <strong>November 16, 2011, 06:17:42 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marcus chugged his drink and leaned back on his booth, he looked up annoyed "don't know, I found him passed out in the desert and carried him here". Marcus took note of the man's stature, and cataloged where all of his weapons where stored. "you don't seem like the kind of guy who frequents places like this" he said cockily, Marcus noticed the nice rifle the man had swung over his shoulder. "that's a nice gun you have, you wouldn't happen to have a bounty on your head would you?", Marcus was hoping he'd found a new target, he needed a new gun and that was a beauty. The strange bag the man held interested Marcus, he wanted to know what was in it, he didn't like leaving anything to chance.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>FrostShifter</strong> on <strong>November 16, 2011, 09:06:07 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				(http://i156.photobucket.com/albums/t24/Kokothewise/Steampunk/Steampunk_by_Nin_Kitty.jpg)<br><br>Julia ran through the thin grass that lined the shores of the old waterhole. She could see the tavern in the distance. She'd finally made it. A tear fell as she thought of her Doctor. He had subcumbed to the disease that had plagued their small town. When they had begun the journey to find a new home, he had not displayed any signs of the illness. He had taught her basic medicine so she could help him and she had tried her hardest when he grew weak. They had hoped to reach here before it was too late, but to no avail. With a grim shake of her head, she turned her attention to the sky.<br><br>"There you are Archimedes." She held her hand out, letting the old hawk land. <br><br>He held a blue ribbon in his beak. "Where did you find this?" She asked, though roughly as she was still jogging. <br><br>The hawk just held it out for her to take. She slid it in her pocket. She would place it, later, with the others she had collected.<br><br>"Off you go, I'll meet you at the tavern over there." The hawk gave a soft cry before flying off.<br><br>She shifted her backpack, and picked up her pace. The bar was not far now. <br><br>Once she reached the old place, she stopped running, catching her breath. As she reaached for the door, it occured to her, she had no idea what to do next. Her red-headed doctor told her it would be their first stop in the journey, but had not told her where they were heading.<br><br>She couldn't seem to move, as it all sunk in.<br><br>Finally after a few minutes of shock, she shook her head and went inside. She would sort it out after a couple of drinks. She scanned the inside, looking for a place to sit and relax. Instead she spotted a man, passed out. Even from here, she could tell it wasn't from drinking.<br><br>She walked over to the three men, demure but determined. <br><br>"Um, excuse me, but can I examine him? I'm a medic. I can help." She left out the in-training part
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kingmaster1</strong> on <strong>November 16, 2011, 09:32:53 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marcus switched attention from the small man that sat opposite him and cleared his throat, "feel free, I found him passed out in the desert and tried to wake him, but no such luck. If you think you can help it would be much obliged". Marcus wasn't used to talking with women, but he had a soft spot in his cold heart for a pretty face.&nbsp; "McCready!", he called, "fix us up a couple more glasses!", he waved what was left of his money in the air and watched the old barkeep scramble to make his next round. "I don't know what happened to him but I guessed it was dehydration, he was out cold when I found him. The dog was dead before I got there, thing must have been dead for days, crazy man must have been dragging the thing around with him". Marcus made room in the booth for the lady. "have a seat, I'm buying the next round"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>FrostShifter</strong> on <strong>November 16, 2011, 09:45:34 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Oh dear! We should wake him quickly." She leaned forward, pulling out a pin light from her pocket before opening an eyelid and shining it in his eyes.<br><br>"Thanks. If we can wake him, I'll certainly have that drink." She smiled softly.<br><br>She sat the bag down on the table and began to dig through it. "Where is it?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Capone</strong> on <strong>November 16, 2011, 09:51:30 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It felt like someone had shoved a pillow case over his head or something. There were voices, but they were all muffled. There was light, but any features surrounding him were blurred and out of focus. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. His throat felt dry, parched, raw...yet his face felt wet.<br><br>"Rain!" he shouted, suddenly sitting bolt upright. There was no rain, however. Things started to come into focus. A table, poorly shaven men, the smell of alcohol and cigars, the surrounding noise of riff raff, a cute young lady...yeah, this was a tavern. Everything just smelled of a tavern...well, except the young lady, though she could certainly use a shower. No rain, though. No such thing.<br><br>"Shucks..." he said quietly, slumping back into the bench. He had no idea why he was surrounded, but he supposed it was better than being killed and stripped down in the wasteland. One good turn deserves another, and so Gladstone reached into his pocket, fishing for some coins. He slapped all he could on the table, enough to buy drinks for everyone. "It's on me," he said huskily, his voice cracking like the dry earth. He coughed a moment, looking around. "Grendal!" he tried to call. "Grendal where are-" He spotted the leash wrapped around his hand as he lifted it up, and followed it down to...<br><br>"Oh no..." Solemnly, he leaned down and picked his deceased dog off the floor, holding it close. "Oh Grendal. I didn't even notice you left me." He sighed, a tear, the last of his hydration, slowly dripping along his cheek. "You served me well, friend. But now, now I must put you in soup to feed the orphans."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>FrostShifter</strong> on <strong>November 16, 2011, 09:59:18 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Julia grabbed what she was looking for but nearly spilt the contents of her bag on the ground when the man jerked forward, shouting at the top of his hoarse lungs. She watched with a frown as he held his deceased dog. She moved slowly, grabbing the half full glass of water from the table, and held it out to him.<br><br>"Let me take the dog." She whisphered, holding out the glass. "And drink this, but slowly, so you don't make yourself sick."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kingmaster1</strong> on <strong>November 16, 2011, 10:15:22 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marcus nearly spit his drink out when the man suddenly yelled something raspy he couldn't understand. "well would you look at that, the little fella' woke up. good job doc". Marcus watched as the man held the dead dog he had been dragging along with him, Marcus could hear himself talk but hoped no one else could, "I remember when I used to care like that"... Marcus drank what remained of his whiskey and patted the man on the back."well fella' looks like you're up and running again, good thing I found you out there. Your lucky I was the to find you too, most of the people around here would have taken what they could and left you for dead." Marcus sent a suspicious glance at the strange man still sitting with them. Marcus chuckled "well look at this little group we have here, but I have to check the board and see who I can try and bring in". Marcus walked up to the board and scanned it, when he saw his face plastered on the board with the biggest bounty he chuckled and ripped it off, "looks like another to add to my collection". He went back to the booth and chugged his third glass. "so" he asked, "where are you people headed?, personally I am going to that new town that popped up called Alutraz, should be some good targets and easy money there."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>yobo</strong> on <strong>November 17, 2011, 11:18:51 am</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Carter watched the people surrounding the nearly dead man with interest. As far as he could gather, he was a stranger to them, and still they helped him. Such a kind act was not common in the wastelands, the normal procedure would have been to take everything of value and leave him for dead. Not even wasting a bullet helping him on his way...<br><br>This interested Carter. Were they naive do-gooders seeing the good in everyone, setting themselves up as prime targets. Or were they as tough as they looked like, and if that was the case, why would they help a stranger like that?<br><br>"Intriguing" Carter thought to himself. Already curious, he moved closer to the people, close enough to listen in on their conversation.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>vietatoSconosciuto</strong> on <strong>November 17, 2011, 01:11:37 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				''well i don't really have a place in min, I'm just looking for a new....'' he thought for second on how to word it ''I'm just looking for a new job, as my last job kind of got caught up'' he looked at the people surrounding him and tried to act fine but he wasn't proud of what he had done but what else could he do<br><br>''that town you were on about that's out west right, my old boss said something about meeting a doctor here and heading that way'' he stopped and drank some beer out of the dirt caked glass ''kind of the reason i came to this town, as you can see its not my usual hang out'' he looked to the lady that stood across the table ''your a doctor right, you don't know the name Leroy Walker do you'' he picked up his drink but it was empty ''damn, who's buying the next round''<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kingmaster1</strong> on <strong>November 17, 2011, 05:32:05 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Leroy Walker?" Marcus said, "I've heard that name before...I think I was a patient of a man by that name" Marcus scanned the room one more time and watched a small-ish man move closer to&nbsp; them. Marcus was never one to trust another, he watched the man carefully and was prepared for the worst. Marcus was still a little shy of the doctor that sat with them "doc, I hate to sound negative but you don't seem like the kind to visit a town like this.", he&nbsp; hoped not to offend. Marcus turned the man opposite him "no offense frenchy but you don't seem like the kind who frequents lower class places like this" Marcus checked his wallet, "hmm, I'll cover this round" he waved his hand "set us up again McCready!" He laughed when the old man tripped on his feet trying to get the glasses together.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>vietatoSconosciuto</strong> on <strong>November 17, 2011, 06:01:56 pm</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				''Thanks for covering that mate, i lost all my money in my last job'' he paused for a moment as if to remember something ''Names Gregg, I had word to meet him in here today'' Gregg put his hand in to his bag and pulled out a piece paper ''it says clearly here to meet him on this date, guess that job fell too damn I can not catch a break these days''<br><br>''so this town your heading too is there alot of work there, could really use some cash'' Gregg picked up the freshly poured beer and drank, he then looked around the room, and his eyes met with the brutal faces surrounding them ''yeah this isn't my sort of place and i wouldn't mind getting out of here''<br><br>Gregg picked up his rifle and put it on the table, the scope gleamed in the light it was quite an old rifle but it was clean and in good condition ''My pride and joy, I'm an excellent shot and a good scout too so i can handle myself i just don't like to face trouble face on you know'' Gregg put his rifle back behind his back ''what do you say, travel out west see what work we can get''<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kingmaster1</strong> on <strong>November 17, 2011, 06:56:01 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"well from what I've been told" Marcus said lazily "the job market is really good there. Since the place is new every new store is hiring." Marcus looked at all the people sat around him... "and lots of people mean lots of criminals" Marcus grabbed the handle of his broadsword, but pulled his hand away in pain. "and lots of criminals means lots of money for me", Marcus considered traveling with him. "I'm not used to traveling with anyone, but if you think you could handle the way I go your welcome to tag along...the same goes for all of you" Marcus looked at the man who'd moved towards them "that includes you too, and don't bother trying to eavesdrop sir" Marcus smiled cockily and motioned for him to join them. "all are welcome to this little managery of people we have here" Marcus laughed loudly, "HAHAHA, ah I think all these drinks are staring to get a hold" He took a big sip of his drink.