Middle of Nowhere - A Fallout Survival RP [RP Underway!]

[ExcessivelyTimewise]

ℚ Bץєяℓy

“I know now that there is no one thing that is true - it is all true.”

Byerley paused, seeing only the shock of pink hair that sprouted from the side of the person’s head; if she hadn’t beckoned and called to him, he might have mistaken her for one of the raiders and drawn sights on her in preparation to fire.
He didn’t, however he still kept his distance. Eyes flickering like an old holotape film reel as he observed the thin almost-dissipated dust behind them. For all he could see, there didn’t appear to be anyone within easy range; there was movement out there, but he’d need a scope to pick the raiders off at that distance. Byerley lowered the rifle and walked closer to the injured group, eyes moving to the barricade from time to time. “I don’t know, the watchman did run past and was headed in the direction of the clinic. It is highly likely…perhaps we should meet him half way?”
Save for the man with the head wound, the ragtag group looked as if they were capable of walking. Despite their various injuries, moving away from the barricade would perhaps would be better than waiting there for the doctor, if the doctor was inclined to get that close to the barricade in the first place—no one else in their right mind would have cause to do so, if not a medic.

He should be more helpful himself, perhaps, especially if he wanted to last long enough to see the end of the siege and get to New Vegas in one functioning piece. “I can assist in moving the injured if needed, or stay behind in your place.” For a moment, it really didn’t matter if his manner of speaking was entirely different from the more localized accent of the townspeople. He didn’t detect much of a familiar accent within the pink-hair’s voice either, so it was likely she may be an outsider too and more likely to trust him than the others were. It was a good start and hopeful, at least.

He was beginning to miss the unwary human interaction that the old junk vendor had provided prior to his death, as everyone else strayed away or was unusually removed from any approach. Suspicion was generally unwanted, as it could lead to snooping and snooping generally lead to discovery. There was no telling how a tiny backwater place under immense pressure would react, anyway.

[[Eh? EH? Picture's better? y/y?]]

[GeeGeeGoJayBee]

Daniel Boudreaux

Smooth Talker xxx●xxx Allurexxx●xxx Fortune's Choosen

[ Wellbeing ] Alright xxx [ Company ] Bar goers xxx [ Whereabouts ] Fission Hole


Daniel listened intently to the radio as he sipped on his scotch. He attempted to appear not too interested in what was going on. He feared that if he did so it would become apparent how tense the situation made him. It was slightly sad that the old man Pascal was dead, or at least dying, but that didn’t concern Daniel too much, he hardly knew him. Daniel was more concerned about the people who were chasing him. He assumed they were raiders, and that probably was a smart guess. The raiders seemed to be getting more daring and that was concerning. He had foolishly hoped that the raiders would eventually get bored and kind of wander away or something, maybe find a new town to harass. They seemed incredibly determined to have Falls Creek, if they weren’t trying to kill him and everyone else he would admire that kind of determination.

When the lights went out Daniel briefly let go of his façade. [********] he said as he jolted and looked around the bar. He quickly regained his composure. He knocked back the rest of his scotch. ”Well, s**t,” he said in a much cooler tone than previously ”ain’t that just peachy.” Daniel took one final drag off of his cigarette and then stubbed it out in the ashtray. He looked around the bar. It was very apparent that he was probably one of the least qualified people to handle the situation. “One of you rough types better go fix that.”




[ Wearing ] Well Heeled Gambler Suit
[ Packing ] Silenced .22 Pistol [1], Switchblade [1]
[ Carrying ] Deck of Cards[1], Pack of Cigarettes[1]

[ OOC ] This post is so short. I'm so sorry. It's shorter than I intended.

[Redneck Messiah]

Penny


Lockpicker xxx●xxx Hackerxxx●xxx Move Silently


[ Wellbeing ] Fine ... xxx [ Company ] Alone ... xxx [ Whereabouts ] Home ...

Under normal circumstances, she'd be all over the house checking her windows and praying to find some low life raider trying to get too close to the town. But this wasn't a normal circumstance. In fact, it was a lazy circumstance. She was doing something that most teenagers would do. She was sleeping in.

But that all changed as soon as she heard Pascal's voice screaming on her radio. She was up and looking out her window that faced the station in a matter of seconds. "Bloody hell ..." She could see the shadows moving into the station. She only caught sight of two bodies entering the station. That was about the time that the voice stopped and not but a few seconds later the lights flickered all over town.

It took her all of five minutes to dress herself, grab her two hand guns and her rifle. She was out of her house and charging towards the gates that led directly to the station. At the gate, she stopped. The rifle slid off her shoulder as she took a knee and, like artwork, she was in position to let rounds fly. But right now all she was doing was looking. Not at the station, but beyond it. If the raiders weren't as stupid as they made themselves look, this would be the perfect opportunity for an ambush on the town's folk.

