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Misthral's avatar

Shadowy Streaker

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                                                  See Twice as Farxxx Danger Sensexxx Die Hard

                                                  Location: Watchtower - Town EntrancexxxCompany: Alone. xxxWellbeing: Finexxx

                                                  OOC: Toby Leronexxx

                                                  Stella's afternoon and evening became exceptionally busy, despite already doing a full day of unpaid work. Not that she was complaining. Protecting the town was high on her list of priorities, and even if that wasn't the case, she was receiving free drinks. Along with her first drink, Shawn had handed her the town maps and the rights to make a decision on the newly acquired mines. However, Stella was quick to return to the other members of the retrieval party, since most of them had better knowledge on the subject of explosives. Eventually a decision was made and Stella returned the maps to Shawn and overheard the interrogation plans. It was very unlike Stella to stick her nose in other people's business, but it rapidly became clear that she strongly disagreed with their method. Not only were they planning to give the scum what he wanted, but they were going to take any information seriously. Eventually Stella shook her head and dismissed the debate by taking a bottle of Vodka back to her table. Then the rest of the evening went by quickly. Making plans, offering input and agreeing with the guard rota. She was going to be on the early morning shift, not much different to her previous critter poaching schedule. Stella retired to bed unusually early, for her at least, and claimed it was to prepare for the first shift.

                                                  Stella was up and ready to go long before her shift was due. Despite her new job given to her by Shawn and Lucien she didn't want to abandon her previous duty. So an hour or so before her watch shift, Stella hiked up to the pumping station and cleaned out a few geckos. Normally she would continue on to the mine, and then the town perimeter, but seeing as the mine was closed and no one was going in or out of town recently, there seemed to be little point. Dragging the few corpses back to town, Stella left them outside the back door of the Fission Hole, knowing Angus would find them shortly. She jogged to the makeshift watchtower, that was really just the flat roof of a building near the entrance to town, not wanting to be late. She arrived with seconds to spare and took over the watch. Allowing the night watchmen to head off to bed.

                                                  Despite the sun not yet being up Stella pulled off the upper portion of her leather armour. It revealed the plain white t shirt, adorned with a few holes and a ripped seam, that she wore underneath. She also discarded her shotgun on the heaped leather, and took her rifle in her hands. Then like all good watchmen, she found a comfortable perch and glued her eyes to the horizon.


                                                  Wearing: Reinforced Leather Armour [Legs], Ripped White T-shirt.
                                                  Packing: Hunting Rifle[Modded], Sawed-off Shotgun, Machete, Hunting Knife
                                                  Carrying: Canteen(Water), Stimpack [3]
Misthral's avatar

Shadowy Streaker

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                                                  Hackerxxx Mechanicxxx Presence

                                                  Location: Workshop // Town SquarexxxCompany: Alone // Meeting PeoplexxxWellbeing: Limpyxxx

                                                  OOC: EDITED - Sending Dean to the meeting. He can join up with his 'staff' then.xxx

                                                  Working on the final repairs in the power station had taken up most of Dean's previous morning. Well actually he had predicted he could finish all the repairs by late morning, but a few busybodies came to enquire about broken items and stock for sale. Every time Dean was forced to abandon the repairs and return to the workshop to deal with a customer's request, he did so politely and assured them it was no trouble. When really he was wondering why they didn't realise their needs were not as urgent as the power station. Eventually he was finished and decided to report to Shawn at the Fission Hole. Plus, since his only outstanding repair job had already come to see him in the morning, Dean thought it would be nice to take the rest of the day to relax. Unfortunately it turned out the Fission Hole was buzzing with activity as plans were being made to tackle an impending raider attack.

                                                  During the evening Dean was able to speak with Jamison. It was Shawn who'd introduced them, saying that Jamison had requested the use of a terminal. However Dean was far more interested in the floating eyebot that followed the stranded caravanner around. It had been a few years since his last encounter with an eyebot and even longer since he'd seen a fully functioning one that wasn't in need of repair. Dean watched the robot with fascination and agreed that Jamison could come to the workshop the next day and use the free terminal there. After that Dean took his new orders from Angus and headed back to the workshop. He wanted to have a quick look at the plans, and have a basic idea for what was needed before proceeding with the actual construction. This didn't take long and soon he was able to oversee the construction of a few blockades and more importantly the new watchtowers. Finally at the end of the day he decided on a dose of Med-X and an early night.

                                                  Dean was up at dawn, not as early as some people in the town, but first light was pretty good for him. Especially since he was so used to late nights and heavy work loads. After a quick shower, Dean sat down to breakfast and looked over the plans again. There was still a lot of work to do, but he had a good idea of where to start once his helpers arrived. They would need to focus on blockades to keep the sensitive areas protected. This included creating bottlenecks so that defenders could keep the number of raiders under control. Dean had already plotted out some ideas for such blockades to be placed near the watchtowers. Finally, with breakfast finished, he grabbed his crutch and headed out to the main square just in time for the 7am meeting.