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>FrostShifter</strong> on <strong>November 18, 2011, 03:59:38 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She dropped the glass in her hand when he mentioned her Doctor. All thoughts of the ill man in front of her forgotten. <br>"Leroy Walker..." she whispered. <br>She could picture his red hair, barely any grey showing despite his age. The gap in his teeth when he smiled...<br>She felt the sting of tears, enough that it pulled her back long enough to stop them. She took a deep breath and turned towards the other men. <br>"I knew Dr. Walker." She ran a hand threw her hair and sighed. "He fell ill on the trip here."<br>She toyed with the saline filled needle, uncertainty swirling in her stomache.<br>"I'm afraid he didn't tell me where we were headed." She looked up at them through her lashes. "And I've become a wanderer, with no place to go."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kingmaster1</strong> on <strong>November 18, 2011, 06:15:17 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"well doc, It would be incredibly valuable for a doctor to accompany us. I would be honored if you would come with" Marcus was very determined to have her come with, he new better than anyone how much a doctor could help, and having a girl around could help too. The more he thought about it the more Marcus was wanting people to join him. Being alone for so long made him very cold and distant to the outside world, "It would be nice to start traveling with other people, haven't done that for a while." Marcus said mostly drunk.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>vietatoSconosciuto</strong> on <strong>November 18, 2011, 08:43:31 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Gregg looked the the scrap of dirty paper in hes hand, then looked up at the the red haired lady across the table ''did he give you anything like a package or something, seemed very important what he wanted us to to take west'' Gregg then looked at the lady once more and then it hit him Leroy dint want a package to be taken west this lady who was what was to be taken.&nbsp; <br><br>he looked over the table at the the red haired women, the way see treated that man Gregg knew she had some training at least so Leroy must have trained her. ''well i guess it Can not hurt to travel with a doctor and maybe along the way we can work out what Leroy's plan was''.&nbsp; <br><br>he put the scrap of paper back in to his bag, he now had a way to travel west safely and knew there was a lot of money to be made out west, he let out a smile and finished his drink ''well what a group we have here'' Gregg looked around the table at the few other people sitting around him then he looked at the ill man sitting across from him and the man behind him who was now standing quite close ''will you both join us going west, should be quite a fun journey''.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kingmaster1</strong> on <strong>November 18, 2011, 09:22:06 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marcus was really getting drunk now, his speech slurred slightly, "hehe, welll I hope sssomone here hasss a meansss of transport, cause all I have is walking hehehe" his vision was getting blurry and he scanned the room. "wait a minute..." Marcus looked at a lone man sitting at the bar, "I think I know that guy..." Marcus rubbed his head in thought and then immediately sobered up. A smirk came across his face, "I know him! that's an old target..." Marcus finally put a name to the face. "red!". the man turned his head and started scrambling for a weapon. It was too late Marcus was out of his seat and running towards the man, Marcus tackled him down and started raining blows on his head, "you will gain me a pretty penny red" he said between blows. Marcus tied red up and pulled a sheet of folded paper out of his pocket, "lets see....dead or alive?". Red was still struggling but he knew what was in store for him. "oh, red looks like there's more money in it for me if your dead. Tough luck pal" Marcus bent Red over a table and pulled his broadsword off his back, "well Red..." Marcus said hoisting the blade in the air, "It was fun working with you". He brought the sword down into the center of his head, leaving it on but split in half. "nice hat" He picked it up and placed it on his head. Marcus returned to his seat and had another drink, "so...where were we?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>vietatoSconosciuto</strong> on <strong>November 18, 2011, 10:51:13 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Gregg looked in amazement ''well that was something'' he knew at that moment that he would have safe passing through the harsh wasteland to the west, he just hoped his name would not turn up a bounty. <br><br>he yawned once more ''well that's enough excitement for one night'' he then looked to a young women in the corner of the bar, she wasn't to bad on the eyes for a lady in this town ''meet back here tomorrow, i think i can find somewhere to sleep for the night''<br><br>Gregg stood up and walked around the dead guy on the bar and up to the young lady, after a few more drinks Gregg walked out of the bar with his arm round the young lady ''Tomorrow my friends'' he yelled back to the people still around the table in a drunken slur as he almost fell out of the door.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kingmaster1</strong> on <strong>November 18, 2011, 11:27:09 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marcus laughed at the quick work, "haha, looks like frenchy is quite the lady killer" he poured down his last drink and stood, "well, I need to turn it in too" he looked once at what remained of Red and then turned his attention towards the blonde waitress that had served them the night. "Hope I didn't make too much of a mess for you darling", "not at all sir" she said nervously, "in fact I love seeing a strong man do his business" Marcus was ready to sweep her off her feet but then he remembered he had no money and no place to sleep, "well, I'd invite you back to my place but I just remembered I have no place" she was quick to answer "well sir we have a room upstairs that we rent to good customers, and seeing as you bought more drinks in here than anyone I think we can give you a free night" she winked, "I'll show you up there". "well fellas I got my hands full for the night, hope to see you all here in the morning" the waitress suddenly pipped up, "if your friends need rooms we would be happy to oblige sugar" Marcus waved his new hat in the air. "haha there we go! I guess I will see you all in the morning!" He walked off with the waitress under his arm.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Capone</strong> on <strong>November 19, 2011, 08:34:04 am</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Gladstone listened to the proceedings carefully, his fingers idly scratching at his dead dog's fur. He was starting to smell its decaying stench. He would need to get rid of it, though in truth he didn't want to allow his trusted companion to become food. Meat was scarce these days, sure, but...this was his friend.<br><br>When the two men had left he turned to the doctor, smiling. "If you cannot afford a room, I have a tent you can use. I'll sleep under the stars and you can take it easy in my tent." He grabbed his glass, swallowing the last of the foamy beverage within. "I'm not sure what to think of either of those men. In particular what that mercenary was thinkin'. You chop the man's head off so people can recognize it, so you can take just a head to get your money rather than an entire corpse. Now...that body is useless. No one will take it in that condition. He just screwed himself over."<br><br>He shrugged, smiling at the young doctor. "Still, traveling in a group is much more safe than traveling solo." He stood up, leaving the last of his coppers on the table as tip, before carrying his dog outside. There was a corner of the town that was relatively unused. Just a bunch of dead land, a few lepers around. No one came here for fear of disease, but Gladstone was pretty certain it wasn't contagious. Not from person to person, at least. These folks were either born with it, or they weren't careful around some radiation leak. He shrugged, pulling his pack from his back. He had a single bedroll as well as his tent, and a trencher strapped to the side of the pack. He set the tent up first, in case that young woman needed a place to rest, and then began to dig. It was the least that he owed his good pal for sticking with him to the end.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>FrostShifter</strong> on <strong>November 20, 2011, 12:19:01 am</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Sure, I guess I can travel with you, but realize I'm still learning my trade." She told the British man. "And I was not told of any package, nor did I find anything among his things." She watched as he wandered off with the woman, clearly done for the night. <br><br>She started slightly as she watched other complete a bounty, almost at random. She was a little squeamish about the whole thing, mostly because it went against her nature as a healer. But she understood that it was a way of life. Hunt or be hunted. During times like these, you did what needed to be done to live. She looked away, brow furrowed. She nodded to him as he said goodnight.<br><br><br><br>She turned her attention to the ill man she still held the syringe for. <br><br>"Thank you. I do like it a little better outside than in here." She motioned towards where the killing had taken place. <br><br>"Yes, I supposed I would be better in a group. The only reason I survived at one point was because I managed to outrun the men. If they had grabbed me..." She shuddered at the thought.<br><br>She followed him outside, watching him as he dug the hole. She looked at the needle in her hand and remembered why she had it out in the first place. <br><br>"I'm Julia, by the way." She realized they had yet to exchange names. "I was wondering if you can hold still so I can give you this saline shot." <br><br>She moved towards him. "It'll help with the dehydration, make sure you don't faint again." <br><br>Before she got an answer, she heard a soft caw and looked up, spotting Archimedes. <br><br>"Oh, I'm sorry Archie, I was tending to this man." He chirped at her as he settled on her shoulder. <br><br>He peck softly at her ear. "I hate when you do that."<br><br>She looked back over to the man still digging. "I'm going to leave this here for you if you decide you want the shot, and..." she grabbed a bottle from inside her bag. "Some water to drink. Now I'll be back shortly. Archimedes only pecks my ear when someone is sick or injured nearby. I'm going to tend them."<br><br>Archimedes lead the way just a few blocks off, where a leper lay. "Hello." she knelt down, setting her bag on the ground. "What seems to be the issue?"<br><br>The leper held out his arm where she spotted a large gash, seeping slowly. "Well let me see here, I left the water but I may have a little alcohol here to wash it out with."<br><br>She fished in her bag, finding a small vial on rubbing alcohol. She cleaned the wound, sutured it and wrapped a clothe around it. <br><br>"Now be careful so you don't pull those." She stood up, smiling softly.<br><br>The mute leper nodded his head, and they waved goodbye. She headed back to the campsite, weary from the day.