When she was satisfied that there was no immediate danger between the gate and the station, she radioed in. "Hey guys! Penny here. I'm going to go check out the station. So if anyone wants to come with me they need to catch up! Penny out!" And just like that, her rifle was back on her shoulder and she was making her way to the station's back door.

Penny isn't an idiot. Quite the contrary. If Pascal was on his radio, then when he bit the big one, his radio would still be on. So the baddies inside the station would have heard that she was on her way. Sure enough, the first to check on her claim, and obviously the most stupid, died as she unloaded two entire clips of her pistols into the doorway just as he was coming out.

She slid to a stop so she could get her aim and started squeezing triggers. When she was clicking instead of firing, she popped her clips and reloaded. Then she started running. There was a ladder on the side of the station that worked it's way to the roof. She was on top and out of sight before the second raider decided to brave the dangerous outdoors.

Just to taunt the baddies inside, she cackled over her radio. "Heheh ... One down ..."

[ Wearing ] Modified Merc Charmer Outfit
[ Packing ] Silenced .22 x2, Suppressed Sniper Rifle
[ Accompanied ] ...

[ OOC ] ....

[Bog Lord]

Raiders!

All of the raiders Penny spotted seemed to have something in common, linking them all to the same group. They wore piecemeal armour that had seen better days if they wore anything at all--one dashed about in a wrap made out of an old tarp! They had little hair on their heads and their eyes were wide; they blinked far too much. They spoke in almost a babbling tongue to each other, hard to decipher, but they appeared to understand each other.

Each one carried some sort of weapon. Only a couple of them had handguns, but most hefted makeshift bludgeoning weapons or knives. Their movements were jerky and spastic--like they couldn't, quite, control their own muscles. They wove erratically rather than moving in a straight line and whipped their heads around, seeking the young woman, but she was out of sight and, soon, out of mind. Several more of the raiders emerged from behind other buildings not far from the power station, and ran helterskelter for the entrances to the station.

All raider groups had a name, be it self-proclaimed or something others labelled them. The twitchy men and women Penny could observe were called the Madmen, known for their fearlessness and savagery--they were without reason when they went on a raid, since they were always hopped up on Psycho and other chems. Up close and in large numbers, they could be quite dangerous.

And some of them were in the power station. The radios surged with noise once more, but Pascal didn't speak. Instead, somebody else said, "whozzat? Whozzat? Ohhhh gonna' be a flash gonna be a flash gonna be a big ********' flaaaash!" Then they cackled until they ran out of breath.

[Ivory Hayze]

Elijah Krieger

Hacker xxx●xxx Lockpickxxx●xxx Anything is a Weapon

[HEALTH] Peak Condition xxx●xxx [COMPANY] A whole lot of raiders xxx●xxx [LOCATION] Power Station

Eli swore as he heard Pascal over the radio. He stepped away from the bar and started pacing. This was a trap, he just knew it. He looked up and made his decision. Falls Creek was his home. Eli may be a hired gun most of the time, but he would always protect his home. He looked around the bar and frowned. "I'm going to the power plant" he stated, keeping his voice calm.

He let out a sigh when Penny came on the radio shortly after. So other people were going to show up. He didn't know how many, but he knew the entire town couldn't go. They needed someone to defend the other areas of town in case the raiders took the opportunity while they were distracted.

Eli had to hope that the others would realize this in time. He was going to the power plant. He placed the caps for his drink on the counter, stepped outside, and lit up a third cigarette. At this rate he was going to go through both packs he had on him by the end of the day. His first goal was to make it to the power station.

He hurried his way across town, making sure not to use to much energy in the transit. He first stopped by his house, making sure to collect a few Stimpaks and Med-X, as well as his shotgun and ammo for it. He slung his shotgun over his back and carried his assault rifle in his hands, ready to use it if need be. The chems and ammo he stored in the bag hanging at his side. Departing his home, Eli started moving towards the power station

[APPAREL] Piecemeal Armorxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
[WEAPONS] Assault Rifle, Combat Shotgun, Bladed Gauntlet (2)
[OTHER] Ammo, Stimpak (3), Med-X (2), Pack of Cigarettes (2), Lighter

[Bog Lord]

Valentine


Running Doesn't Effect Aim xxx●xxx Fancy Footwork xxx●xxx Survive Wound


[ Wellbeing ] A lil' bloodiedxxx[ Company ] Caravan Members & Qxxx[ Whereabouts ] West Blockade

The mercenary nodded and contemplated his suggestion. She was surprised for a moment at the stranger's quickness to offer assistance. The people of Falls Creek were rightfully wary of outsiders, even caravans. Valentine didn't remember his face from her last visit, although that was pretty reasonable--Falls Creek was small, and while she had visited Stella several times over the last couple years, she certainly hadn't met everybody.

