Fallout: A New Take~ IC Thread
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Extreme =&gt; Extreme Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: immabanana on 03-02-2013, 07:27:28</h2>
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				Title: <strong>Fallout: A New Take~ IC Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>immabanana</strong> on <strong>03-02-2013, 07:27:28</strong>
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				<div align="center"><span style="font-family: comic sans ms;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 24pt;" class="bbc_size"><strong>A Post-Apocalyptic Small Group RP</strong></span></span><br><br><hr><br><span style="font-family: comic sans ms;" class="bbc_font">Rules: There are no rules ;3</span><br><br><hr><br>(https://encrypted-tbn2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSeV5zENRco4mHh4OcE2algvjotnLP2_M33ToUh_z7N_e9FCx_fPQ)<br><br><span style="font-family: comic sans ms;" class="bbc_font">War, war never changes.&nbsp; <br>The faces, names, and weapons have changed from the dawn of time to the modern era.&nbsp; <br>When the world made the ultimate weapon, they marveled at their brilliance without thought of consequence.&nbsp; <br>When the doors guarding the secret of the atom had been unlocked there was no way to hide it away again.&nbsp; <br>The proverbial Pandora's Box had been opened and its terrible contents unleashed upon the world.&nbsp; <br>To abate the worries of the population one company created underground structures known as Vaults.&nbsp; <br>Space in a Vault came at a premium.&nbsp; <br>In the case of a nuclear war they would shield those within so that at least a fraction of the human race would survive a Nuclear War.&nbsp; <br>They thought it was the last World War, when the power of suns rained down upon the world scorching the land and leaving it a radioactive wasteland.&nbsp; <br>But war never changes, and it never dies.&nbsp; <br>Now a new war begins, one for survival.&nbsp; <br>The weapons and purposes and names may change, but war never changes.</span><br><br><hr><br><span style="font-family: comic sans ms;" class="bbc_font">Survive and thrive... Or die.<br><br>Important Links: <br>OOC: http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=164739.0 (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=164739.0)<br>Interest/Joining Thread: http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=164615.0 (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=164615.0)</span></div>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fallout: A New Take~ IC Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Primarch</strong> on <strong>05-02-2013, 04:42:18</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://media.giantbomb.com/uploads/11/116915/2314805-256x256_axton.jpg)</div><strong>Octavian <br>Outside the Prospector Saloon</strong><br><br>Goodsprings. It was a shit hole. It was also just about as exactly opposite from Fort Hill as it could get. Things had really gone bad this time. At least the Doc that patched him up knew what he was doing. The shrapnel he pulled from his side had not been an encouraging sight and he could still feel the wound when he walked. Still, he was stuck here for a while unless he fancied walking all the way across the wastes to get back on his own. That was not encouraging. If he could endure and return, with knowledge of everything he saw in his journey, Caesar would respect it. For now he was standing outside a 'saloon' while 'Easy Pete' stared at him while he tried to have a cigarette. <br><br>He missed the weight of the armour on his right arm of his centurion armour. What a stupid thing to miss. But he missed it. The duster he wore wasn't a bad piece but it wasn't right. The magnum at his side would do its job, but he was living an inferior life without service to the Legion. He almost wished the Powder Gangers would make a move, just so he could kill them and achieve something today. If not, he could always try fuck Sunny Smiles. She seemed like she liked to take it up the ass. Mount her like a bitch. Always had the dog around. Clear sign of a woman that like it that way. <br><br>That was more then likely a thought for later on however, for now he was more concerned about the heat that was beating down on him. He'd head back inside soon and have something to drink. They might not have liked him around here, he made no effort to hide he was Legion, but if he did a job they'd pay him all the same. If he wanted to use that pay to purchase drink, well his money was good enough for them too. With his cigarette finished he dropped it to the ground before outing it with his boot. Ooh how he would have rather to have a head under that boot. Preferably Easy Pete's head. But Pete's time would come. 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fallout: A New Take~ IC Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Re Z L</strong> on <strong>07-02-2013, 02:18:33</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(http://i.imgur.com/daRr5zx.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>&nbsp; Smith (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=164739.msg7662661#msg7662661)<br><strong>Location:</strong>&nbsp; Inside Prospector Saloon<br><strong>Tagged:</strong>&nbsp; Open<br><hr><br>The smoke was a little thick today, thicker than it usually was around this time.