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>yobo</strong> on <strong>November 20, 2011, 02:36:28 am</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Carter had withdrawn back to his corner. These were no easy targets, that much was for sure. And for the travelling destination they had in mind, he had already been there. In fact, that was where he got a price on his head.<br><br>"Better let this one go" Carter thought to himself, taking a sip of his drink.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kingmaster1</strong> on <strong>November 20, 2011, 11:25:55 am</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marcus woke up and whipped the sleep from his eyes, "time to head out"...he got up and started putting his armor back on. "thanks for the night hon" He said with a chuckle, He got no answer. Marcus just shrugged it off and thought she was asleep, "well, darling I gotta head out, take care of yourself." Again no answer, "better let her sleep". Marcus could here loud voices from downstairs, but could only make out a few words "where is that mercenary bastard!!". Marcus put his metal plate on and started walking downstairs. He saw a man pointing a gun at McCready "where is he old man!!" He cocked his rifle. Marcus recognized them as part of Red's gang. "that's a nice gun you have there" Marcus said lamely. He saw that the original man was followed by three more, all holding nice guns: a rifle, a sawn-off, two 45.'s, and a pair of hunting knives. "I could use those in my collection." The man backed up and tried to hide his fear "we....we...we came to kill you!" He spoke in a stutter. Marcus&nbsp; walked over to him, "Have fun with that little man". Marcus moved his hand up and grabbed the handle of his broadsword, and quickly brought it down on the man's head.<br><br>He stood over the dead body and looked at the other three, "who's next?" two of them starting to move towards the door. "we don't have a problem with you man.." one managed to spit out. "that's a shame...but oh well" Marcus ran at them and took one of their arms off, He dodged the others bullets like child's play, he made a sweeping blow at the next and stood while the top half of his body fell to ground. The last one ran to the door, but he didn't get the door half open when Marcus's broadsword stabbed through his chest. "sorry boy, but when one threatens me you&nbsp; all threaten me" Marcus heard gasping from the floor, "oh did you not die yet?" Marcus stood above the armless goon "more...more of us...more of us" Marcus took his sawn-off, "more of you?, well if the rest are as easy as you I won't have a problem" Marcus took what he wanted off of them and started making his way out, "thank you!" McCready said. "no problem old man, hope I didn't make too much of a mess!" Marcus left with a smile. "well" he thought to himself, "I should find my comrades" Marcus started walking threw the mostly abandoned streets "Frenchy!" he called, "doc?", "dead dog guy?" "it would've helped to know their names.<br><br>Marcus came to a tent he saw set up in a leper infested area, he recognized the man, he tried to nudge him awake "hey buddy, don't tell me you passed out again" , Marcus sat next to the what left of the fire and waited for them to wake up.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>vietatoSconosciuto</strong> on <strong>November 20, 2011, 09:53:13 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Gregg awoke to a banging at the door and a man shouting ''hey babe I'm home, open the door'' Gregg rolled over and looked at the lady laying next to him, ''Hey babe his home'' the lady looked at Gregg ''its not funny'' then shouted to the man outside ''one moment, be right there''. Turning back to Gregg ''you have to go'' Gregg moved close to her and in a playful manner ''do i have to, its still early''. the voice bellowed from behind the door ''is someone in there with you, open the door'' Gregg got up out of bed and pick up his cloths then proceed to get dressed, the lady across the bed followed and the voice came once more ''open the door'' Gregg looked at the lady and smile ''no don't'' she said quietly but Gregg ignored her, fully dressed just putting his gear on he shouted back to the man ''well yes there darling im here'' the let out a smile while picking up his bag and rifle. the man behind the door shouted ''OPEN THIS GOD DAMN DOOR SO I CAN KILL HIM'' he then started to bash himself against the door, the lady looked at him from across the bed shouldn't of done that, quick out the window'' Gregg looked at her and started to smile ''i think i can take hi........'' the sound of a shotgun cocking stopped him, ''so you said something about the window'' Gregg picked up the last of his gear and started to head for the window when the door came crashing down ''HEY THERE PRETTY BOY, WANT TO DIE'', Gregg leapt for the window and just managed to escape before the man fired his gun almost blowing the window clean off. <br><br>Gregg landed of a ledge bellow and climbed down to the floor looking back up he could see the man hanging his head out ''THATS IT PRETTY BOY RUN'', Gregg smiled and walked down the road some until he was in front of a store across the road form the bar he was in last night. As he went to enter the shop a man came running out of the bar and Gregg could see the crazy guy from last night surrounded by a few guys, ''Not my problem'' he said to himself then walked up to the store in front of him. The door creaked open and a creaky voice came from behind a counter ''Welcome can i help you'', Gregg looked at the old man behind the counter ''yeah ive got this gun and no ammo hoping i could trade it for something'' Gregg pulled his hand gun out and put it on the table, the old man picked it up ''I think i have just the thing out back'' the old man walked to the back of the store and after some time retuned with a wooden crate. Gregg looked at the crate in surprise it looked new and unopened ''whats in that'' the old man said nothing and reached down for a crowbar. The old man started to pry the lid off and it fell to the floor, he then pulled out a box and placed it on the counter followed by a bigger box. Gregg picked up the first box a read the label ''25 Crossbow bolts'' he then picked up the bigger box and read it ''crossbow'' the old man pulled out two box's, one was a sight and the other a box of bolts. ''gun for the crossbow and a box of bolts only'' the old man said to Gregg, Gregg looked down at the boxs ''what about the rest'', The old man looked at him ''you have more to trade''. Gregg reached in to his bag and pulled out some canned food and a bottle of water and placed it on the counter ''Thats all ive got mate''. the old man looked at the stuff on the table ''not enough, need more'' Gregg looked at him ''look mate no one wants to buy a sight with out the crossbow, this is all your getting''. The old man looked at him and sighed ''ok, fairs fair i guess'' then picked up the gun, water and canned food then walked out back, Gregg picked up all the boxes and placed the bolts in to his bag keeping some out, then opened the crossbow putting the sight on and loading the bolts to the back of the crossbow for safe keeping ''Thanks mate''. <br><br>Gregg walked towards the door and opened it with a creek looking back over to the bar he could see some staff cleaning up dead bodies, he smiled and looked down the road catching sight of the crazy guy from last night ''Crazy bastard''. Gregg followed after him as he went round a corner Gregg stopped and thought for a moment, ''why the hell is he going in to that zone everyone knows its infected'' talking out loud to no one, he quickly followed after to see where he was going. Gregg stopped at the corner and peeked round he could see the crazy guy sitting next to a burnt out fire, a pitched tent and the ill guy lying on the floor. Gregg walked round the corner ''Is he passed out again and where's that doctor lady kind of hurt my leg this morning jumping from a window''<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kingmaster1</strong> on <strong>November 20, 2011, 10:29:15 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marcus looked up, "oh hey Frenchy, I think he's just asleep. The doc is in the tent though" Marcus noticed how messy his clothes where as opposed to last night, and noticed the crossbow he was carrying, "so, long night?" he said smirking. "You look like you had some fun, you left with a pretty hot girl. wouldn't suspect you to be such a ladies man." He leaned back against the tent and fell back as one of the stakes came out, he got to his feet in time for the rest of it to go down and outline a curvy body. "...oh crap." Marcus said "I think the tent just fell on the doc", Marcus laughed hard. "HAHA, my bad doc!" He watched as her shape fumbled around in the fallen cloth.&nbsp; Marcus' eye moved back down to the crossbow, "hey, that's a fancy bow you got there, can't imagine who would have something like that in a place like this."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>vietatoSconosciuto</strong> on <strong>November 20, 2011, 10:39:18 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				''I think its the accent, they seem to like a british accent'' Gregg looked down to his new crossbow ''yeah the guy who sold me this was about as crazy as you, what the hell happend in the bar earlier'', he watched as the crazy guy feel over knocking the tent down and let out a smile ''Guess the docs up'' he moved&nbsp; towards the tent to try and help the doc out when he noticed a bird perched near the tent ''hey some theres a crazy looking bird over there''.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kingmaster1</strong> on <strong>November 20, 2011, 10:59:08 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"some thugs tried to kill me, left them in pieces, HAHA!" Marcus said. Marcus turned to the bird, "hmm, that's an hawk." He moved towards it "easy boy...easy" Marcus tried to grab the ribbon in it's mouth but it bit him "OW, damn...is this someone's pet?" He moved away and faced the British man, "come to think of it none of us have been properly introduced" Marcus reached his hand out "I'm Marcus, what's are your names?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>vietatoSconosciuto</strong> on <strong>November 20, 2011, 11:14:23 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Gregg returned the shake ''Well Marcus you crazy bastard the names Gregg, two G's not one'', he looked down at the ill man ''well his a deep sleeper, wheres his dead dog''. Gregg looked for somewhere to sleep and soon realised he was hungry so pulled out a tin of beans out of his bag ''Hey Marcus you hungry mate, found a stash of beans on my last job got about three tins left if you want some'' Gregg reached in to his bag and pulled out a tin of beans holding them out towards Marcus.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kingmaster1</strong> on <strong>November 21, 2011, 04:59:31 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"sure thing man, fighting can give me quite an appettite" Marcus looked around and saw a pan on the floor, "here we go, I'll get the fire back up so we can eat a hot breakfast" Marcus pulled a lighter out of his pocket and got the fire going again. "here we go" Marcus pored the beans into the pan and started roasting them, "mmm this is gonna be good, I haven't had a decent breakfast for months!" He grabbed some spoons from out of the fallen tent and started eating, "thanks Gregg, this is pretty good" Marcus nudge their sleeping friend again. "he really is a deep sleeper haha"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>FrostShifter</strong> on <strong>November 29, 2011, 07:58:12 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Julia woke up, startled by the noise outside. She didn't get a chance to come to her senses as the tent came down on them. In a huff and a flourish, she made her way out of the tarp that created the tent.<br><br>"Dammit! What the hell is going on?" She couldn't help she was grumpy when she woke up. <br><br>At that moment she was thankful she had decided to sleep in her clothes. She spotted the two men she had met the night before standing near the came, talking. Archie landed on her shoulder, trying to hand her the ribbon.<br><br>"Hold on to it." She whispered as she turned around to drag her things out of the tent.