                                                  Wearing: Merc Grunt Outfit [White Shirt, Dark Blue Pants]
                                                  Packing: 10mm Pistol [Modded]
                                                  Carrying: Med X [2], Crutch, Radio.
Tiny Red Bee's avatar

Enduring Regular

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                            Shawn Levesque

                            Smoothtalker xxxxxx Presence xxxxxx Fancy Footwork

                            [ Wellbeing ] Well enoughxxx[ Company ] Stellaxxx[ Whereabouts ] Watchtower - Town Entrance

                            Shawn was occupied from the Fission Hole for most of the remainder of the second day, making plans with Lucien and other present patrons. He contacted those among Falls Creek he knew were capable of taking on additional responsibility, such as the mine foreman. Shawn relied on Daniel to help at the bar when he was busy, since the waitress had taken over Angus' job in the kitchen while the mutant was out with Dean. With the change to routine, Shawn sent his employees home with a bottle of their favourite hooch and closed the bar down earlier than normal. Then he went to find Angus, lending his hands to the construction project for a couple hours.

                            Angus sent him back home before Dean had called a halt to the work, but Shawn understood. Reluctantly he returned to the Fission Hole and went up. He set the ancient alarm clock to go at five forty-five, then fell into bed and hardly moved until the jangle woke him up. Even so, it took Shawn ten minutes to actually rise, his head filled with cobwebs. Mechanically he readied himself for a new day, and when he lurched out of the bar several minutes later he was bright-eyed, clean-shaven and properly clad. He'd seen fit to arm himself before he'd left the Fission Hole, and in the satchel he'd thrown over his shoulder he had a few other supplies he wagered might be useful.

                            He stopped off at Stella's, but the person who answered the door was definitely not the redhead.

                            "Blondie. You're here early'."
                            "Valentine, right? Is Stella in?"
                            "She already left to get some hunting done, then she was on watch, I think."

                            She was smirking at him in a way that made Shawn distinctly uncomfortable. It wasn't lecherous, exactly--he could handle someone oggling him--but it was somehow knowing. But what did she know? "Well, I guess I'll go find her then. See you around town."

                            Valentine's smirk became a grin. "I'll be at the meeting later, you bet. Well, off you go!" She shooed him with her hands, and Shawn turned to walk away. He paused when felt eyes boring into the back of his... well, no, not his head. He flushed slightly as he glanced back at the tribal, who had cross her arms and was studying him intently. "Yeah, I guess I can see what she means when she says you've got a nice a**," she quipped, before she disappeared inside Stella's abode and shut the door with a snap.

                            What? The bartender exhaled sharply and marched off a moment later as quickly as he could, away from the house. He recalled the rota he and Lucien had drawn up--morning to afternoon, Stella was at the town entrance on the Western Side, by the barricades. When he reached the watchtower, he clambered up the wooden ladder to the rooftop and froze.

                            The blasted Valentine's words were still fresh in his ears, and Stella--well. He'd seen her in regular clothes plenty, but most of the time she wore leather armour, which wasn't exactly flattering on anyone. The close-fitting t-shirt, however, ripped here and there, had caught his attention. He tore his eyes away before she could notice his stare, and bit down on his tongue. Where was all that smooth charm when he needed it!? He could convince two raging alcoholics to calm down, drop their stools and have a drink on the house but when it came to Stella, he became a mumbling fool.

                            "Any movement yet?" Shawn asked, as he moved across the rooftop to perch beside her. "I can't stay too long, I should head down to the square for the meeting, but I can come back after and let you know what goes on if you'd like."


                            [ Wearing ] Merc Grunt Outfit & Leather Jacket
                            [ Packing ] .45 Auto, Lever-Action Shotgun, Combat Knife
                            [ Carrying ] [In Satchel] Cigarette Pack [1], Bottle of Whiskey [1], Bottle of Vodka [1], Bottle of Water [2], Stimpack [4]
                            [ Carrying ]2043B Radio, Cigarette Lighter, Henry's Pocketwatch, First-Aid Kit


                            [ OOC ] *Snerk.*
Misthral's avatar

Shadowy Streaker

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                                                  See Twice as Farxxx Danger Sensexxx Die Hard

                                                  Location: Watchtower - Town EntrancexxxCompany: Shawn xxxWellbeing: Finexxx

                                                  OOC: Toby Leronexxx

                                                  Creaking ladder rungs told Stella that someone was climbing up. Still relaxed she turned to see it was Shawn. She'd already worked out the climber was friendly, she would have spotted a raider using conventional methods of approach. Being flanked also seemed unlikely without the alarm already being raised. "Morning Shawn," she called while turning back to the horizon. She wasn't going to give those pesky raiders even the slightest chance to get past her. "Nope," she answered and budged up a bit to make room for Shawn. "Can do, or I'll be in the hole later," she answered him with a shrug. At that moment she expected Shawn to be on his way, but when the bartender didn't move she stole a glance his way. It was hard to tell, since she rarely tired to read people for anything more than hostility, but Shawn seemed worked up about something. She instantly put it down to the current predicament the town was in and decided no to dwell on the subject too much.