&nbsp; Smith didn't mind.&nbsp; A glass of whiskey to sip, a pack of cards to play with, and nothing but time on his hands made him a happy man.&nbsp; The other residents wouldn't start really gathering in the saloon for a while longer.&nbsp; Most either tending to the things they need to do to make sure they see another ultra-violet sunrise, or too proper to enjoy a glass of booze this early in the day.&nbsp; Smith had already taken care of his "chores".&nbsp; Sunny appreciated the help since he could wander a little farther from town without much trouble to hunt for food or supplies.&nbsp; His assistance to the town gave him the luxury of these wonderful, quiet moments he enjoyed from time to time.<br><br>As he flipped over a face card he imagined the faces the people he killed which ultimately brought him here, though the memory passed with the flip of the next card.&nbsp; He'd been here several months now, made a little cash on the side helping around the town when they needed a hand with almost anything.&nbsp; He wondered idly how much longer he'd stay, how much longer it would be before trouble came to this little town, either looking for him or looking for any of the other folks that passed through.<br><br>But when he took another sip of his whiskey everything seemed like it might just be okay for one more day.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fallout: A New Take~ IC Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>immabanana</strong> on <strong>07-02-2013, 22:42:55</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(http://i1231.photobucket.com/albums/ee507/miinnii9/Roleplay%20Characters/NOMADS_Cyberpunk_2.jpg)</div> <div style="text-align: right;"><strong>Jacey...</strong> <em>Just Jacey.</em><br><strong>Location:</strong> <em>Inside the Prospector Saloon</em><br><strong> Disposition:</strong> <em>Restless</em></div> <div class="floatleft">║▌│█│║▌║││█ ▌█ ▌█ ▌ ║▌│█│║ ║▌│█│║▌║││█ ▌█ ▌█ ▌ ║▌│█│║ ║▌│█│║▌║││█ ▌█ ▌█ ▌ ║▌│█│║</div><br><hr><br><div align="center"><span style="font-size: 10pt;" class="bbc_size">Goodsprings was just one turd in a long line of turds on an even bigger turd called the Mojave Wasteland... in Jace's opinion anyway. She was from back West, where the land was NCR controlled, the women were loose, and the beer flowed overpriced at every stop you made. Well, even Jace would have to say that Goodsprings and the West weren't that much different in that last respect. The old dried up bartender Trudy was charging twice as many caps as the last stop Jace had made for beer; her price for whiskey was even more ridiculous. That didn't stop her buying of course. Jace had the alcohol tolerance of a man, and with drinking being her favorite past time, nothing was going to stop her from wasting some caps on some fresh brew.<br><br>For the past few months, or so it seemed like anyway, Jace had been here and there, selling Jet, Psycho, Mentants, Hydra, Buffout, Rebound, and any other Chem you could put your mind to. She bought what she sold directly from the makers themselves for bargain prices, then sold them to the highest addicted bidder for twice as much. In her eyes, it was purely business. After all, was it her fault if some loon buffed up on Buffout kills a whole town after he buys from her? <em>No. It's not. I'm just trying to make a living.</em> So a living she had made. Granted it wasn't a very good one. The money was enough to scrabble by: a few beers here, some ammo there, some gambling here, but it wouldn't get her into New Vegas. <em>The grandest place in these here parts,</em> as some old coot a few stops back was like to tell her. From what she had heard, Vegas was a Utopia for someone like her. Merc work to do, idiots to sell Chems to, Casinos galore, fancy suits, and all the beer she could ever want. It was a hopeless thought though, and she knew it. Living from town to town and selling her wares were the only things that the future had in store for her. This day was no different from all the others. Today Goodsprings, tomorrow that other turd Primm. <br><br>Jace gave a sigh at her thoughts and propped her boots up on the old chipping table, causing a layer of mud to fall of the bottom and dust the ground. The old dried up bat Trudy gave her a dirty look, but she would never turn away a paying customer, and Jace knew it. The bottle of lukewarm beer lay on the table in front of her, along with half a pack of smokes. The ground around her was full of ashes from where she had completely disregarded the ashtray that had been offered to her. That had made the bartender turn away angrily with a mumble of "raised in a barn." For all Jace knew, she had been raised in a barn. "<strong>Time to hit the road soon,</strong>" she whispered to herself as she flicked a few more ashes into the pile forming at the bottom of her chair. </span></div>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fallout: A New Take~ IC Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>LeSane</strong> on <strong>08-02-2013, 16:33:32</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/TggyLbM.jpg?1)</div><strong>Name</strong>| Mac<br><strong>Location</strong>| Leaving