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kingmaster1</strong> on <strong>November 29, 2011, 08:27:36 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"oh, so that's your hawk doc?" Marcus said watching the young doctor gathering her things "I tried to grab the ribbon, but the damn thing bit me" He said folding his arms. "but I suppose since it's yours I can't get a free dinner off of it" Marcus lifted the tent up so she had better access to her things "sorry about the tent doc, me and Gregg here were messing around and I fell against it" Marcus looked at the pan of beans "that reminds me, want breakfast? there's a good amount left" He said smiling.<br><br>Marcus watched as the young doctor frantically gathered her things while the hawk watched from it's perch "that's a mighty fine bird you have there, never seen a live one before"&nbsp; He looked over the area and took notice of everything. "barring the lepers surrounding the place we are pretty much fine" he thought. He looked at his arms and noticed blood coming off his shoulder, he moved his shirt down and saw a bullet hole in his back "hmm, hey doc seems I got a wound from my fight earlier. mind patching it up?" he sat down at a log next to the fire "the bullets still in there" He pulled out a hunting knife "so you may have to dig it out"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>FrostShifter</strong> on <strong>November 29, 2011, 11:08:31 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Yeah, that's Archimedes. He's my companion, plus he brings me ribbons for my colletion." She sat her bag down near the fire. She took the ribbion from Archie and placed it in one of the many compartments on the bag. <br><br>"Lepers aren't going to bother you." She dug through her back, looking through her medical supplies. "I've got my own supplies so I don't need to use yoour knife."<br><br>She pulled out a needle, scapel, stitching supplies, and an item that looked like a pair of tongs. She got behind him and began by using the needle full of numbing liquid to lessen the pain. She then cut the wound open just slightly larger and pushed the tongs in gently. after a few failed attempts she manage to grasp the bullet and pull it out. she set the tongs aside, and sutured the hole close.<br><br>"Try not to overstrech your arm so you don't pull the stiches out." She took an old rag and cleaned her supplies. "And I'll want to keep an eye on it, make sure it doesn't get infected. You have any liquor on you? I should pour a little on the wound."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kingmaster1</strong> on <strong>November 30, 2011, 08:05:52 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marcus sat feeling the bullet get removed, "thanks doc" Marcus reached into his bag "yeah I got a bottle from the bar" He poured it down his back "hopefully that will do".<br>Marcus put his shirt and armor back on, "that feels better, shortest time I've ever gone without a bullet in me after a fight" Marcus laughed.<br>If we want to make much progress we better move on, "oi Gregg! we better get moving!" Marcus kicked his friend still sleeping. <br>"hmm, he's been asleep threw a lot" Marcus put his hand on his throat "oh hell". "doc you better come see this, I think he's dead" <br>&nbsp;"if there's one thing I know it's how to check a pulse." Marcus said turning grim "and he ain't got one". <br>Marcus gently nudged him with his foot, "yeah, looks like he didn't last much longer than his dog"<br>Marcus removed his hat in respect, "poor boy" Marcus looked at the fresh ground "think I should bury him with his dog?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>vietatoSconosciuto</strong> on <strong>November 30, 2011, 11:24:01 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				''poor bastard'' Gregg looked at the body laying on the floor ''I didn't even catch his name''.<br>Gregg looked over to Marcus ''well i don't think he will mind if i take a look in that duffel bag of his'' Gregg reached for the duffel bag laying next to the dead body ''and see what supplies he had with him''. as he pick it up he felt how empty it was, then opening it to look in side ''damn things empty, i think he only carried that damn tent with him, no wonder his dehydrated''<br>Gregg tossed the bag back to the floor then looked at the AA12 shotgun ''well maybe I ...&nbsp; we can get something for that'' looking up he noticed the look of disgust from the others ''oh come on its not like he minds, the guys about as dead as that damn dog''<br>Gregg looked over to the doctor ''hey i think i did something to my ankle, could you take a look'' then he watched her taking the bullet out of Marcus ''Well after you pull the bullet out of crazy and looked at the dead guy, you know what love it can wait'' he then lay back and finished his beans while humming a tune.<br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kingmaster1</strong> on <strong>December 02, 2011, 09:08:03 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marcus started digging up the ground using a piece of wood he found, "I'll make it deep enough so no looters get to it" He got the grave to six feet and the sun was getting high into the afternoon. "okay that should be good enough" Marcus first put the dead dog down into the pit and then lowered the body, he climbed out and started filling in the hole. "hmm, I like those boots" Marcus thought, while no one was looking he jumped back into the hole and took the dead man's boots. "sorry fella'" he said low "but I need them more than you, Marcus got back out of the hole and filled it quickly. Marcus said a prayer for the dead man and his companion. "sorry boy, but nothing can be done"<br><br>Marcus walked solemnly back to the camp site and started putting supplies into a pack, "I feel sorry for him, but at least he's with his dog again". Marcus laid back against a log and felt the hot sun on his face, "no matter how many people you bury" Marcus said grimly, "you never get used to it"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>FrostShifter</strong> on <strong>December 02, 2011, 10:45:37 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Julia shot over to the man who had been outside her tent all night. She knew she should have checked on him before she went to sleep last night. She thought that she'd be used to the short life span most had in this wasteland. She checked his pulse, looking for somethign that didn't exsit anymore. She sat back in a huff. She would need to toughen up and toughen up soon if she was going to survive. She nodded as he asked about burying him with his dog. It seemed like the one justice in the world.<br><br>She turned to the other man in there odd party and just shook her head with a small smile as he commented on the gun. Of course she had inherited all her stuff from the Doctor. She moved over to him and motioned for him to sit. Once he did she examined it the best she could without the machine Dr. Leroy had invented back home. She was as gentle as she could be but it did hurt him as her small fingers poked his ankle.<br><br>"You just twisted it." She got up and fished out some dirty wrappings but they would work for binding. "Try not to put too much weight on that ankle for a couple days." <br><br>She finished wrapping his ankle then set to cleaning the campsite as the dead man was buried. she managed to fold the tent up and put it in her pack. She spotted the change in boots but said nothing about it as they grouped together.<br><br>"So, since I didn't properly introduce myself before, I'm Julia." She looked back and forth between the two. "Anyone have a plan?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kingmaster1</strong> on <strong>December 02, 2011, 11:37:40 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marcus lowered his hat and bowed slightly to the doctor "much obliged miss Julia, the names Marcus" He smiled at the young woman and put his hat back on. Marcus looked at the sun "well" he said "I say if we get on the road soon we can reach a livable town before nightfall" He looked both of them over "and I think that would be the best, no offense but you two don't seem to get into many fights" Marcus scratched his head "not to mention the hunters following me" He thought concerned.<br><br>"my ultimate goal is Alutraz the next "big town" that sprung up recently" Marcus wiped the sweat off his head "and if your looking for employment, or targets in my case, it's the place to be". "we should stop by the bar first, I need a drink" Marcus picked his bag up and started walking "you might as well come with" he watched as the other two followed him.<br><br>Marcus&nbsp; walked into the bar and noticed the blood still on the walls, "don't mind the mess, I met some "colleagues" here earlier". He sat at the bar and got some bottles of whiskey "a few of these and we should be set" McCready brought him six bottles. "thanks old man"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>vietatoSconosciuto</strong> on <strong>December 03, 2011, 09:04:53 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Gregg watched as Julia gently examined his ankle ''you know most doctors in the wastes are not as gentle'' he listened to what she told him ''well thanks doc but i don't know how much rest ill be getting''. he smiled and got to his feet ''feels a lot better, thanks'', Gregg helped clean up then collected his things and soon Marcus returned, wearing the dead mans shoes Greg said nothing but smiled.<br>&nbsp;<br>Gregg picked up the AA12 hoping to trade it for some supplies before they moved on, then followed Marcus ''I can fight if I need to you know mate, I just prefer sort out any problems form a distance before hand''. he then thought about Alutraz and the business he had there ''Yeh I think we had better get moving, next towns about half a day away''.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>FrostShifter</strong> on <strong>December 04, 2011, 06:46:02 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Well I have no designated place, so I can go anywhere. And I'm ready to leave when you guys are." She didn't need anything from the bar. "I'm not much of a fighter, mostly because the town I grew up in was small and very few people passed through there. Our only issue was that bad viruse a while back." She decided to stand outside with Archie while she waited for the guys to lead the way. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>vietatoSconosciuto</strong> on <strong>December 05, 2011, 10:32:03 am</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				''don't you think its kind of weird to find a doctor in the wastes that doesn't charge'' Gregg said to Marcus as they entered the bar, ''I know shes only learning but still, most doctors these days are''. <br><br>Marcus gave his order to the bar keeper then Gregg put the AA12 on the table, ''how much for the gun, bar keep'' the bar keeper smiled ''I have no use for that, my friend'', Gregg looked at the gun and knew there was no use for it on there travel ''Come on it has to be worth something''. the bar keeper looked the gun over ''i can give you a few supplies but the money stays in the till'', Gregg looked at the gun once more ''probably the best offer we will get, ok you have a deal''. the bar keeper put a few bottles of water, cans of food and some medical supplies on the bar, Gregg picked them up and put them in his bag and waited for Marcus to gather his things.<br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kingmaster1</strong> on <strong>December 05, 2011, 07:10:41 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"I think we should trust the doc" Marcus said, surprised by himself "An innocent girl like her; we have no reason to distrust her" Marcus looked out the door behind him at the young redhead we would now be traveling with, "she's cute too, huh?" Marcus nudged Gregg. Marcus got his drinks and watched Gregg make his deal, "not bad for an old shotgun like&nbsp; that, out here anything is good". Marcus downed a bottle and stood, "Let's go frenchy!" Marcus strutted his way to the exit and shot a wink towards the waitress he spent the night with.<br><br>Marcus walked out of the bar and patted the doctor on the shoulder, "let's move on out doc, we gotta move quick if we want to make it to a livable town before nightfall". Marcus swung his bag over his shoulder and started out of town, looking back to see his little group. "not a bad group we have here" Marcus grabbed the handle of his broadsword and started to run forward, "keep up you two, don't want to be left behind".