Tentatively, she shifted her shoulder. Immediately, Valentine experienced a fresh wave of pain, concentrated on what was likely a tiny shard embedded in the soft tissues. I can't lift my arm like this... if these barricades are hit, I won't be any good. It's not even noon and we're tapped out. Just not our day. That sealed it; they would move further into Falls Creek and hopefully meet the doctor, and the watchman, on the way. Alcana could help them further to his clinic, and the watchman could take up his post again.

She was going to need this strangers help. Or, as she was mentally calling him, 'Jumpsuit.' She might learn his name, she might not, but it would do.

"I think you're onto something there, Jumpsuit. I'm sure the doc'll come, but it won't do us any good to lay about here. I'm Valentine, from A.Pex Mercenaries. That gent over there is Garen, one of my co-workers." And that was it. Of the four of them from A.Pex, only she and Garen had come out of that minefield. She kept away from her grief, since now was not the time to dwell on losses. Valentine glanced at Rickie, the official caravan master. The older woman was coated in dust and bloodspray, and while she was paying attention to the conversation it didn't seem like she was going to interrupt Valentine's dealings with Jumpsuit. Valentine took that as agreement to what she was organizing.

"Garen, you help Nadia." Her fellow Wasteland warrior moved to aid the trader with a broken arm to her feet. He had to half-carry the dazed woman. Valentine spoke next to the youngest of the traders, a boy no more than sixteen who was miraculously unharmed. "Sadeson, guide the brahmin in with us. We'll find them a pen later. Rickie..."

"I can help carry Trev, but not on my own. I'm just bruised." The caravan master moved to Trev, the man who had a head injury, then she glanced at Jumpsuit. "How do you want to do this? One of us under each arm, or one take his shoulders and the other his feet?"

Valentine left Jumpsuit and Rickie to manage Trev, and went to retrieve her backpack. She slung it over her uninjured shoulder after she tied her assault carbine to the side with straps intended for that purpose. Sadeson was coaxing their two brahmin. The two were much calmer now, although one was definitely slower and made unhappy sounds. Garen was already starting down the road with Nadia.

She studied Jumpsuit. She would have to ask Stella about him later.

[ Wearing ] Riot Vest, Denim, Geckohide & Leather Piecemeal, Gasmask
[ Packing ] Assault Carbine, 10mm Pistol, Brass Knuckles, Switchblade
[ Packing ] Flash Bang [4], Frag Grenade [5], Frag Mine [4], Gas Bomb [1], Cherry Bombs [6]
[ Carrying ] [In Geckohide Backpack] Cateye [2], Hydra [1], Med-X [2], Rad-X [2], Rad-Away [1], Stimpack [4]
[ Carrying ] Merc Charmer Outfit, Merc Veteran Outfit, Waterflask, Water Pistol, Sleeping Bag, Maps
[ Carrying ] Hemp Rope [25ft], Weapon Repair Kit, Bandages, Flashlight

[ OOC ] Limp your way to safety!

[thepoisonedmuffin]

ooooooooLilianaScarletCarson

xxxxxx

Presencexxx●xxx Running doesn't effect aim xxx●xxx Stealthy

| Health | Unharmed | Energy | Rested | Chems | None
| Location| High Rises

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Liliana was smoking her cigarette, trying to ignore people as she waited for her meal. She wasn't particularly hungry, but it felt customary to eat after you had woken up. Crowded places always seemed to annoy her. Well just people in general. She worked for them but it didn't mean that she would have to like them. As long as they held up their end of their bargain and left her alone, she wouldn't make a fuss. She tried to not attract trouble or even start a fight, at least when she was stuck in a town she couldn't leave without risking her own life. So making any trouble wouldn't be in her best interest. She was one of the lucky few to get one of the three stools at the bar. A few people lingered around the bar, ordering their drinks and some took the tables that were around the room. The prewar music was playing out of a Jukebox that the bar had. Tapping her finger to the tune, it helped drown out the sound of people's chatter. She kept massaging her temples and took another drag from her cigarette. Resting her left hand on the bar, she returned to her light tapping.