                                                  "Still a bit of time before that meeting though. I reckon you were after a bit of company," Stella nudged him playfully and laughed. If she had in fact outed his intentions he didn't seem to give it away, at least not in a way that she noticed. Still grinning Stella focused on the horizon, as she had done through the conversation so far. Silence ensued for a little while. Stella lacked a subject that didn't involve town preparations, and there was likely plenty of that to come. She glanced at Shawn again and noticed that for once he was carrying the shotgun from the bar on his person. "Expecting some action?" She asked casually, though she couldn't really picture Shawn being on watch, especially not with a shotgun. She'd abandoned her own on the roof because it lacked range. An idea crossed her mind and her face lit up with a grin. "You ever learn to fire a rifle properly Shawn? Here try it out." Without waiting for the bartender to refuse or agree, Stella deposited the bulky weapon in his hands. "Don't hold it like that, it won't bite." She teased, though it was probably surprise that caused Shawn to hold the gun like a live grenade.

                                                  Stella hopped up onto the perch and then dropped down backwards so she was standing behind Shawn's sitting position. "Might be a good skill to learn if we're to survive this. Rifles are good for taking out targets over a distance, but I'm sure you knew that. Not much requirement for long range in a bar though, eh?" She spoke while leaning over Shawn and manipulating his hold on the weapon until it appeared satisfactory. After a while she rested her head on his shoulder and spoke quietly into his ear. "There's a gecko just a bit to your left. Son of a b***h has been wandering up and down all morning, see if you can't waste it." She smiled and helped point out the meandering critter. Then leaning in close again she started to deliver some pointers.

                                                  Wearing: Reinforced Leather Armour [Legs], Ripped White T-shirt.
                                                  Packing: Modded Hunting Rifle [Lent to Shawn], Sawed-off Shotgun, Machete, Hunting Knife
                                                  Carrying: Canteen(Water), Stimpack [3]
ExcessivelyTimewise's avatar

Questionable Friend

ℚ Bץєяℓy
“I know now that there is no one thing that is true - it is all true.”
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The minefield incident hadn’t been entirely unpleasant, but he had bled oil in his boot and tried to hide the limp as best he could—no one said anything, which either meant three things: they were being polite, they were terribly unobservant individuals, or he was managing better than he originally thought.
By the end of that day, the oil was beginning to seep between the stitches that held his boots to their soles and formed miniature pools in the dust when he stoof in place too long—so he simply stayed on the move, and didn’t put too much weight on the leg when he did have to stand still.

After the task of burying the mines and noting their locations by degrees and latitude, Q spent what little time he had to himself in his rented room—repairing the previous day’s damage to his leg. The oil leak was an easy fix and the functionality had been restored to the ankle; at least to the point that he could walk without limping, that is. It took a lot of rewiring and a segment of surgical tubing to replace the torn portion of the ‘vein’ that kept his ankle and foot joints properly lubricated.
To properly repair it, he’d have to take the whole thing apart and he simply didn’t have the time for that.
He had it in mind to begin stitching the tears in the synthetic flesh and in the jumpsuit’s cloth until a knock at the door caused a sliver of panic to flash into and speed through his system. He’d certainly be found out and torn apart. What could he say to delay the imminent opening of that door? “O-One minute…please.”
Good, good. Simple, and to the point without making things awkward for either party.
Leaving the hole in the synthetic flesh, he cleaned his foot before wedging a small piece of gauze in the tear to prevent dirt from entering and interfering with performance. Boot, then wrap a bit of cloth bandage to close off the damage to the fabric and the footwear themselves, he instructed himself as he worked quickly.
Now, gloves. It was the last thing to slip on. Just as he stated, this all took place in a minute or so.
“I’m sorry…” He said, unlocking the door and opening it to the dimly lit hallway. He expected the visitor to be the particularly moody owner of the hotel, but instead the dim light did little to hide the shock of pink hair.
It almost threw him for a loop, but he stepped back and away from the doorway slightly to allow her to step in if she so wished. “Oh, it’s you…how went distributing the maps?”
Tiny Red Bee's avatar

Enduring Regular

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                            Valentine

                            Running Doesn't Effect Aim xxxxxx Fancy Footwork xxxxxx Survive Wound

                            [ Wellbeing ] Energetic!xxx[ Company ] Byerleywhirleyxxx[ Whereabouts ] Stella's >> Falls Creek Hotel

                            Valentine remained inert on the couch once Stella had risen, a reverse to their roles of the previous morning. Not so long after the redhead had departed, however, the tribal forced herself into a sitting position, then upright. With care, she unwound the injury on her shoulder, cleaned it as she'd been instructed to by those with medical know-how, then bound it anew. She refilled the basin she'd used with fresh water and dug a small tin out of her pack.

                            There was only enough handmade dye left for once use. Renewing the colour of her hair back to a deeper pink didn't take long. The shade wasn't excessively vibrant but it did the trick, evening the colour out and covering the roots. She rinsed and used a scrap of linen to towel off, and combed the damp mass back from her face. Valentine was in the midst of kitting herself out for the day when someone knocked at the door. Was it Jamison or Byerley? When she answered, she wasn't completely surprised to find the bar-owner on the stoop. After answering his query, she sent him on his way. The compulsion to assist Stella was too strong, and before she could help herself Valentine quipped somewhat him and shut the door. She snickered to herself, then went to find her boots.