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>vietatoSconosciuto</strong> on <strong>December 05, 2011, 10:40:13 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				''well yeah not that good of a deal i sear this water is no good and the medical supplies look used'', Gregg watched Marcus as he moved forward garbing the handle of his sword and then looked to Julia ''so what the crazy guy our leader now, damn i have to stop letting this happen''. he smiled and followed behind Marcus ''Well you know where the next town is, or you just gonna walk in any random direction''
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>FrostShifter</strong> on <strong>December 12, 2011, 03:09:14 am</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"I'll have no problem keeping up." She said, keeping at Marcus' speed. "Before my doctor training, I was the town scout." <br><br>She grinned running backwards so she could speak to Gregg. "Let me know if your ankle begins to bother you. I can always see what my Doctor left inside for pain, but I know it's not much, so it has to be limited until I can get more." <br><br>She righted herself and listened as Gregg asked Marcus about the destination. Way deep down, she was a bit excited to be going on an adventure into the unknown, but above that she was nervous and honestly a little scared. But that came with change no matter how big or small. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kingmaster1</strong> on <strong>December 12, 2011, 03:26:36 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marcus laughed as his friend kept easy pace with him, "<strong>well night time isn't a very good time to travel, so we should try and reach a town before dusk</strong>" Marcus looked at the sun in the sky "it's about noon so we have a good chunk of time" Marcus stopped abruptly and reached his hand out stopping his friend too "<strong>wait</strong>" He said quietly "<strong>GET DOWN!</strong>" Marcus hit the deck and pulled the doctor down too.<br><br>&nbsp;The sound of gun fire filled the air and Marcus could see the tops of peoples heads from behind rocks, "<strong>MOVE!</strong>" Marcus pulled the doctor&nbsp; and Gregg behind a nearby boulder and let the bullets fly.&nbsp; There was a brief lull and Marcus shot at the heads "<strong>ones down!</strong>" Marcus ran to a boulder closer to them and drew his sword "<strong>try and take down two more and i'll move in</strong>" Marcus yelled to them both
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>FrostShifter</strong> on <strong>December 12, 2011, 09:33:50 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Julia sat behind the boulder, breathing heavily. "I don't have a weapon! I don't know how to use a weapon!" She tried not to panic but as the bullets pinged off the boulder. She watched as Marcus tried to move forward and Gregg laid on the ground where he had been thrown down in the dust. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>vietatoSconosciuto</strong> on <strong>December 13, 2011, 02:50:35 am</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Picking his rifle from the ground he joined the doctor behind the rock, taking a peek over the rock Gregg said arrogantly ''like shooting irradiated fish in a nuclear puddle'', then pulled his rifle to aimed at one of the heads firring off a shoot the bullet flew in to the guys head letting out a mist of blood. ''yeah headshoot'' then aimed at a second guy aimed for his chest and fired off a shoot, as the bullet hit him he clenched his chest and dropped to the ground. By now the rest of the heads turned to Gregg's direction ''Oh shit'' he then drooped behindthe rock and joined the doc ''lets hope Marcus can do his thing'', then proceeded to load his rifle.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kingmaster1</strong> on <strong>December 13, 2011, 06:24:58 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marcus watched the blood splatter and the attackers attention turn to the rock his friends were hiding behind 'Okay....NOW' Marcus thought and ran behind the cluster of rocks the gunmen hid behind. Marcus grabbed the first ones rifle from his hands and put a bullet threw his head 'one' He thought, Marcus ran to the other and dropped his sword onto the man's head splitting it in two 'two'. He saw the other three start to scramble and drop their weapons, they stumbled over each other and the rocks. "let's finish this quick" Marcus said jumping into the fumbling group, he jammed his broadsword threw one of their stomachs and twisted it, he fell to the ground dead. Marcus ran at two stood next to each other and sliced their heads off in unison, their bodies dropped and their heads rolled. Marcus put his sword down and walked towards his friends, "everyone Okay?" he asked.<br><br>Marcus watched them stand from behind the rock and dust themselves off. "wait...there were six" he counted on his fingers and heard a gunshot "GAH!" he felt the bullet drill into his back and saw the gunman start to run away. Marcus grabbed the rifle from his friend and lined up his shot "wait for it...wait for it" Marcus pulled the trigger and saw the an fall into the ground. "there we go". Blood was pouring out of Marcus' back "damn, that guy got a lucky shot" Marcus sat on the ground and took deep breaths. "doc, little help here?" Marcus waited for her, those guys were a part of Red's gang. "by the way doc, you need a gun" Marcus looked over at the pile of dead bodies "there are a good amount over there, take your pick" Marcus laughed and cringed at the pain.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>FrostShifter</strong> on <strong>December 19, 2011, 04:57:42 am</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Seems I'll be keeping busy." She said as she began to dig in her bag, looking for the supplies to take out the bullet. She worked swiftly, digging out the bullet and tossing it aside.&nbsp; Julia taped some gauze over the wound. <br><br>She looked over at the dead bodies, knowing she needed to go through them. The thought made her slightly naueous. She took a deep breath and walked over to the bodies. <br><br>"This sucks, guys." she couldn't help but say.<br><br>She grabbed a pistol, making sure to grab all the ammo she could find. She stopped short when she caught sight of a beautiful piece of metal that seemed to call to her. She walked behind a rock, disappearing from the men's sight for a few moments. She popped back out with a sniper rifle.<br><br>"Can one of you teach me how to use this one?" she asked.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kingmaster1</strong> on <strong>December 19, 2011, 01:01:56 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marcus winced slightly as the bullet was removed from him, "you better believe it doc, I get hurt pretty often"<br><br>Marcus nudged each of the bodies so they were facing up "these where part of Red's gang, and believe me there are more of them." Marcus watched the doctor search threw the bodies, "best get used to searching dead people doc, it's a part of life when you travel"<br><br>"that's a beauty of a rifle, I think I can show you how it works" Marcus cocked the rifle, lined it up, and shot a bullet into the heads of one of the dead bodies. "yeah it's a simple pump and shoot, just pull this back, aim, and fire" He handed the rifle back and started moving away. "that was fun and all but let's keep going".
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>vietatoSconosciuto</strong> on <strong>December 22, 2011, 01:04:42 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Gregg followed Marcus as he looked over the docs rifle ''Im the best sniper these wastes have ever seen, ill teach you to use that'' nudging off Marcus comment about how to use a rifle. ''well its not quite as simple as that, a rifle is a thing of beauty and&nbsp; needs to to be use in a gracious manner''' looking it over once more ''them guys where carrying some nice guns, not like the gangs i usually come across in the wastes''.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>FrostShifter</strong> on <strong>December 27, 2011, 06:13:44 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Julia strapped the gun to her back and the pistol to her leg, having taken the holsters from the dead men. <br><br>"Do you think anymore will be up ahead?" She pointed in the direction they were heading. "I mean, Should we proceed, slower and stealthier, or stick to the open, and run?" <br><br>She glanced over at gregg think about his foot. Then another idea hit her. <br><br>"I could scout on ahead. And if I use the scope on the rifle, I could spot other travelers."<br>&nbsp;
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kingmaster1</strong> on <strong>December 27, 2011, 06:52:52 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"well" Marcus said, "If I know those idiots they will watch the open road and gang up, so stealthily will be a good idea". Marcus looked over her knew equipment, "well doc, if you think you can see well enough from that thing to make a good call. You should scout" Marcus started walking again. "okay, run ahead. Me and Gregg will give you cover, if anything goes down or you see anything call me...us...me" Marcus laughed and watched the doctor run ahead.<br><br>Marcus walked with Gregg down the trail and reached into his pocket "oh good I have a few left" Marcus pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Taking a long drag, he held one up to Gregg, "you smoke?".
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>ileana</strong> on <strong>December 31, 2011, 06:22:43 am</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It was darn hot out here, nothing new, but still, it was hard getting used to. In the city in the shadow of the ruins of buildings the air had a little coolness to it. But here, there was nothing, but her little shag, a rather shaky build made from planks and pieces of metal she found in old homes, dead cars and other places people 100 years ago would not have gone even if they were forced. Nowadays it was normal, every-day life, sunshine sundays. <br><br>The hot sand flirred in the distance as she let her brown eyes wander, the fingers of her slim hand, loosely on the grip of the SG 550 rifle she stole from her last victim. It was not that she was looking (much) but trouble came her way, it always did. Blowing a strand of the brown hair out of her face she raised to her feet. Heavy looking boots digging into the sandy ground. The croaky sound of her leather jacket mixed with the soft jingle of the rifle when she strapped it on her back. Time for her round, she thought to herself, digging her feet into the sand as she walked forward, always better to have some grip. <br><br>A smirk crossed her face, as she looked down, the short skirt, a mix of leathertop and black cotton had been a nice donation from the last family inviting her into their home. She let them live, there was no reason to kill anyone, helping her. The long hair was held up with a mix of combined fabrigs, knotted so it was one long band and wrapped around the hair a few times. It looked messy, but kept the hair out of her eyes, apart from a few disobedient strangs. <br><br>The desert was quiet, it usually was. But travellers and merchants made their way through the wasteland all the time, especially since she camped between two towns, and she was curious. Staying behind the dune she squinted her eyes, spotting a little group, a woman among them, guys and.. a falcon? Shaking her head about the animal she grabbed the strap of the rifle and soved the tip into the ground leaning on the grip to bend forward, watching them. But something seemed familiar, or rather someone. <br><br>She silently laughed as she recognized him. Oh that arrogant sod, walking his head up high as if nobody could do him any harm. If he only knew that she was around, it wasn't the first time they met and both of them were still alive. That gave enough away, didn't it? Quietly she approached, taking care that they would not see her before shouldering the rifle and aiming. Not at him, that would be boring, the games they played were much more fun than to actually kill him. Last time they wandered together for weeks, but that did not mean that they did not try to have some fun during that time, how often did she wake up with the muzzle in her face or a blade at her throat, but for him it had been the same. And the verbal slugfests.. who would want to miss that just because the dead body brought some money. <br><br>Just a second later the bullet slammed down in a piece of junk, right behind that group, the sound echoing across the wasteland. She waited just a second and stood up right on the dune, the wind catching her messy hairdo and her skirt, the rifle shouldered, held with one relaxed hand. <br><br>Al waited again until the group turned to her and a smirk crossed her lips again and her amused but husky voice echoed along to the group. "If that isn't Marcus? Who would have thought that those carrion revelers would let you life that long that we meet again!" 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>ileana</strong> on <strong>December 31, 2011, 06:23:22 am</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v428/azurafae/Fashion/eden_brown_outfit_v02a_2__medium.jpg)
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kingmaster1</strong> on <strong>December 31, 2011, 10:24:56 am</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Everything had quieted down after the fight, Marcus felt himself start to relax. He puffed out the smoke from his cigarette and looked around, he saw a distinct shine from something metal near a rock. Marcus took a long drag on his smoke and kept his eyes on it, a bullet noise echoing threw the quiet air made him bite down and break his smoke in half. The voice that followed only made him tense up more. "I know that voice anywhere, Al! it's not like you to miss a shot! but it was never like you to try and hurt this beautiful face of mine".<br><br>Marcus could&nbsp; see her leaning with her rifle in hand, he grabbed his friends pistol. The shot was just enough to knock her rifle out of her hands, "not like you to drop your weapon either" he said mockingly. He could see her shuffle to pick it back up and Marcus drew his sword, "how bout you come down here and face me in some hand-to-hand? I always won those fights Al." He motioned for Gregg to take cover and he stood proudly in the road,"for old times sake, whenever you tried to shoot me, you always had the gun right in my face".