As she exhaled the smoke from her lips, a radio in the room picked up someone's transmission. "They're here! They got the doors open! They're coming down the hallway to finish me off--hurry, they know I'm here, oh, help, somebody help! I saw at least six--" The voice on the other side cut off. There was an eerie silence to the room. The only sound she heard was the song playing still on the jukebox. It was like a friend that didn't take the hint to be quite and understand awkward situations. Someone who she recognized, only because of he was always wearing some suit of the sorts, was the first person to speak and break the silence. She quickly stubbed out the remainders of her cigarette and briskly walked to the cabinet that held her weapon. Opening the doors, she took out her pistol and holstered it.

Once out the door she made her way to her room at the hotel. It was only a quick walk from the bar but she didn't take her time getting there. She passed people, talking about the transmission and what could happen to Fall's Creek. Aside from a few words she didn't hear anything vital. Panicking people spoke in panicked tones and over exaggerated things. It was most likely a small band of bandits harassing the town to let them know they were still a threat. As if being unable to walk out the safety of the barricades without being shot or chopped to pieces weren't enough. She wanted nothing more then to find the leader and put a bullet between his eyes. It was troublesome note that the bandits somehow got their plans from some form of a leader. And she even heard that there were more then one band of raiders. Not knowing if they were in communication or even liked each other. If they did, why were they taking their time? Having a bit of fun with their prey before going in for the kill most likely.

Liliana was quickly in her room and didn't bother to close the door that lead to the hall behind her. Reaching underneath her bed, she pulled out her rifle. Checking the clip and scope to see that there was no damage to it, she set it on the bed. In the dresser that the room provided she stored her extra ammunition and the six shot, .357 Magnum. The sound of a few extra shells rolled around as the drawer swung open. Taking as much ammo as she could carry, the spare holster she had for her revolver and the revolver itself, she closed the drawer. Picking up her rifle, she headed out of her room, closing it behind her. She walked quickly through the house and made it outside. With the little bit of knowledge she had of this town she thought of the best place to set up a clear line of vision. The Power Station was beyond the hill that the High Rises were on. That would be her best bet.

She held her rifle with both hands as she started to run at sprint to the High Rises. It was times like these she regretted smoking since once she got there she was out of breath. Her chest took lungfuls of quick bursts of breath and her throat felt even more on fire. The shot she took earlier was starting to upset her stomach. Looking for a place to find cover and fire from. Finding a quick place that overlooked the power station. Unlocking the stands from the barrel of her rifle, she got into a prone position. Looking through her scope she could see some people moving around the building down below. They were dressed in some sort of makeshift armor, some weren't even in real armor but some kind of blanket. ''One. Two. Three four five.'' she whispered as she took a quick count of the heads she saw, Liliana clicked the safety off. Her index finger rested on the trigger and with her scope she took aim. The reticle of her scope was aiming at one of their heads. Usually it was safer to go with a chest shot, it was a larger target and it would be easier to aim at. It was also a lot less messy. Though she didn't mind the gore, and it was usually easier to confirm a kill you put a hole in someone's head the size of a fist. Before she took the shot, she rechecked the her sights. Making sure to judge the distance and if there was any wind. Though she wasn't too far away. It wasn't like it would matter that much. So she squeezed the trigger. The rifle kicked into her shoulder and a subtle pop rang in her ears. The first raider fell, she tried to make sure that he wasn't near any of the rest. She could see parts of his skull break off his head and his body fall like a ragdoll.

|Wearing| Wasteland Wanderer Outfit, Eyepatch, Gloves, Scarf, Belt with pouches
|Packing| Sniper Rifle [Suppressed], 9MM Pistol, .357 Magnum, Switchblade [2], Combat Knife, Straight Razor
|Wielding| Sniper Rifle [Suppressed]
|Carrying| Pack of Cigarettes [1], Cigarette Lighter, Lockpick [5], Stempacl [3], Med-X [2], Rad-Away [2]

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[RainboWTF]

ⓜ ⓐ ⓡ ⓖ ⓡ ⓔ ⓣ ➲ ⓚ ⓔ ⓔ ⓝ ⓛ ⓨ

▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄

Hyperesthesia • See in the Dark • Mechanic

[ WELLBEING ] Feelin' Good .....xxx[ COMPANY ] The Raiders, and whoever else is goin' up against 'emxxx[ LOCATION ] The Power Plant

Margret frowned at the sudden burst of noise from Shawn's hip. As he turned it up, the bar went silent. The only other noise was from the jukebox spilling out music in the corner. She set down her drink as Pascal's voice cut off into static and the lights in the bar went dark.

Daniel's was the first voice out of the darkness, and she responded with grumbled string of profanity. She finished off her drink, set down some caps, and followed Eli out. She may have been old, but that wouldn't keep her out of a fight.

She found herself back at the hotel. Missus Greene was outside, and the minute Margret stepped up the old woman was barraging her with questions. The old ghoul sighed,"Now, Missus Greene, don't you worry. We're gonna get the power back up."