                            She locked up as she left, and after a discreet look-about she slipped the key into a hole in the siding as Stella had privately instructed her. Valentine bounded down the rough roads of Falls Creek, taking a direct route to the Hotel. She hadn't exactly made plans to stop in on Byerley today, but she hadn't much else to do at this hour except get to the meeting. After that, she was signed up for a patrol for the remainder of the morning, then a watch in the afternoon. Valentine breezed past Missus Greene, at her armchair, of course, and went straight to Byerley's room. His muffled voice requested she give him a minute. When the jumpsuit-clad bloke opened the door, Valentine shot him a big grin.

                            "The maps are all taken care of. We pinned up one in the Fission Hole, the Sheriff's Office, at the High Rises, and one at the big message board at the Market Square. Oh, and good mornin, Byerley." She paused a moment before she said, "there's a town meeting at the Market not too long from now. I figure we should attend, if we're gonna be helping protect the place." She nodded to Byerley's assent, and waited at his door when he returned inside to retrieve his rifle and whatever else he might need during the day. She studied the hotel room, and noticed a dark splotch of... was that blood?! on the floorboards?

                            "Byerley? What is that?" Worry made Valentine's voice a mite sharper than she intended. That's when she noticed the similar tinge to his pantleg. Had he gotten hurt somehow? And I didn't even notice, she berated herself. Her hand dropped to her hip, where in a pouch opposite to her flashbangs she carried a couple of stimpacks. She withdrew one of the hypodermics. "If you're bleeding that much, why didn't you say something or go see a doctor?" she fretted as she advanced.


                            [ Wearing ] Riot Vest, Denim, Geckohide & Leather Piecemeal, Gasmask & Fresh Bandages
                            [ Packing ] Assault Carbine, 10mm Pistol, Brass Knuckles, Switchblade
                            [ Packing ] Flash Bang [4], Frag Grenade [5]
                            [ Carrying ] [In Geckohide Backpack] Cateye [2], Hydra [1], Med-X [2], Rad-X [2], Rad-Away [1]
                            [ Carrying ] Stimpack [4], Waterflask, Weapon Repair Kit, Bandages, Flashlight

                            [ OOC ] Oh no, mechano-man, whatever shall you do!?
Tiny Red Bee's avatar

Enduring Regular

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                            Shawn Levesque

                            Smoothtalker xxxxxx Presence xxxxxx Fancy Footwork

                            [ Wellbeing ] Well enoughxxx[ Company ] Stellaxxx[ Whereabouts ] Watchtower - Town Entrance

                            He chuckled when Stella's elbow connected with his midriff, unsure of what to say. When she noticed his shotgun, he shrugged and set it on a ledge provided by the half-wall that provided those in the tower with cover. "I figured this might be useful in case any raiders actually got inside our defenses," he explained. "And yes, I've fired a rifle, although Henry was more of a rifleman that I." Shawn even knew where he could get one of Henry's rifles, but he'd put off sorting through either his mother or brother's belongings. He hadn't the strength of will or the time to do such a task.

                            Maybe I should go get one, anyway.

                            He found himself being positioned in the confined space while Stella adeptly maneuvered herself behind him. She'd pressed the rifle into his hands, the wood and metal warmed from her grip, and Shawn shuffled up closer to the wall. He adjusted his hold on the weapon, brought it up as his father and brother had instructed him to, and shifted his stance. He was far too tense, and unable to relax. "Never even had to use the shotgun at the bar, honestly, although I've needed the baseball bat plenty and scared off some punks with my pistol. Or maybe it was Angus with two meat-cleavers that got them diving out the door, it was a while back." He was running his mouth, he knew, but it was a distraction from the fact that Stella was pressed in rather close, manipulating the angle of his arms and head with brief, deft touches that were nonetheless a little...

                            Maddening? He shook his head, as if to clear it. He forced his muscles to cooperate with Stella's adjustments, even as a light flush returned, for the second time this morning, to his cheeks. "Been a while since I did any shooting," Shawn muttered. Henry had been the hunter, and once he was gone Shawn had hired Stella to provide meat for the Fission Hole. The ex-mercenary seemed pleased with his posture, and he looked for the silvery-grey gecko. It had paused beside a clump of bushes, and was inspecting said plantlife. Shawn sighted: his first shot missed, but he shifted his arm and pulled the trigger a second time as he exhaled. Stella's voice in his ear was affecting his nerves, but he didn't give up. The gecko hadn't had time to sort through the threat before the second shot took it high in the back and it was sprawled in the dirt, lethally wounded if not outright killed. Its stubby limbs flailed, a little.

                            The bartender gazed disparagingly at the gecko. "If we didn't have to conserve ammo, I would ask you to help me practice some more. As it is, I'll stick to serving drinks." He smiled wryly and twisted about to proffer Stella her rifle.