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>ileana</strong> on <strong>December 31, 2011, 01:41:12 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Al threw her head back and laughed almost barking. Shaking her head she half walked and half slid down the sandy dune. "Still a selective memory I see." she said obviously amused as she stepped to the group, not at all worried about that sword in his hand. "You have forgotten half the encounters that I won, old friend." Though she used the last word in a mocking manner, only she and Marcus would recognize. <br><br>It was true, she was just as good as she were, that they both were still alive was the best sign for it. Standing right in front of the man she smirked and looked up into his eyes, he was maybe half a head taller, but that did not mean that he was naturally better than her. And he knew it, she was his equal. As if whoever built this blasted planet thought it would be fun to have a female version of him. <br><br>"It's almost a pleasure to see that you are still a breathing waterbag, how boring would life be without you." She still smirked, winked at Marcus and turned her eyes to the others in the group, saluting with one finger at her forehead. "Me name is Al, an old friend of that bugger here." she introduced herself. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kingmaster1</strong> on <strong>December 31, 2011, 02:31:00 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"without me you would just lose any point to fight", he said mockingly to her. "Old friend is an understatement" he said "this little fire cracker here is one of the few people who can fight me". Marcus circled her and stood behind her, "last I saw you Al, you where running away from the Carrion Revelers while I held two of their severed skulls in my hands." he chuckled, "good to see it wasn't a pointless escape".<br><br>Marcus looked over her and other than the rifle she looked more or less the same. He grabbed the other cigarette from his pocket and lit it up.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>FrostShifter</strong> on <strong>January 02, 2012, 09:53:00 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Julia had startled at the gun shot, glaring in the direction of the shooter. She dusted a few small debris pieces from her shoulder, shaking her head.&nbsp;<br><br>"guess I don't need to scout ahead." she mumbled.&nbsp;<br><br>She ran a hand through her hair as the two friends exchanged words.&nbsp;<br><br>"Julia." she nodded in introduction.&nbsp;<br><br>Her hawk flew down, landing on her shoulder. He tugged at it urgently.&nbsp;<br><br>"Cut it out, Archie." she whispered to the bird.&nbsp;<br><br>When he didn't stop, she swatted at him.&nbsp;<br><br>"what is it?" She huffed.&nbsp;<br><br>Archie flew off, disappearing over a nearby hill.&nbsp;<br><br>"hey, I'll be right back."<br><br>She ran off, making her way quickly over the hill. Archie was sitting on top of a rock, looking out over an expanse of desert.&nbsp;<br><br>"Oh shit!"&nbsp;<br><br>She ducked behind the rock, praying she hadn't been seen. Rolling over, she pulled her rifle from her back, an looked through the scope. This group was huge, not even trying to hide themselves. She placed the rifle back, making her way down the hill.&nbsp;<br><br>"umm, guys?" she said once she reached her group. "I hate to interrupt the reunion but we have a situation."&nbsp;<br><br>She pointed to the hill she had just been on.&nbsp;<br><br>"large group of guys, who look pissed."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>shojin</strong> on <strong>January 02, 2012, 10:26:01 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The robot grudgingly motored along within that large group of men. Light's from it blinked round the large ellipsoid head while it dragged supplies along the dirt with the cable tie hooked very carelessly into it's back. If only there could be a savior, somewhere, somehow! Then he spotted that girl from afar. None of the rest of the group had noticed her, but his zoomed lenses could clearly see the woman that popped up for a moment with the rifle. His programming told him to start moving in that direction, though that meant breaking the current formation of the group, which got him a swift kick in his metal plating - denting it easily. As if he didn't have enough problems - sand and dirt all caught in his servos. His treads were just about completely worn out as well.<br><br>"Curse you, foul meat-bag! I would disintegrate your flesh if it were not for this blasted lock on me!" He made sure to be as vocal as he could, because that's how he was programmed to talk. With enthusiasm and cheer. The man just shrugged off his comment while the robot waited for the girl to come rescue him. He almost just started shouting over at where she was, but thought better of it for the moment. She would save him, right?
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kingmaster1</strong> on <strong>January 03, 2012, 12:33:43 am</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marcus turned his back on Al, which hadn't been a smart idea anytime in the past. "<strong>a big group?</strong>" Marcus said, "<strong>how fun</strong>" he cracked his knuckles and ran to the top of the hill. He took in the large group, ten men, two women, and oddly enough a robot. "<strong>haven't seen one of those in a long time</strong>", Marcus slid back down the hill ad walked up to Al. "<strong>I got an idea sweetheart, how bout we tally the amount we can kill?</strong>", he motioned towards the hill, " <strong>like old times</strong>"<br><br>'<em>This looks simple enough</em>' Marcus slid down to the flat area and started slowly going towards the big mob of people. When he got close enough he looked them all over, 'at least three of them have high bounties'. He saw one unfold some paper and mumble something to the others, "you" he said "your the one on the poster". He held up the paper, a wanted poster with his name plastered on it. Marcus tipped his hat down and smirked at them, "<strong>you gonna do something about that?</strong>". Two of them held up their pistols and pointed them at Marcus, "We gonna shoot you!".<br><br>Marcus ducked down and hit them both in the stomach with the hilt of his sword, they both grunted as they hit the ground. Bullets started to fly and Marcus used the robot as a shield, the bullets flew off. "<strong>you could be useful</strong>" he said to the machine, "<strong>anytime you wanna but in here!?</strong>" he shouted to the hill.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>shojin</strong> on <strong>January 03, 2012, 01:35:34 am</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Danger! Danger! Plating not armoring!" The robot quickly spun it's treads, moving over the man's toe as bullets started to rip through the thin shielding. The robot certainly would not last long as a shield - and it might not even be functional now that some of the internal moving parts had been mangled by stray lead.<br><br>"TK-007 now initiating protocol HS-5! Run away!" It started to moved on the dirty quickly, and if Marcus was holding on, it would easily have dragged him along while it tried to escape the bullets. Unfortunately, TK could not move faster than the foreign objects pummeling him, so when he heard a sudden 'Psshhhhhh' One of the pneumatic arms he had fell useless to his side. On the bright side, a bullet smacked into the electronic lock they had put into it's chest, which made the bot stop in it's tracks and turn. The lights that circled his head suddenly converged in the direction of one of the men, and the still working arm raised toward him. <br><br>"TK-007 now initiating protocol BS-4. Eat energy scum!" A green laser that turned the man into a pile of dust followed. The other men quickly took cover from the robot's laser blasts. At least no one was in the open now.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>ileana</strong> on <strong>January 03, 2012, 01:28:54 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Al stood up on the sandy dune she walked up to when Marcus had left the small group to check on the big one. She had been shaking her head, sure why should one ask questions first, there were many reasons for angry people passing this path and not all of them needed to be solved by killing anyone. But Marcus never had been asking questions, even if that meant that he killed someone who could have been useful. Such a fool. "Yeah just like old times.." she mumbled to herself as she watched for a moment. <br><br>Since he had started to attack the group it was no wonder that everyone faught back, they would have been bigger fools if they would have just surrendered to death. And now that they were already in a fight, the questions were not possible anymore. She would have loved to know why they were pissed like hell but yeah, whenever Marcus was around it was not possible to investigate a thing, his luck that he was not Sherlock's successor. But also since they were already fighting and since she could not ask anything anymore there was no reason to hold back, so she docked the rifle and began with carefully aimed shots into the heads of the men, no reason to see them suffer anymore than needed, even if she thought that Marcus was of different opinion. She didn't care if he did, he could have his way of fun, she could have her's. <br><br>She still stood up here, a far better view from the dune than from ground level and since Marcus went berserk down there almost nobody really paid attention to her position, as they were too busy to avoid the blade of that old sword. Just a few heads later, she furrowed her brows. Did that Robot just shoot one of the guys in that big group? His own masters?<br><br>She kept the rifle in her hand when she slid down the dune in a couple of steps, taking a load of sand with her as she approached that robot. <br><br>"Hey you." she said over the noise of the fight. "Robot, Identify yourself." That usually worked to get through whatever those were doing and have them focus on the order they got. But who knew if that worked on this one as well, in these lands nothing was impossible. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>shojin</strong> on <strong>January 03, 2012, 02:27:13 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The robot all but stopped what it was doing, swiveling to face her on the plate above it's treads. The lights started to circle it's head again. In fact, the where the brain should have been in this Robobrain model was just a plate of metal now, hiding whatever was underneath it.<br><br>"ID: Tee Kay Zero Zero Seven: Personality construct.<br>Owner: Thomas Verdon.<br>Manufacturer: Verdon Designs.<br>Current Battery Level: 43 hours remaining.<br>Current Data Storage: .003% Remaining.<br>Current Ammunition Cache: 6% of energy cells remaining."<br><br>"Now can we please rid these men of their souls? Onward comrades!" The robot turned back to the current threat. It was certainly excited to fight, or at least that was how it spoke. It was obviously a hacked robot - there was no big shot company named Verdon Designs before all hell broke loose on the planet. That was somebody with enough tech know-how to rewrite the robot's internal code and form a new AI for it.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>ileana</strong> on <strong>January 07, 2012, 01:52:07 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Al was not a programmer or digit pusher, as she called them, though she did not know why really, so for her it looked like a perfectly normal robot with an unusual programming. Whoever its owner has been before, they must have had some humor. <br><br><br>"Sure go ahead." she said shrugging her shoulders. "But keep your lasers and what not from my people." Not that they really were her people, but for now they were a group, so she would take care of them. Even of that arrogant type Marcus, he was too much fun to let him die. <br><br><br>As if someone heard her thoughts, a guy who was apparently not seen by Marcus tried the approach from behind and already raised his gun. Al shouldered her rifle and aimed, a moment later the guy dropped dead into the sand. Just a case of the right look into the right direction at the right moment, sometimes it was just a matter of luck.<br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kingmaster1</strong> on <strong>January 09, 2012, 11:08:21 am</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marcus ducked and ran behind the crazed robot. "well, this makes my job easier", he said as the bot turned his companions to dust.&nbsp; Marcus continued to stab anyone who the robot missed, when he heard a gunshot behind him he turned, surprised that any of them actually had time to fire off. 'oh' he thought 'just all shooting someone in the head', he looked over the ground, now riddled with bodies, and couldn't find any trace of his two friends "doc?" he called "Gregg?".<br><br>He couldn't see them but he was pretty sure they where safe. "well, I think the official talley is six me, five you, and five robot" he wiped his face cockily. "I guess I haven't lost my touch", Marcus turned to the robot "robot" he called "you have a name? other than TK-007?". It had been a while since Marcus was around a robot, especially one that odd. "wait did you say your creator was named Thomas Verdon?" he rubbed his head "I think I met a Thomas Verdon not too long ago".