Even as Margret hurried into the building she could still hear Missus Greene grumbling behind her. She stepped into her room and pulled out one of the dresser drawers. It wasn't a tall dresser, but it was wide. Wide enough for her to use one of the drawers to house her weapons. A pistol, and an old Hunting Rifle. It was in terrible condition, but it got the job done. She stuffed them both with as much ammo as they could hold and clipped the pistol to her belt.

As she approached the power station she took cover, and watched as one of the raiders took a shot to the head and collapsed. Good. There's someone else. She thought as she cocked her rifle. She hesitated, though to watch them. They looked jumpy, and probably drugged up. They didn't even look like an organized group. One of them was just wearing what looked like a sheet! She scowled, taking count and readying herself to rush forward.

[Misthral]

● See Twice as Farxxx● Danger Sensexxx● Die Hard

Location: The Fission Hole // Power StationxxxCompany: Bar Goers // CraziesxxxWellbeing: Fine // Leg Gashxxx

OOC: Brax wanted me to describe what it was like inside. Everyone else can walk in the front door if they want to see the lights xDxxx

Stella took a mild interest in the bar filling up. Most of them were outsiders, though she would have talked to the Old Man, if he'd gotten a spot at the bar. Instead, she became far more interested in Shawn's offer, it wasn't often she was permitted to help herself. Not that permission stopped her. "Will do," she said enthusiastically, grabbed her rifle and headed around to the server's side of the bar. She soon found an open bottle of vodka, poured herself two glasses, and went to lean against the end of the bar. Someone else could have her seat. She was going to have these two shots and then go out and check on the roads again. However, just as the red haired woman was about to shoot down the last shot, Shawn's radio stopped her. She listened with a fairly blank face, and then the lights went out.

"Well ********] she said, almost conversationally, then swallowed the last vodka shot. Without waiting to see who else would leave, Stella picked up her rifle, slung it over her shoulder and headed for the door. Glad for the tiny bit of light coming in through the grimy windows, she'd hate to step on someone's toes. "There better be a big drink waiting for me when I get back." Though she directed this comment at no one in particular, it was obvious it was meant for Shawn. Being local meant that Stella knew exactly where to head to, though she wasn't about to rush in either. Stella paused as the power station came into view. Squinting, she could make out the forms of several raiders, maybe five. But the guy on the radio had said there was six, either he was wrong, or there was more inside. Suddenly a raider's head exploded, and Stella could see that others from the bar were moving into taking out the raiders. Personally Stella was more interested with getting inside as soon as possible. Maybe the poor b*****d who'd given them the warning was still alive. Maybe, but it was doubtful. Circling around, Stella headed for the end of the building away from where the raiders were being drawn off to. The others were more than capable of taking care of themselves, they had to be. Still when she reached the back door, it opened and out came another of the raiders. First thing Stella noticed was this raider didn't have a gun, actually she could hear very little gunfire. But he was covered in an assortment of blades and sharp edges, and he looked bat s**t crazy.

"Come and get me then," Stella said out loud, suppressing the urge to roll her eyes. She'd seen her far share of chem crazies, not a unpredictable bunch. As he drew his weapon and raced forward, Stella slung her rifle back over her shoulder, reached down and pulled the shotgun off her hip and took out his knee. She then kicked him in the face and headed for the door he'd left open. There was another raider inside, she'd expected more. But chem crazies weren't exactly smart. As if to live up to her assessment, the lone raider turned around, revealing a time bomb strapped to his chest. "The lights are coming, they're coming to. get. YOU." The bomber almost shrieked his message, or warning, whatever that was. But it was warning enough for Stella, she got out the open doorway as fast as she could. The bomb was not a powerful one, but it made her ears ring. It also sent some shrapnel her way, causing a gash to open on her left leg. It could have been worse, certainly nothing the doctor couldn't handle. They probably couldn't say the same thing about Pascal, or that raider.


Wearing: Reinforced Leather Armour
Packing: Hunting Rifle[Modded], Sawed-off Shotgun, Machete, Hunting Knife
Carrying: Canteen, Stimpack [3]

[ExcessivelyTimewise]

ℚ Bץєяℓy

“I know now that there is no one thing that is true - it is all true.”

Byerley tilted his head curiously at being called jumpsuit. It was indeed what he was wearing but he wasn’t sure if she was addressing him or the article of clothing. Should he call her ‘pink hair’? It seemed entirely inappropriate to do so after she had just introduced herself.