from Goodsprings Gas Station<br><strong>Disposition</strong>| Loathing<br><hr><span style="font-size: 12pt;" class="bbc_size"><strong>T</strong></span><span style="font-size: 10pt;" class="bbc_size">his place was what he called home. GoodSprings. It was dull and lifeless, but served its purpose of keeping him safe in a town not even raiders felt worthy of going after. It was funny to the young man that felt somewhat superior to the rest of the towns folk. Not once had they bothered on asking why he just up and planted his feet in such a dying town. It sure as hell wasn't the atmosphere one could tell you that. It was due to the wires, parts, and old world items that seemed to work that caught his eye. Mac wanted to understand it all. For purposes most saw as crazy.<br><br>The past couple of months he'd been using the gas station as a building area since uncovering a Protectron that had been damaged in the wastes. Every waking moment had be or was spent searching high and low for things to repair the bot. Some of the towns people had saw it thinking of a way to sell it. As quickly as they had came bringing ideas of what to do with it he outright refused them even the Doc whom for reasons unknown respected was declined. Out of paranoia Mac locked the door to the gas station with shotgun in hand if someone thought twice of breaking in.<br><br>Today he pried himself from work long enough to see the ultra bright sun's rays hitting his skin so intensely. He almost wished that he could stay outside and look at the thing all day. Almost being the key word. The saloon if one fancied the place that had what he wanted. Food. He ached for it since going without a meal for two whole days to work on his robot. From this distance he could see one of the few people he did not find...tolerable. That Legion Bastard that Doc saved. That man had a nice heart, but helping him was one of the biggest mistake of this towns life. Over confident, Blood thirsty, and a brute all in one. Nothing more then a Barbarian.<br><br><br>If it had been him that Legion man would have a shotgun sized hole through his neck. This engineer of sorts detested Caesar's Legion. They took his eye, and crippled his left arm to the point of self modification just to use it when they did one of there raiding parties. The person that did it he could not remember, but as far as he knew it might as well of been him. For a moment a serious glare was sent towards Octavian from across the road.</span>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fallout: A New Take~ IC Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>yesiroleplay</strong> on <strong>09-02-2013, 02:44:16</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/9/9b/Kinzie2.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Kinzie.<br><strong>Location:</strong> Inside the Prospector Saloon<br><strong>Disposition:</strong> tired and bored<br><br>Bighorner balls and Brahmin tits. Sometimes, Kinzie thought the whole world was nothing but Bighorner balls and Brahmin tits, occasionally dotted with yucca or sage. She'd never been anywhere but Goodsprings in her whole life long.&nbsp; Well, maybe Ma and Pa found her out by the long road like they did some of the other kids, but if so she didn't recollect anything about that.&nbsp; She hoped they found her and she wasn't one of theirs, because... Well, it was better that way.<br><br>She finished the milking and checked on the bighorners, noting the healthy size of the two yearlings - they were almost ready for slaughter, which was a nasty messy business but that business kept her and Pa and the kids fed.&nbsp; Ma too, until she got the radiation and died three years back.&nbsp; Pa would be honing up the knives any day now, she thought as she carefully stowed the precious Brahmin milk in a mismatched collection of colorful glass bottles and urns.&nbsp; After feeding Pa and all the kids, there'd be little of the white liquid to hock down at the saloon, but the precious caps she collected from the milk was the only hard money the family saw.&nbsp; Most of the boys were out gathering, the girls - even baby Cindy - were about the place fixing and crafting, and Pa... well, she never knew what Pa was doing except that he was always busy providing.<br><br>Even with all the kids no one went really hungry in their family, and Pa - bless his generous heart - was a soft touch for any stranger wandering into town with their belt buckled up some notches too tight.&nbsp; &nbsp;That's why she had to hide the caps from him.&nbsp; He'd most likely give them away staking some prospector, or buy everyone in the saloon more beer than they needed. Speaking of beer - the last batch of yucca mash was most likely done fermenting and ready to water down and bottle for Trudy - if Pa and the boys didn't drink it all up before it got bottled.&nbsp; Not just them either - she had to smile - she drank her share, or half a share anyway.<br><br>Beer brought even more money than the milk, only Pa sold the beer so she couldn't hide those caps from him and his over-generous nature.&nbsp; Most likely that was where he was, out in the shack testing the mash.&nbsp; <strong>"Pa"</strong>&nbsp; She opened the creaky door, <strong>"I'm going down to the Saloon to sell the gathers and the milk."