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>shojin</strong> on <strong>January 10, 2012, 12:27:49 am</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Negative! There were 20 in this group originally. I deleted four as a self defense tactic when they first found me." The robot didn't do it to be cocky, it just liked keeping all of it's data in perfect order. Oh, okay, maybe it did enjoy knocking him down a little, but who could tell when it's speech always sounded so enthusiastic.<br><br>"My designation is TK-007. My owner frequently used a shortened 'TK' instead to refer to me, though he was incorrect in my designated model number." The robot's light flickered a moment, powering off and then coming back online again. "Yes, my owner is Thomas Verdon. He also manufactured my individual parts and coded my artificial intelligence. If you know him, please return this robotic unit to his possession at once." Thomas was a strange fellow - possibly strange than most in the wastes. Rather than trying to live in a community, or scavenge to survive within the world, Thomas took the first opportunity he could to lock himself in a bunker and teach himself how to code, do metal work, and create bombs. Then he made robots. Many robots - and once their usefulness was over, he sent them out into the world to collect mapping data. Once their databanks were full, they were internally instructed to return to him - but unfortunately, he forgot to code how to find their way back in a few of the bots. The maps they contain were actually fairly valuable, giving that they marked everything they saw.<br><br>Those who have met Thomas are the ones who have been denied help and turned away via a monitor in front of his bunker, surrounded by a minefield.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>FrostShifter</strong> on <strong>January 12, 2012, 04:48:13 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Julia shook her head as she followed the others into battle. She pulled out her pistol, honestly eager to use it for the first time.<br><br>She didn't make it far down the hill before a sharp pain bit into her abdomen. She glanced down, watching as the blood seeped from a wound a stray bullet had inflicted. Archie let out a cry for her as she went down. In her mind, she was running through all the medical information she had learned. From the placment of the wound, she knew that if she didn't get attention soon, it would be fatal. <br><br>The scenery in front of her blurred, but she didn't need vision to try and focus on putting pressure on her wound. She forced herself to roll over and lay on her hands. She hoped her body weight would be enough to stem the flow. Everything began to darken and far too soon, she blacked out.<br><br>With another cry, Archie launched over to the others, frantic for attention. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kingmaster1</strong> on <strong>January 12, 2012, 06:40:03 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marcus' attention was drawn to the shrieking hawk that circled the doc, who was now lying on the ground. "doc!" he yelled, Marcus ran over to her and saw she was unconcious, "Gregg get over here we need to get to the next town quick it has a doctor to help our doctor" Marcus picked her up easily and started walking, "you two" he called to the robot and Al, "follow us if you want, not like you got anything better to do" he tipped his hat and went on. He wanted to make sure she made it, he could feel her breathing and tried to close the bullet wound as best he could.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>vietatoSconosciuto</strong> on <strong>January 12, 2012, 07:51:03 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				standing on top of the hill with his rifle aimed out east mostly unaware of what was happening below him, thought his scope he could see smoke raising from the near by town just below the hills so it couldn't be seen from the road. Hearing Marcus shout to him he looked down to see what was going on and could see Marcus picking the doc from the floor blood had stained the sand where she lay, he quickly ran down the hill to join the rest of the group picking up the docs rifle as he went. ''hey Marcus wait there something you need to see'', Gregg stopped next to Marcus out of breath ''I don't think them guys where just heading this way'' taking a deep breath ''There was smoke coming from Girderhaven'', looking up he noticed the doc ''oh shit yeah more pressing matters at hand, ill ermm go scout ahead''
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>ileana</strong> on <strong>January 16, 2012, 06:28:42 am</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Al rolled her eyes when Marcus did the headcount. It got old, he always seemed to think he was the best, oh and of course he also knew everyone just like that robot's owner. Sure what else. "If you did not notice that, Mister hot shot, if it weren't for me you could stick your six somewhere now, and you need learn math. Whatever." As nice as banter with him was, she was just as good as him, just that he would never admit that. She wondered why she always kept going with him. When the robot corrected him she laughed out loud, she liked that metal dude. <br><br>Patting the top of the robot she grinned. "I like you, TK." shouldering her rifle she took a few steps when she heard the cry of the other woman in the group. Turning around she was not at all surprised when Marcus, the hero of the day she thought eyerolling, was with her already. "You are not the boss, Marcus, cut it out." she replied to his 'offer' to come with them. "And you should focus on either walking and carrying her or closing that damned wound. You are better doing one thing good than two things half arsed." she said and walked next to him, ripping off some of the fabric of her short skirt and folded it to press it on the wound. She could walk just as fast as him and the woman, he called Doc, would not like very much if he let her die, just because he did not watch the way because he had to fumble at her wound, so she took over that part while he carried her.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>shojin</strong> on <strong>January 16, 2012, 01:07:04 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				TK made a metal thunk as Al patted him on the head. That was a first. The robot sat silently through their commotion, before rolling over to the rest of the folks and looking at the wounded woman. TK's lens shifted to a second one, which instantly shot a beam toward Julia, running up and down her body. The thing was scanning her - and it looked rather privacy-invasive.<br><br>"Female is incapacitated, with a bullet lodged in her abdomen. If she doesn't receive medical treatment within the next two to four hours, her chances of survival are 0.0000001 percent. Within the time frame, it's a much better 34.8 percent." The robot was captain obvious for the moment, but it was clerical. Data was facts, and he absolutely needed to provide them. The robot skidded forward, letting the boxes fall from the cart that was crudely attached to him, and turned sideways.<br><br>"I have a greater carrying capacity, and would provide our party with greater maneuverability through this wasteland."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Les Man</strong> on <strong>January 16, 2012, 05:02:00 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The dirty, bearded man rode along on his skinny mule, dozing off lazily on the animal's back, wobbling unsteadily in the seat.&nbsp; He wore a faded black fireman's uniform that was maybe two sizes too big for him, the reflective yellow bands around the arms, torso and legs cracked and peeling, revealing a mottled gray fabric beneath.&nbsp; On his head he wore a matching, just-as-sun-faded black fireman's helmet, with the protective fabric lining pulled down, leaving just his face exposed through a too-large hole, but it still offered protection from the wasteland sun.&nbsp; The cracked visor on the helmet was pulled down, but was so damaged and dust-covered it was doubtful that he could actually see through it, and protruding beneath his dark, dirty beard hung down to his collar-bone and looked as if he had quickly lopped the end off with a knife when it got too long.<br><br>The mule was unhealthy-looking and appeared barely strong enough to actually hold a single person, but it was loaded up with mismatched bundles, bags and packages, all strapped or tied to the makeshift saddle he had made from old blankets, and it trudged along through the sand steadily and dutifully.&nbsp; Looking closely, one may be able to see a fire-fighter's gas-mask and oxygen-tank harness, though the mask apparently had a piece of duct tape covering what appeared to be a bullet-hole in it.&nbsp; The man himself appeared not to have any weapons visible, but his fire-fighter's uniform was so large it was possible he could have anything under there.<br><br>And so it was that the so-far unnamed man was riding through the wasteland on a mule with no name (yet), daydreaming about how good it would feel to get some rain, when sudden gunshots in the distance and an odd, squealing, blasting sound jerked him out of his blissful ignorance with a start.&nbsp; "NIXON?!"&nbsp; The man yelled as he came to, looking around frantically for the source of the gunfire.&nbsp; He saw nothing, but the sounds of fighting continued as he realized his mule had been just as startled as he was, but had not broken out into a run, instead continuing along at an almost unphased pace.&nbsp; The man sighed and patted the mule's neck, mumbling in a hoarse voice, "lazy bastard."&nbsp; The man's mule, Nixon, truly was a stubborn beast, refusing to run and exert more energy unless it was completely clear and evident there was an immediate threat to it's life, and even then it was not guaranteed.&nbsp; The man sighed again and felt it might be for the best anyway, the animal seemed to dump him and leave him behind just as often as it seemed to actually get him to safety.<br><br>Pinpointing the location the gunshots had come from, as they died down, the man and his mule slowly crept up to a rather tall dune, Nixon thankful for the change of pace.&nbsp; At the bottom of the dune the man dismounted the mule, who let out a cranky "hee" and received a prompt, but light, slap in the face for it.&nbsp; The man pointed his finger in the animal's face and glared.&nbsp; "I said, you <i>shut</i> your mouth, Nixon," he whispered fiercely.&nbsp; The man spent a moment longer to stare the indifferent animal down, then climbed the dune to peer over the top, producing a pair of binoculars from somewhere within his clothes.&nbsp; The man proudly looked the binoculars over before putting the one good lens up to his eye and slowly peeking his head over the dune's peak.<br><br>Apparently, thankfully, he was late for the party, as he saw a pile of dead bodies nearby, and a little further off a small group of, presumably, the survivors, two men, one of whom was carrying what looked like a woman, another woman, and a weird metal... thing... attached to what looked like a small trailer.&nbsp; The man looked back at his mule, then at the metal thing the people out there had.&nbsp; He had never seen a vehicle like (and never even heard of a robot before), so he naturally wondered where they got the gas to power their trailer-puller, and for a moment felt the pangs of jealousy that the poor have for the rich.&nbsp; His brow furrowed as he dwelt on that for a moment, then he noticed that the woman being carried seemed to be hurt--was that blood?<br><br>"Hmmm," he said.&nbsp; "Well, Nixon," he said, despite knowing the animal couldn't hear him.&nbsp; "What do you think...?