“There would be less chance of making the injuries worse if we were to support him with our shoulders.” He wasn’t a medical professional, nor did he understand the exact nature of the man’s injuries. He looked terrible; Shapiro had looked terrible too—for a moment, Byerley wondered in the man would live. If he wouldn’t, it would be best to move him elsewhere and then bury the corpse as opposed to seeking medical attention and wasting supplies. However, there was also a slim chance the man could survive—probability chimed—so Byerley helped brace the nearly-unconscious man before making sure to step in time with the other man in an attempt to make their retreat all that much more speedy. He glanced over the Valentine. If they were going to be on a name basis of any kind, she could use updated information as he was certain he wasn't the only person in Falls Creeks that wore a jumpsuit of any kind.

“Byerley, by the way.”

[[So damn short, sorry.]]

[Redneck Messiah]

Penny


Lockpicker xxx●xxx Hackerxxx●xxx Move Silently


[ Wellbeing ] Fine ... xxx [ Company ] Alone ... xxx [ Whereabouts ] Home ...

Penny had her rifle out and was about to take aim when the floor shook under her feet. It only lasted for a second, at best, but it was there none the less. A sure sign that something had happened inside the building. She took one more look out around the station form the roof and sighted up her rifle. She didn't bother to take down the raiders who had melee weapons. They weren't a threat to her. What would they have done? Thrown a baseball bat in her direction?

She caught one of the lugs in the heart. A square shot if she'd ever seen one. The raider stopped for a moment, looked down as if it were trying to figure something out, and then fell forward on his face. It almost looked comical. She smiled and then turned around heading for the roof access. The small latch was locked. "Ha!" She mentally chided to herself. They were trying to keep her out? Nonsense. They should know this stuff doesn't work.

She was through the lock in a matter of seconds. The hatch was open and she shouldered her rifle to exchange it for a handgun. She looked down into the room and waited for a moment. When she was satisfied there was no movement, she jumped down. Her feet hit the floor with a thud and she rolled to her right coming up with her single pistol at the ready.

She moved through the second floor of the station like a mouse. Her tiny feet made barely a noise and she was so quite you could hear a pin dropping in the same room she was moving through. She came across one raider. A big ugly fella. She was in a pretty good mood today and the raiders only made it better. They gave her a chance to exact a little revenge. So she decided to have a little fun with this one. She shot him twice in the chest only for the burly brute to get angry.

"Uh ohh ..." As soon as she said the words the raider was looking at her with wild eyes. His head was jerking but he somehow managed to keep his line of vision on her. He was carrying a rather large looking bladed weapon of sorts. And he was pissed.

The raider shot at her with a speed that was certainly not normal for his size. Drugs had that effect. It was all she could do to roll out of the way and come back up with her gun ready. But as soon as she began to raise her arm her gun was slapped away by a meaty hand. She squeaked and fell back only to be grabbed by the cuff of her collar and hauled into the air.

The raider spoke but it was odd wording. His breath was the worst kind of foul. "Fun. Fun fun fun! Me have fun!" The large beast licked his lips and then looked Penny over. "Lots of fun ..." He shoved her back against the wall and started laughing.

The laugh was cut short and turned into a gurgling gasp. Penny fell from the loosening grip and watched as the man fell backwards grabbing at his throat. She had pulled her second pistol and sent a single shot through the soft parts of his neck. "Not very nice, were you." She found her second pistol and started her journey to the first floor once again.

[ Wearing ] Modified Merc Charmer Outfit
[ Packing ] Silenced .22 x2, Suppressed Sniper Rifle
[ Accompanied ] ...

[ OOC ] ....

[Bog Lord]

Shawn Levesque


Smoothtalker xxx●xxx Presence xxx●xxx Fancy Footwork


[ Wellbeing ] So far, so good...xxx[ Company ] Angusxxx[ Whereabouts ] The Fission Hole // Town Roads

Shawn responded to danger swiftly most of the time--there was no such thing as a slow coal miner, you were either quick with your wits and your reactions or you could end up crippled or dead. But he hesitated; what could he even do? He was no trained trigger-happy mercenary, not like Stella or Liliana or Eli. He knew how to handle the firearms he owned, and he'd participated in a few shoots outs [and plenty of melee brawls], but the situation at the power station...

He resisted the urge to bolt after his customers as they left, one by one, to answer the call. "Come back safe," he murmured under his breath. His anxiety didn't dissipate, however. I'll only get in the way at the power station. But what if it's a diversion? It wouldn't be the first time a raider attack had seemed focused on one part of Falls Creek, only for more of the maniacs to descend upon an unprotected quarter. I have a radio, just a quick look around for any more trouble. Shawn began to untie his apron, exchanging it for the leather jacket hung up on a hook nearby. From beneath the counter, he withdrew the lever-action shotgun his father had used. It hadn't seen much action lately, but with the recent threat Shawn had had Dean take a look at it to make sure it worked.