</strong>&nbsp; Only Pa wasn't in the mash shack, and that made her frown.&nbsp; It wasn't like Pa to neglect his work, especially work involving a new batch of beer.<br><br>No mind, she had to go down anyway, an Maggie had things well in hand keeping house.&nbsp; The boys were coming in and the girls were setting up and everything was going as smoothly as it did every day, day after day after day.&nbsp; Hauling a pail only half full of milk and a bag of yucca bananas and a few other gathered staples, she trod her way down the slope and to the saloon.&nbsp; Walking in the side door she stowed the small stock <strong>"Better than usual day."</strong>&nbsp; She informed Trudy.&nbsp; <strong>"Pa bring in the beer?"</strong>&nbsp; She asked, though a quick scan of the customer area gave her answer enough - he wasn't out there.<br><br>Just the usual usuals, and the usual couple of drifters.&nbsp; There were always a few strangers in town, but they were mostly the same even when the faces were new.&nbsp; She spotted a hard-looking woman lounging in a corner like she owned the place, which pretty well explained Trudy's fouler than usual mood as well as her distraction - with most of her attention on the stranger's dirty feet she hardly argued about quality or price at all!&nbsp; Kinzie smirked. drawing enjoyment from the temperamental woman's upset.&nbsp; She was still smirking when she caught the stranger's eye, though she let her gaze drift past after only a moment's eye contact.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fallout: A New Take~ IC Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>immabanana</strong> on <strong>12-02-2013, 01:23:13</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(http://i1231.photobucket.com/albums/ee507/miinnii9/Roleplay%20Characters/NOMADS_Cyberpunk_2.jpg)</div> <div style="text-align: right;"><strong>Jacey...</strong> <em>Just Jacey.</em><br><strong>Location:</strong> <em>Inside the Prospector Saloon</em><br><strong> Disposition:</strong> <em>Restless</em></div> <div class="floatleft">║▌│█│║▌║││█ ▌█ ▌█ ▌ ║▌│█│║ ║▌│█│║▌║││█ ▌█ ▌█ ▌ ║▌│█│║ ║▌│█│║▌║││█ ▌█ ▌█ ▌ ║▌│█│║</div><br><hr><br><div align="center"><span style="font-size: 10pt;" class="bbc_size">The farm girl selling her wares: it was all so normal, exactly the type of thing you would expect to see in Goodsprings. She had the <em>smell</em> about her of brahmin, but she more than made up for that in looks. Jace shook the last thought off; she had no time for cow hearders. It also wasn't very likely that she could sell her own wares to the girl, and that turned Jace off completely. If there was no profit, she wanted no part. <em>Ever the cold and calculating business woman.</em><br><br>She flicked the ashes off of her almost finished cigarette and took a long draw of the smoke. <em>Fuck I'm so bored.</em> It had been too long since she had gotten to use her sweet setup of guns, and it had been too long since she had gotten to bury one of their bullets into someone's skull. She missed the thrill of the fight; the bloodlust and adrenaline rush of being in a fire fight. The cigarette was suddenly on the ground, and so was her propped up boot. It was now stubbing out the cherry and she was reaching across the table to take the beer bottle in hand and chug it back as she stood. <em>Enough is enough. It's time to bounce.</em> She adjusted her tight leather top, pulled her loose pants up on her hips, and tightened the bandanna around her shaggy, uneven black hair. <br><br>Just as she was pushing the heavy old door open, gunshots started blazing. Jace's eyes widened as she ducked off to the side, taking cover from a shiny silver bullet that just barely missed her head. "What the-" Her words were cut off as Easy Pete stumbled in through the now open door, slamming it shut behind him. His heavy stomach was heaving with exertion and a fresh layer of sweat gave his forehead a dirty sheen. The hat he wore had a bullet hole going straight threw it, and for a second there, Jace thought he had been shot, but he took the hat off to examine it and started cussing up a storm.<br><br>"Raiders! We have Raiders!" he informed the bar as he took off for the back. Jace shook her head at his cowardice and ducked below a window ceil so she could peek out. Sure enough, there were raiders galore. Heavily armed from what she could see. She couldn't help but to let a smile come to her lips; this would be fun. Time to kick some ass and take some names. </span></div>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fallout: A New Take~ IC Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MezzaNotte</strong> on <strong>12-02-2013, 02:40:08</strong>