                            [ Wearing ] Merc Grunt Outfit & Leather Jacket
                            [ Packing ] .45 Auto, Lever-Action Shotgun, Combat Knife
                            [ Carrying ] [In Satchel] Cigarette Pack [1], Bottle of Whiskey [1], Bottle of Vodka [1], Bottle of Water [2], Stimpack [4]
                            [ Carrying ]2043B Radio, Cigarette Lighter, Henry's Pocketwatch, First-Aid Kit


                            [ OOC ]
Max Burrows
Danger Sense xxxxxx Hyperesthesia xxxxxx Die Hard


[ Location ] Balcony ramp by Town entrance xxxxxx [ Company ] Near Stella and Shawn

[ Wearing ] Reinforced Leather Armor xxxxxx [ Carrying ] 10mm Pistol, Assault Carbine, Combat Knife, Ranger Helmet, Cigarette Pack


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Max stretched as he walked out of the Fission Hole. He proceed to continue his rounds. He wasn't fully informed of things, but he knew what he was hired to do and at this point that was all that mattered. He lit another cigarette as he walked. Cigarettes. He's been dodging bullets and explosives all his life. If those didn't catch up to him, the cigarettes just might...or booze. He continued walking and found a ramp going up into a public balconey, overlooking the town entrance right below. He looked over at the horizon as the hot breeze blew through him. Just a matter of time before that horizon reveals any pests. He heard a shot fire from his left from the tower next to him. He looked over to see Stella showing Shawn how to shoot. He wasn't one to be chauvinistic, but it did seem a little funny to look at. It was kind of like a woman showing a man how to play pool. He could kind of see where Shawn was more of an "employer", the one hiring mercenaries to do all shooting. Max exhaled. Whatever. Doesn't lessen Shawn's role in this town at the slightest.
ExcessivelyTimewise's avatar

Questionable Friend

ℚ Bץєяℓy
“I know now that there is no one thing that is true - it is all true.”
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“That’s good, I’ve had it in mind to refresh my memory of where they were, just in case.” He nodded quietly in response to the notion of attending the meeting. Might as well, Falls Creek was now their home too; whether they liked it or not.
The sudden shift of attention to something else…a spot; an oil spot, put him on edge instantly.

Damnit.
Of course he hadn’t thought to clean up the splotch of oil on the floorboards. He didn’t have time.
“I’m fine.” He protested, holding his hands up to indicate he didn’t want any of the stimpak that she was advancing on him with. “Valentine, I’m serious, I don’t need—”
Snick. The Sensory web indicated minimal damaged to his outter covering, the metal underneith hardly even scratched.
The hypodermic needle of the stimpak wasn't as fortunate, it was stopped by the underlying metal structures; effectively bending the needle and preventing proper delivery of what would have helped speed along the healing process.
At things froze; all he could think about was being lynched—whatever the hell tightknit communities did to outsiders who were human—his part scrapped and used in other robots or machines.
His AI destroyed…
In one fluid motion he shut the door and blocked off that venue of escape, hand holding the door shut before he looked back at Val.
She hadn’t made a single peep in those seconds, and seemed to be more puzzled by the damaged stimpak rather than frightened for her life.
His intense stare softened enough to accompany the quiet request. “Please, not a word to anyone about this.”
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                            Allison "Ally" Steele

                            Iron Fists xxxxxx Anything is a Weaponxxxxxx Fancy Footwork

                            Wellbeing Healthy xxxCompany Near Dean. xxxWhereabouts Hotel >> Town Square

                                            xxx
                                            xxx
                                            xxx
                                            xxxxxxAlly didn’t pay much attention when she heard footsteps entering the hotel and passing her room. Her head had only briefly looked to it just in case the visitor was going to stop at her room. Alas, the footsteps moved onward to the right and light conversation appeared to ensue. The blonde shifted her gaze back to herself in the broken mirror. Combing her fingers through her hair and adjusting her gear at her waist. Ever since Ally had arrived she’d worn her clean dresses everyday, she appeared to be a kind girl that never really seemed to be armed further than a shotgun at her hip. People probably thought she couldn’t even handle that given her innocent appearance. This was hardly from the truth, she had come from the wastes, and the woman clearly must have been able to fend for herself out in the dangerous wilderness. She never appeared particularly strong to the townsfolk though, which she didn't mind at all; appearing weak meant people wouldn't ask for her to help out as much around town. Even when she asked for work, all she’d ended up doing was pumping, bottling, and lugging water. Not that the job wasn’t important, it just wasn’t all that eventful. Missus Greene showed that she was stronger than she looked for her age, this impressed the young blonde, and the two women actually appeared to bond a bit during their work together. Missus Greene was a tough cookie, but Ally’s respectfulness must have gotten her on the elder’s good side, she’d even given her a free night’s stay at the hotel for helping out the town.

                                            xxxChecking her firearms once more, she turned and crossed the room toward the door. Sitting upon it’s head, leaned against the door, was a large sledgehammer; the last of her gear. Curving her nimble fingers about the wood, she hoisted the twenty-pound weapon off the ground and onto a holster on her back. She’d drilled a large metal plate into the side of the handle, which now clanked against a magnetic piece of the strap over her shoulder and cross her back. Ensuring the weapon was secure she made one last check to button her shirt high enough so as to hide the charm that lie about her neck then reached for the door.

                                            xxxImmerging from the hallway, she looked to her right to see a pink haired woman she’d seen around town talking to Q. The image was brief enough that she couldn’t even catch what was going on, as the door was suddenly slammed shut. Quirking a curious brow, she chose not to intrude, she had more important business to tend to.