The bartender looked at the remaining customers, then settled on a person in suit at one of the tables. Yes, he would do a decent job. "Daniel," he called, "could you do me a favour and mind the bar while I'm out? Just let people know we're closed, but they're welcome to come and sit, and coffee, Nuka-Cola and beer is on the house while I'm gone. I'm just going to go for a walk-about with Angus, check in on things."

He didn't want to waste time waiting on a response. If Daniel didn't want to step up, it wasn't the end of the world. Shawn nodded to the Old Man and Dean as he left the bar counter and headed into the kitchen. Angus was fidgety.

"Get your flamer, buddy, and follow me." Shawn didn't have to stand around for long. Angus quickly had the tank on his broad back and the almost tiny-looking flame-spewing weapon held in his enormous fists. The pair headed out through the back door, and began to make their way North towards the burned-out remnants of the old Sheriff's Office--almost exactly the opposite direction and position of the power station.

[ Wearing ] Bartending Outfit & Leather Jacket
[ Packing ] .45 Auto [1], Lever-Action Shotgun
[ Carrying ] [In trouser & apron pockets] Cigarette Pack [1], Rad-X [2], Stimpack [2], 2043B Radio, Cigarette Lighter, Henry's Pocketwatch

[ OOC ] Yeah, the guy in a suit is probably a good pick than the jerk with a hungry dog, right? ;D

[GeeGeeGoJayBee]

Daniel Boudreaux

Smooth Talker xxx●xxx Allurexxx●xxx Fortune's Choosen

[ Wellbeing ] Alright xxx [ Company ] A diminishing number of bar goers xxx [ Whereabouts ] Fission Hole


Daniel watched the various foolhardy gun toting fast shooting folk siphone out of the bar. He thought it was rather silly how daring they were but they were better equipped to handle these sort of situations then he was. He hoped that this little skirmish would be quickly resolved and he could go back to his fairly boring day. He didn’t really feel like spending the rest of his day hiding in fear of some jack a** raiders.

He was lighting another cigarette when Shawn called to him. He took one long hard puff before answering the other. “Sure I can do that for you Shawn,” he said with smoke billowing out of his mouth. Shawn was too busy to hear his response. ”You stay safe, friend,” he yelled as the other disappeared into the kitchen, none of his words carrying much weight or meaning.

There was a small feeling of fear and anxiety in the pit of Daniel’s stomach. He decided that it would be a good idea to grab his weapons from the check in. He thought that this was the kind of situation where it would be okay to roam around the bar with your guns. He didn’t think anything would go down at the bar but he at least wanted the ability to defend himself if it ever came down to that. Once he had gotten his gun he made his way over to the bar, taking his suit jacket off along the way. He laid his jacket down on one of the bar stools thereby, in his mind anyway, reserving that seat for himself later. If he was going to watch the Fusion Hole then Goddamn it he was going to sit at that bar later. He put his gun on the bar and rolled up his sleeves.

The first order of business, well the only order of business really, was to get himself a drink. He didn’t think Shawn would mind or even notice if Daniel got himself a scotch on the house. Daniel was doing him a favor, at least that’s what he told himself. He took a long drink of the scotch while he spoke to himself softly ”I’m too old for this raider bullshit.”





[ Wearing ] Well Heeled Gambler Suit
[ Packing ] Silenced .22 Pistol [1], Switchblade [1]
[ Carrying ] Deck of Cards[1], Pack of Cigarettes[1]

[ OOC ] Free beer for everyone!

[Jaydine]

Roxanne Roulette

Fortunes Chosen xxx●xxx Fortune Finderxxx●xxx Smoothtalker

[ Wellbeing ] Healthy xxx [ Company ] Daniel & anyone in the bar.xxx [ Whereabouts ] The Fission Hole

Somewhere in a submerged fog of slumber, Roxanne's consciousness struggled to surface. Having been up late the night before and with no pressing duties, the blonde woman had little reason to wake up at any specific time. As it was, she preferred to sleep in. As far as she was concerned, let everyone else get up early and make the most of their day; Roxy, she was a night owl. She was her own schedule and she liked it that way. The distant sound of shooting finally roused her from her deep sleep. Sitting up abruptly, she did her best to wipe the the sleep from her eyes as she groggily swung her feet over the bed. The gun shots she'd heard didn't sound like hunting....it sounded like fighting and that likely meant Raiders. The town had been having problems with them since Roxanne arrived, which was roughly two weeks ago. Unbidden, the death of her last companion flashed before her eyes. She grimaced as she forced the unpleasant memory from her head. Granted he'd been a hired hand and they'd only been traveling for a little ways together, but his death had still been unnecessary. Well, necessary if you figured in that his death most likely saved her life. But still.