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				<strong>Name</strong>| Simon<br><strong>Location</strong>| Goodsprings "Doctor's Office"<br><strong>Disposition</strong>| Irritated<br><hr>Thunder echoed in the silence.<br><br>Glancing up from the small table where he was cataloging some of the Doc's medical supplies, Simon turned to face the sound. The man went still as a statue, which was unnerving to see in a human being. Most people, give or take, still retained some semblance of movement when they held still. Simon could have been mistaken for a statue, that's how much he didn't move. He simply waited, listening quietly, tuning out the sounds of the machines and the chem set in the Doc's home where he had been working.<br><br>So when a second and third volley of gunfire cracked out against the stillness of the day, Simon heard them, clear as glass. He stood from the desk, neatly tucked in his chair, and kicked open a small trunk sitting by the desk. A metallic clinking filled the air as Simon knelt to rummage around in the box. A .357 magnum came out only to nestle in the holster at the medic's side. A short machete of some design found itself sheathed opposite the revolver, and pieces of leather tumbled out as Simon closed the box. He was strapping them on as Doc came downstairs, fully dressed and armed for bear.<br><br>"Mornin', Doc." Simon smiled cheerfully as he strapped on the leather armor, before slipping into his Doctor's coat. Bullet holes already adorned the coat from times gone by, but he liked the coat, so he wore it. "Sounds like a shindig goin' on outside." Doc smiled. "I need to stay behind and keep watch over these folks," he said pleasantly, although there was an edge to his voice that wasn't quite hidden. He motioned behind him to a few patients who lay resting on the beds in the back room.<br><br>Simon shrugged as he reached next to the desk, and pulled a dusty old cowboy repeater out from the shadows. He ran a finger over the engraved bronze plate that held a single word. "That's fair and good. I'll go take a poke around; see what I can suss out."<br><br>He slid one of the curtains partly to the side, and took a look down towards the saloon and the general store. Flashes of light, muted by the distance, marked the obvious appearance of gunshots. Simon slid down the wall to the door, slipped it open, and quietly stepped outside, closing the door. Sticking to cover as best he could, rifle out in front of him, he began to make his way down towards the store.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fallout: A New Take~ IC Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>immabanana</strong> on <strong>04-04-2013, 03:32:58</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(http://i1231.photobucket.com/albums/ee507/miinnii9/Roleplay%20Characters/NOMADS_Cyberpunk_2.jpg)</div> <div style="text-align: right;"><strong>Jacey...</strong> <em>Just Jacey.</em><br><strong>Location:</strong> <em>Inside the Prospector Saloon</em><br><strong> Disposition:</strong> <em>Balls on Fire</em></div> <div class="floatleft">║▌│█│║▌║││█ ▌█ ▌█ ▌ ║▌│█│║ ║▌│█│║▌║││█ ▌█ ▌█ ▌ ║▌│█│║ ║▌│█│║▌║││█ ▌█ ▌█ ▌ ║▌│█│║</div><br><hr><br><div align="center"><span style="font-size: 10pt;" class="bbc_size">It didn't look like any of the other Salooners had any intention of fighting back, or at least for the moment. So Jace reached into her loose pants, pulling the 12.7mm SMG out of the elastic of her panties, tightened the goggles and bandanna on her head one last time, then poked her head back up so she could see what was going on outside. It looked like the fight was in favor of the raiders and several Goodspringers were laying flat out on the ground, cold and dead as could be. It seemed like they were rallying up the children and women, which made no sense to Jace. Who were these people?<br><br>Her quick green eyes caught sight of a man making his way down to the store. It looked like he was keeping to cover, and doing a rather good job at it too. <br><br>Despite being a drug dealing loser without any feeling, Jace was actually rather intelligent. With her being the only one in the Saloon taking any action, she had no chance against a whole group of raiders who were clearly better armed than herself. Her only chance was to get the hell out of there as fast as she could. It almost made her a little sad, knowing that she would have to save the fight for later. Saving her tears for later, she stood and ducked as fast as she could out the back door of the Saloon, leaving the bumbling fools inside to fend for themselves.<br><br>Just as she was about to sprint into the nearest direction out of town, large dirty hands grabbed her from behind and pulled her into a smelling body. Whoever this person was, they were clearly in need of a bath. "<strong>Well ain't you a pretty little thing.</strong>" The voice was crass, rough even, and rather loud. It was obvious this guy was not on her side. His rough groping hands made their way to one of her leather covered breasts.<br><br>All she could do was laugh a little. "<strong>Get your filthy hand off of me, Brahmin Fucker.</strong>" She slipped her hand behind her and between their bodies to get a good hold on his man parts through his pants, and she squeezed as hard as she could. Looking back, she could see the man's face turn beet red as his grip on her loosened and his mouth parted in a soundless cry. <br><br>She wiggled her way out of his grasps and quickly swapped her SMG for a silenced pistol of the same caliber. While he was falling to the ground in a fit of manly pain, she gave him two shots to the head with the silenced and gun. His body slumped to the dry ground, dead and still as red as could be.&nbsp; </span></div>
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