                                            xxxHeading out to where she new she would meet Missus Greene, she smiled to the woman before she spoke, not even taking a moment to regard the strange look she’d surely get for being a small, weak looking woman suddenly decked out in gear and carrying a rather unorthodox weapon for her size on her back. People always had surprises.

                                            xxx ”Good morning, Missus Greene. I’m going to go to the town meeting and volunteer to help patrol. Is there anything you need on my way back, Missus Greene?”

                                            xxx The elder had mentioned that she would catch up for the meeting in a bit but also that nothing was needed from her at this time. And when Missus Greene mentioned something about her clothes, Ally smiled with a faint laugh.

                                            xxx “A girl’s gotta protect herself.”

                                            xxx The weapons all appeared worn (as any would in this wasteland world), with the exception of the two sheathes at either hip. The leather was clean and well tended too, it was clear the blades inside also must have been in just as good of condition. Moving to the door, she looked back after she’d opened it.

                                            xxx “I’ll see you there.”

                                            xxx The door was shut behind her and Ally moved out into the street. Reaching into her pocket, the girl produced a clothed bundle into her hand. Unwrapping it, a small yellow biscuit appeared in hand. Eating her small breakfast as she made her way down the street, she returned the cloth to her pocket.

                                            xxx When the young blonde arrived she noticed a man she hadn’t met just yet, Dean, and if/when they made eye contact the beauty offered a bright morning smile and faint nod his way. Moving away from the center streets, she instead took up post by sitting on a barely standing bench. Her right leg crossed her left at her knee and her fingers laced together upon her raised stifle.


                                            xxx
                                            xxx
                                            xxx

                                    Wearing Merc Charmer Outfit
                                    Packing Gladius (x2), flashbang (x4), sawed-off shotgun, laser pistol, sledgehammer
                                    Carrying Stimpaks (x2), locket
                                    OOC smile
Tiny Red Bee's avatar

Enduring Regular

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                            Valentine

                            Running Doesn't Effect Aim xxxxxx Fancy Footwork xxxxxx Survive Wound

                            [ Wellbeing ] Energetic!xxx[ Company ] Byerleywhirleyxxx[ Whereabouts ] Falls Creek Hotel

                            The tribal frowned. She'd not had time to consider why Byerley was trying to get out of the shot before she'd knelt, gripped his leg with her free hand and made to jab the Stimpack into his calf just above the bloodstain. Her intentions were only for the best, out of concern for an wounded new-found friend and the guilt she felt for not having noticed his injury earlier. When the attempt met with a strange resistance she snatched both of her hands back. Her gaze focused on the Stimpack's exposed tip--the needle was bent...

                            Her first thought was body-armour?, but she was distracted from further consideration as Byerley moved rapidly. He shut the door, and Valentine rose from her crouch, the Stimpack in one hand and her other clenched into a fist. She was wordless for a moment as her mind buzzed with confusion. If it was just body-armour, why was Byerley so distraught?

                            A cybernetic? Valentine wondered, but even that didn't quite seem to explain it. Something clicked into place and she looked, more closely, at the smear on the ground. When she scuffed at it with her boot, it smooshed around in a way she didn't expect, covering a small portion of the wooden floorboard smoothly and evenly. It looked like old blood, by the colour [not that she could tell, perfectly, in the dimness of Byerley's room], but it was slippery like fresh. No, not blood; more like oil? She met Byerley's gray eyes, and her own expression was appropriately serious. That shifted quickly to surprise at his request. Her pulse leaped in her throat.

                            "Tell anyone... what? And of course I won't, I won't say a word--but what about?" she asked in a hushed tone. Since he seemed to be so on edge, so unlike the Byerley she had been coming to know, Valentine moved slowly to put the bent Stimpack on a nearby dresser. It wouldn't be useful to her in that condition. "I don't quite understand, but I promise, I won't open my mouth to anyone. Not even Stella."


                            [ Wearing ] Riot Vest, Denim, Geckohide & Leather Piecemeal, Gasmask & Fresh Bandages
                            [ Packing ] Assault Carbine, 10mm Pistol, Brass Knuckles, Switchblade
                            [ Packing ] Flash Bang [4], Frag Grenade [5]
                            [ Carrying ] [In Geckohide Backpack] Cateye [2], Hydra [1], Med-X [2], Rad-X [2], Rad-Away [1]
                            [ Carrying ] Stimpack [3], Waterflask, Weapon Repair Kit, Bandages, Flashlight