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kingmaster1</strong> on <strong>January 18, 2012, 06:17:11 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marcus ignored Al for the moment as much as he hated admitting it she was right, he shouldn't try and hold the wound closed on his own. "thanks Al" she wouldn't let him live that one down. Marcus saw the robot turn and what he assumed was offer a ride, "okay Tk if you can get us there faster than you should, head west I know of a town not far off" he climbed into the trailer and set Julia on the floor, using her pack as a pillow. He saw her hawk perch on the top too, "quick she doesn't have much time".<br><br>Marcus could see some figure in the distance, some old man riding a donkey. He appeared to be arguing with it too, Marcus couldn't be bothered with someone else they all had to make sure Julia made it.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>sexomancy</strong> on <strong>January 20, 2012, 12:29:39 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The best investment Vincent ever made was the two grand in coins he spent on the binoculars that swung at his chest. They were originally made for wildlife photographers and bird watchers, but on a clear day they had more clarity and a greater field of vision than most military grade scopes. Through the magnified lenses he managed to spot every possible danger that threatened him and his business. As long as he stayed on flat open terrain, he could either avoid the chaos that surrounded him or simply shoot at it before it got too close. This had so far been a sound strategy, as his career as a traveling merchant had been going on five years strong. <br><br>Another strategy he liked to deploy on slow days was to climb on top of the tallest hill he could find and sit very, very still. There he would stay, hours on end, peering through his binoculars and waiting for a large enough gang of bandits to wander by. He could always identify them by the prevalence of spikes and skulls that adorned their armor. When they passed he would follow behind them, very slowly, until they came across a group of adventurers or another gang of bandits that would spark a confrontation. If there were no survivors, he would loot the bodies to restock his inventory. If there was but a few remaining, he would position himself ahead of their path and set up his make shift shop and sell his products to the moderately wealthy survivors. It came at no surprise that Vincent picked up the nickname 'Buzzard' in his travels. <br><br>The confrontation he witnessed this day was particularly bloody, though not nearly the worst he had seen. A large man with a sword from the remaining party seemed to intimidate him even at half a mile away, so he kept his distance. He scanned the horizon and spotted a lone figure trudging across the landscape atop a sorry looking mule. Vincent had long lost his sympathy for most of humanity, and the sad sight before him tickled his senses and brought him to laughter. He got up off his feet, stretched, straightened his trademark pith helmet, slung his massive ruck sack over his shoulder and sauntered off to meet what had to be the most depressing man he had ever seen in his life. <br><br>"I say good day to you, sir! How have you traveled well?" 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>sexomancy</strong> on <strong>January 21, 2012, 12:29:50 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				(http://oi44.tinypic.com/6y2yog.jpg)
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Les Man</strong> on <strong>January 21, 2012, 08:53:34 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				&nbsp; As he spoke, the as-of-yet-unnamed man in an overlarge fire-fighter's uniform heard his mule, Nixon, start to fuss and shuffle in the sand.&nbsp; His head snapped around at the familiar warning signs and he quickly spotted yet another strange figure, this one approaching <em>him</em>.&nbsp; He had rolled over and slid back down the dune's side, once more out of sight of the group of travelers who had just survived an attack.&nbsp; He watched the red-coated man in a funny helmet approach, with his <em>fancy</em> binoculars around his neck, an air of casual confidence about him.&nbsp; He stiffened within his uniform, his eyes narrowing, beads of sweat starting to form on his spine.&nbsp; Casual confidence--the weapon of raiders and gangs and murderers.&nbsp; He eyed the other man as he stopped before him, thinking to himself, <em>well, it's just you and him right now... and Nixon's kicks... maybe....&nbsp; If he does anything stupid I could maybe take him out, but I'd risk attracting attention from those loons behind me.&nbsp; Just 'cause they survived doesn't mean they aren't the bad guys.</em>&nbsp; Suddenly his eyes lit up as if he understood.<br><br>&nbsp; He listened to the man's introduction and responded, though he ignored the man's pleasantries, his own social skills having deteriorated quite a bit his many years traveling alone on his pack-mule.&nbsp; "What are you here for?&nbsp; I saw 'em first," he rasped in a coarse, rarely-used voice.&nbsp; "I got here first, the left-overs are mine!&nbsp; You can have what I don't want; I only need--waitaminute... are you one of them?"&nbsp; He indicated over his shoulder to the people beyond the dune's crest, but it was unclear if he was referring to the dead ones or the living ones.&nbsp; As harsh as the bearded man sounded, it seemed neither of them had pulled a weapon on the other yet--the unnamed man either didn't seem to notice, or didn't think he needed one to back his words up, however it was more likely he came off as "raving," rather than intimidating.&nbsp; Dangerous, of course--unstable is always dangerous--but <em>intimidating</em>... maybe to some.&nbsp; Nixon, the mule, sniffed at the air, suddenly gaining a growing interest in the other man's green duffel bag.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>sexomancy</strong> on <strong>January 22, 2012, 01:20:33 am</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Vincent chuckled. While the fireman's helmet was a wise choice of desert wear, the thick insulated coat had to be one of the stupidest things he ever saw a person wear out in the wasteland. He stood his ground and fished a sample bottle of whiskey out from his coat pocket and tossed it to the ground. He pointed to it. "That's yours. Free of charge." <br><br>Very carefully, Vincent placed his ruck sack onto the ground and raised his his white gloved hand. While his eyes focused at the fireman through the lenses of his reflective shades, his lips parted to speak very deliberate words. "Sir, I know nothing of the surviving party, but from what I can gather, they are too dangerous for a man of my profession to affiliate himself with. As for yourself, I can surmise that you're too disheveled and weak to be a raider, otherwise I would have shot you." He removed his helmet and indicated to the bodies strewn about the cracked landscape. "The possessions of the dead are yours to take, if that is what you wish. I've enough trinkets in my bag to sustain myself for the time being. Please, take the whiskey as a peace offering. It is quite smooth." <br><br>He returned the helmet to his head and retrieved a pipe from his jacket, which he proceeded to pack with a moist pinch of tobacco. After three spent matches he had the bowl good and burning, and the sweet scent of cherries wafted through the air. The fireman's befuddlement began to irritate Vincent rather than amuse him. His patience had gone short, and he stamped his boot heel into the sand. "Go on, go take your spoils! I've had my entertainment for the day." 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Les Man</strong> on <strong>January 28, 2012, 10:14:55 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				&nbsp; The man dressed as a fire-fighter eyed the half-pint of sealed, aged whiskey hungrily, he even licked his lips.&nbsp; Sealed bottles like that were the rarest of the rare, by this time aged <em>at least</em> a hundred years to perfection--anything over a year was considered "smooth" in this world.&nbsp; He looked up and eyed the stranger in a red coat suspiciously, then slowly, cautiously, rose to his feet, and crept down the side of the dune.<br><br>&nbsp; He watched the stranger curiously, until the other man spoke harshly.&nbsp; Eying the man warily, he reach under his large, heat-resistant fireman's coat and produced what they used to call a magazine.&nbsp; The fireman tossed it down on the ground next to the bottle and quickly snatched up the liquor, stuffing it away out of sight under his clothes somewhere.&nbsp; After sizing the man up, he beleived the other man truly meant him no harm, so he felt he could get away with acting tough for a moment.&nbsp; Eyeing the other man, he pointedly said, "you can have the ammo.&nbsp; I don't need that."&nbsp; He stared for a moment, then glanced at the mule, "watch him Nix," he said to the animal, ten scurried over the dune's peak and down the other side toward the little of dead bodies.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Something to do...in the wasteland. In-Character Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay. Open</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MrModular</strong> on <strong>February 02, 2012, 05:35:35 pm</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				In most of his years, Walter Milhouse had seen many like it, but never had the inclination to settle in a town like Girderhaven again. Too many people, too many strangers, too many egos. This particular afternoon, He wasn't so inclined to be walking the seven miles from his squat burrow to the town again for the commonplace but nerve wracking errand of selling the ermine fur hanging at his belt. Walter had delayed this particular task as long as possible yet when the food runs short and the beer goes bad, it's time to check the traps, man up, and head to town. <br><br>There was another man in town, who by right of being the type of man who would buy ermine fur, served the purpose of Walter being the trapper he had been for the last couple decades. Wherever the game was, there was Walter. Moving with the fluctuations of animal population, attuned to the land and like shifting dunes, set up camp where nature told him to, often, far enough away from civilization to maintain a particular disdain for the various drifters, drunks, ne'er do wells and settlers he was secretly longing to be a part of. <br><br>With a nearly ancient Mosin Nagant, a Colt double action 45. revolver, and enough old, dirt colored bedsheets wrapped around him to put Peter O Toole to shame, Walter was but three miles from town when a terrible row had started... gun shots, a common enough component to his world. <br><br>Walter had rounded a small outcrop of rocks about a mile from town to see what was apparently the doctor, wounded, with others in tow. Amongst them a robot carrying the Doctor in a trailer of sorts. Carefully making his&nbsp; way behind the facades of the old clapboard tavern, he saw the man he was looking for. <br><br>Once in town, he took a moment to lean against the outside of the tavern and watch the buyer, a Vincent, take a flask of something from his person and customarily offer it in the manner of two strangers meeting, tossing it to the ground in front of him. "Here you go, I no give you poison food" Walter narrated under his breath, watching the interaction of the buyer and the stranger. The stranger with the mule, now taking the flask and retreating to a hillock out of sight, Walter watched Vincent, take the pipe from his Jacket at light up. <br><br>Taking this opportunity, Walter straightened himself, took the wrappings from his face to reveal his thirty years of slightly wind burnt but sharp features, grizzled brown beard, dark blue eyes and shapely expressive lips seemingly taken from someone else and pasted on this rugged man. <br><br>*cough*<br><br><em>"I suppose you have another few trinkets for to trade with sir?"</em><br><br>Walter mumbled, making his way to Vincent, checking the ermine fur at his waist and unsnapping the holster at his right hip in one fluid, hesitant motion. 
			</dd>
		</dl>
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