Roxy's nightgown dropped to her feet as she slid the straps off her shoulders. It didn't take long to slip on her Merc's Charmer outfit or run her fingers through her hair. She studied the small cracked mirror that hung on the wall near her double sized bed as she twisted off the cap to a bottle of purified water. Being as far and few between as water was, the blue-eyed blonde sure didn't want to waste any, so she carefully poured just a little amount into a bowl first and then proceeded to use it on her face. Refreshing. Roxanne paused for a brief moment, enjoying the cool clean sensation. Hearing a couple more shots fire off, she finished quickly. The gambler pulled on her boots and grabbed her authority sunglasses and fedora, slapping it atop her head. If she hadn't been in a hurry to figure out what was going on, she likely would have taken the time to braid her blonde hair into two separate braids. As it was, today a hat was going to have to make do. Roxy made sure to lock the door to her room on her way out, but not before she grabbed some weapons. As she made her way down the stairs leading to the bar, her 5.56mm pistol lay on her hip, her combat knife on the other, and her switchblade lay hidden under her clothes. In her front pocket she carried a pack of cigarettes, in her back one a deck of cards, and somewhere hidden there were a few caps for breakfast. It took all of about five minutes for her to get dressed and join the folks downstairs. The lights were out so it made it difficult to see, but enough light came through the window(s) in the bar to Illuminate the other nervous faces congregated. No power, that didn't bode well.

Roxanne's blue hazel eyes took in Daniel behind the counter, as well as the few other people still inside the Fission Hole. Likely the owner, Shawn, had gone off to help fight the Raiders. She hoped the fighting would stop quickly....even though she was in the safety of the bar, the female opportunist couldn't shake the nervousness churning in her stomach. Daniel appeared to be drinking a scotch, and though alcohol seemed rightly tempting, coffee was probably a better choice. She needed some caffeine. Eh, forget coffee. It was too hot. She'd have a Nuka Cola. After checking her weapons (minus the concealed switchblade) Roxy walked over and took one of the recently vacated bar stools. "Raider trouble I take it?" She pulled off her sunglasses as she gestured with her head in the direction of the previous gunfire.

[ Wearing ] Merc Charmer Outfit. Fedora. Authority Sunglasses.
[ Packing ] 5.56mm Pistol [1], Combat Knife [1] [Checked in]
[ Carrying ] Concealed Switchblade, Caps, Pack of Cigarettes, Deck of Cards, Stimpak x2, [ OOC ] Finally joining in on the fun woot!

[GeeGeeGoJayBee]

Daniel Boudreaux

Smooth Talker xxx●xxx Allurexxx●xxx Fortune's Choosen

[ Wellbeing ] Alright xxx [ Company ] Roxy and leftover bar patrons xxx [ Whereabouts ] Fission Hole


Daniel watched Roxy walk down stairs. Roxy had just gotten into town a little while ago but Daniel took care to remember her name. Usually he wouldn’t attempt to commit someone’s name to memory but she stuck out more so than others. She generally reminded him of himself at her age, with the whole exception of being a pretty young woman of course.

He put his scotch down and rested his cigarette in the ash tray as he watched as Roxy sat at the bar. She took off her glasses and made a somewhat obvious assumption. ”Did you figure that out on your own, sweetheart?” Daniel teased. ”Yeah,” he answered more seriously this time, ”they blew out the generator. Some of the others went to go fix it and Shawn left yours truly in charge.” He smiled at the other. The best way to describe the smile is mischievous. He smiled at her not because of anything she had done but at the thought that Shawn would leave him in charge. Truly knowing himself he knew that he was probably the last person anyone would want to be in charge of anything. Others often perceived him as sleazy, although he didn’t personally see himself that way. He saw himself as a survivor. The only reason he wasn’t taking caps out of the register, or more accurately the lockbox, was because there were other people around and he was sure Shawn would notice them missing later.

He put his hands on the counter and leaned forward. He still had that naughty smile plastered on his face. ”You want anything? It’s on the house.” he conveniently forgot to mention that only a select few things were on the house. Despite this whole event with the raiders he was starting to have the tiniest amount of fun, he just hoped nobody came by and messed that up.


[ Wearing ] Well Heeled Gambler Suit
[ Packing ] Silenced .22 Pistol [1], Switchblade [1]
[ Carrying ] Deck of Cards[1], Pack of Cigarettes[1]

[ OOC ] Daniel is starting to sound like a creep, well, that's okay because he is a creep.