                            [ OOC ]
ExcessivelyTimewise's avatar

Questionable Friend

ℚ Bץєяℓy
“I know now that there is no one thing that is true - it is all true.”
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Byerley froze, looking terribly anxious; things were going better than he had anticipated. Val certainly hadn’t reacted as if he were an abomination about to rip her to shreds. It left him hopeful as he lowered his hand from the took and stepped aside. “You’d do that for me?” He fell silent, considering his options before his flickering eyes were back on Val again.
Hypothetically speaking, the can of worms was already leaking its contents. One worm at a time, and there was no stopping it—might as well open it, as it had the same inevitable conclusion one way or another.
He wasn’t exactly sure how he could put it to avoid any adverse reactions on Val’s part, so he simply took off a glove and held that hand up—articulated, metal fingers splayed in the dim light.Without the long protective gloves covering the cloth bandages at his elbows- it was apparent that more than just a single injured, damaged rather, leg contained metal parts.In response to her question, he offered the first explanation that came to mind: an old dismissal from the Commonwealth.
"Nothing more than a talking toaster, really. I’m sorry…You should save this for someone it would actually work on.”
He said with a sheepish tone creeping into his voice as he reached for the stimpak on the dresser, gingerly bending the needle back to a more operable angle. When it seemed better off than it was a few seconds ago, he offered it back to her.
"I've spent years keeping that secret underwraps, I didn't want to be scrapped--although the more I think about it I think Shapiro knew."
And he took that to the grave with him, Q realized there was something in his mood that genuinely ached. If the old junk vendor knew, he didn't say a thing or bring it to any one's attention.

Q would have cried if he had the capacity to.

[[I will be disappointed if there are no suggestive eyebrow waggles from Ally when these to turn up at the meeting. XD]]
Misthral's avatar

Shadowy Streaker

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                                                  See Twice as Farxxx Danger Sensexxx Die Hard

                                                  Location: Watchtower - Town EntrancexxxCompany: Shawn. xxxWellbeing: Finexxx

                                                  OOC: Toby Leronexxx

                                                  Through the short lesson Stella was completely unaware of Shawn's discomfort. She just figured he was worried about shooting a rifle after so long, and making a fool of himself. "Its fine if you miss, no one's watching but me," she said before glancing around and then noticing Max, but decided not to mention her error. She gave one final pointer about the wind direction, and let Shawn take the spotlight. Truth was, she could see he knew the basics, but it was obvious he'd never had enough practise. When he missed the first shot, she offered another pointer and this time the gecko appeared to go down. Stella responded with a whooping noise and jumped back away from the wall. When Shawn passed her back the rifle, she pouted slightly. "I don't think you'd waste that much ammunition. Maybe we can arrange some target practice the next time a patrol of raiders breezes on through?" She offered with a serious expression, but that expression quickly broke down into a fit of laughter. She never was very good at keeping a straight face through a joke, especially after seeing the other person's reaction. "I know. Not smart and probably way too much pressure. Still I could talk to Dean." There was a brief pause when it seemed her message hadn't fully made its way to Shawn. "You know, see if he has some old BB guns in stock. We wouldn't be harming our chances if we practise with those. Could maybe get some other folk in town gun savy, heck knows we might need it."

                                                  Retaking her spot on the wall, Stella fixed her eyes on the horizon again. After a quick sweep she could see that nothing had changed for now. She also happened to notice that the fallen gecko was still laying flat on the ground. Stella nudged Shawn and pointed to it. "I reckon you got him good, shame the meat is gonna go to waste." She smiled as she thought about Angus and how happy he seemed to get when she returned with various critter meats for the kitchen. Her smile faded and she nudge Shawn again, "hadn't you better get a move on? You don't want to miss this meeting. I'll see you in the hole later." Without warning she leaned in and gave him a friendly peck on the cheek. Then she was gesturing for him to shoo.


                                                  Wearing: Reinforced Leather Armour [Legs], Ripped White T-shirt.
                                                  Packing: Modded Hunting Rifle, Sawed-off Shotgun [Stored], Machete, Hunting Knife
                                                  Carrying: Canteen(Water), Stimpack [3]
Jamison Hollow

See in the Dark xxxxxx Danger Sense xxxxxx Hacker

[ Wellbeing ] Tired, Crankyxxx[ Company ] EVAxxx[ Whereabouts ] Town


Jamison groaned as he pushed himself up at the shrill whistling of EVA, giving her a bleary-eyed look of annoyance. However, unlike an alarm clock of the past, she didn't have a button he could just press to shut her off. Well... she did, but then he'd have to reboot her whole operating system, so it was better to just do as she demanded. He sighed as he pushed himself out of bed and staggered over to the wardrobe, pulling on his Pre-War outfit, leaving the button-down shirt open and untucked over his white T-shirt. It was a sign that he was growing used to the place, even comfortable with it. He hadn't worn this outfit since Point Lookout.

Yawning, he motioned for EVA to follow him, pausing only briefly to reach into the Dustrunner's supplies and withdraw something for breakfast. He glanced at it for a moment and noticed the Fancy Lads Snack Cakes label. Shrugging, he stuffed the cakes in the box into his mouth, then washed it all down with a Nuka-Cola. Certainly not the ideal breakfast, but the caffeine would at least help him wake up more quickly. Not to mention, he had never been a fan of coffee, and there were few things in the desert that he could eat that were sweet enough to wake him up instantly. It was either that or ant meat or something. He'd take the cake. So to speak.

As he headed downstairs, he realized with an excited grin that he once again had access to a computer to play around with. Dean was a nice guy, and seemed to know his stuff. Jamison hadn't missed how the man had been eyeing EVA, and he was willing to let Dean toy with her if he wanted to. Jamison had indeed gotten her working, but while her AI was optimized, her chasis and hardware components were held together with duct tape, so to speak. Jamison was familiar with robots, naturally, but he had focused more on their computer systems than their hardware. EVA could definitely be improved upon, especially in terms of combat abilities, armor, weapons, and speed. But that could be addressed later. For the moment, he was enjoying the fresh morning air before the meeting. After all, it was likely to take a while.

*Wearing: Pre-War Parkstroller's Outfit
*Packing: Double-Barrel Shotgun
*Carrying: Bubblegum
Lucien Gray

Running Doesn't Effect Aim / Fancy Footwork / Smooth Talker

✚Vitals=[Optimal] space ☢Rads=[Negligible] space ★Stamina= [Rested]

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Through the rest of their meeting, the others might notice as Lucien became quickly more relaxed and stable after devouring the meal that had been painstakingly prepared for him. (One of the first lessons he had learned in the wasteland, free, good food was a hard to come by.) After a little while he became even more talkative, gladly involving himself in any planning he had to offer, and of course making jabs at Daniel, suggesting various methods of interrogating that did not involve reducing his face to a puddle of jell-o. Though Lucien thought a Good-Cop Bad Cop Routine might work, he also admitted he had very little experience when it came to interrogation of crazy people. When the actual interrogation came, he did voice his concerns about the legitimacy of the information provided to them. Sure, Information was information, but the drugged-up psycho could easily be lying or just clueless, would the bandits entrust their attack plans to one of their grunts? Not likely...
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------------------------------------------------
------------The Next Day----------------

Lucien stared down at the table in front of him, his eyes gazing over the assortment of firearms that he had laying down in a uncomfortably neat fashion. For several moments his eyes would pause on a particular piece, hands moving to pick it up and carefully inspecting every part of the gun before placing it down. Lucien had only shortly after waking up and attending to his hygiene started this process to ensure all of his weapons were clean and in working order. Some of the weapons had taken a bit of a beating in the last trip, and even though he had not used many of them the wasteland had a terrible way of dirtying up even the most well kept firearms. Once Lucien was satisfied with the condition of his guns, he began arming himself, strapping on the various holsters and belts that would conceal and secure his ballistics, making sure all of them were secure and examining the placement in a nearby mirror.

This was not a ritual that Lucien had done often since he moved into Falls Creek... for many of the years that he had inhabited Falls Creek, only a single pistol was needed, A concealed .45 was all Lucien needed to feel secure and know he was capable of defending himself... Lucien looked at himself in the mirror. Lucien had gotten some sleep, but the thoughts and plans that ran through his head often made sleeping difficult. Today was a big day, even if there was no Raider attacks, a lot was at stake, and so many things could go wrong.

Lucien finished strapping the last of his holsters to his body and filled them, taking both of his preferred sidearms with him, ensuring the safety on each gun was on before storing them in his preferred hiding place for easy and quick access. When Lucien was done, he checked himself over, and finally sheathed the blade he often carried, fastening it to yet another belt. With his gear in place, he made a quick check of everything he carried, everything was in place, secured, and what needed to be hidden, was. Lucien smiled to himself, looking at his appearance in the mirror... He looked worn-down even haven gotten rest recently, with his beaten up old armor he wore, several pieces stripped away for mobility, or just plain missing; it only had the effect of making him appear even rougher to the eyes. His features had relaxed slightly from before, and far more relaxed than the young soldier who was Lucien when he stumbled into town. Taking some time to manage his appearance allowed him to distract himself from his own thoughts... He combed his hair with his fingers, pulling the dark brown strands back over his ears before releasing a deep sigh. Once Lucien was done attending to his appearance, he walked to his door and left the building, opening the metal door of his small house and taking a couple moments to allow his eyes to adjust to the light.

Outside, it seemed like a fairly normal morning, from Lucien's door, he could see several of the townsfolk out and about. Even as he began to walk away from his door in the short trek to to where the meeting would be taking place, Lucien could already almost smell the sense of unease that lingered about the town, noting that many of the townsfolk also seemed prepared for an attack. He smiled, that kind of readiness was a good thing, another point towards the town's chances of survival. Lucien took his time wandering through town, figuring he had enough time to take his own time on the way to where the town meeting would be held. Lucien walked slowly through town, in time finding his way to the Pit. Lucien's body and brain hungered for coffee, and The Hole was Lucien's favorite place to get the stuff too. Once he got there, he would order a coffee, breakfast could wait for after the meeting, and once he was there he would wait, once again running over the plans in his head, only emerging when it was time to attend the meeting.




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Mood=[Relaxed, Rested, Rejuvenated] space Location=[TheHole] spaceCompany=[]


► Equipment
tabWielding: Weapons Holstered
tabWorn: Partial Combat Armor, Heavy Trench Coat, Fingerless Gloves, Belts, and Buckles, Bandoleers Galore
tabPacking: .45 Auto Pistols (1; Right Hip, 2; Concealed behind back) 10mm SMG (Holster; left hip) Sword (Sheathed On Belt Behind Back) R91 Rifle (Sling, right shoulder)
tabCarrying: Mags Galore (Bandoleers), Stimpack x4, Cantine Cigarette Lighter, Cigarette (1 pack)

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