Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5543592-20190326124223/@comment-3293219-20190326201527

It didn’t take much to piss a scorchbeast off…. These biblical monstrocities were looking for trouble, since the moment they were barfed out of the book of Daniel.

Unfortunately for them, so was Paul.

Paul drew his super sledge, keeping a tight grip on it to keep it from flying out of his hands. A weak man would find himself being pulled along by this thing, its thruster was so powerful. Of course, it took a true master to use such a weapon as most would be at least taken aback by its insane power.

As it slowly fell into his power gloved hand, he scanned the skies, with care. Though Paul was far from short sighted or anything as drastic, his eyes weren’t what they used to be, mostly due to mutations. He used to have pilot-level vision as a younger man but now things sort of blur from a distance. Nothing important, just signs and things that require focus to see properly.

Regardless, he was always on guard for the eventuality that his eyes would one day fail him altogether. Thankfully that wasn’t today, he could see the creature clearly… but unfortunately, his the large batt flew over his head, excreting a toxic gas over him, that still made his flesh tingle, even as a mutant.

It was very rare that these things could be found as Paul killed a shit load of them and a fuck ton died on their own… or maybe it was the otherway around? Details were often hazy, both in and out of his head…

The creature spun around and started blasting at Paul, with his sonic waves. Fuck, he hated that shit! He hated it so much that he found himself abandoning his power armour and stepping out as he felt his arms twitch.

“OH, you want to play it that way, you cuntsplash!?” Paul roared.

He had a special place of hatred for these creatures. A hatred that went back centuries, to the point that he once made it his life’s mission to rid them off the face of the planet but unfortunately, he kind of forgot about that at some point.

“C’mon!” He added, tightening the muscles in his legs and forcing them to grow twice as big as he hopped onto the rustic remains of a car and leapt up to be at the batt’s level. He extended his, now bulky, hand and snatched at the hellspawn’s misshapen nose, digging his fingernails into its stupid fucking face to keep himself up in the air before punching it repeatedly.

His muscles tightened as he grabbed hold of its ears and pulled downward, tearing the fleshy lobes away from the skull. The Creature gave off an ear shattering shriek, blasting Paul with a sonic blast and sending him hurling back into the roof of the railway station, nearby.

He always liked that railway station, it was classy, clean and nice music played in it, when you sat in there, to have a drink… Now there was a big, fuck off hole in the roof!

Paul slammed his fist against the floor as he rose up, letting at least five stones worth of rubble just roll off of him as he grumbled, furiously under his breath. It was at this point, that he got the attention of the Protectron buttler.

“''Welcome, Pardner! Would you *like* to wet your whistle?”''

“Hold that thought!” He snapped, hoping to throw himself back into the fray.



<p class="MsoNormal">With a loud crunch, the door to the small railside bar opened and Paul roared up to the heavens, allowing his muscle structure to build up further and further to the point that he was almost as big as a Nightkin. <p class="MsoNormal" style="border:none;mso-border-bottom-alt:solid windowtext .75pt; padding:0cm;mso-padding-alt:0cm 0cm 1.0pt 0cm">“Bring it on, you demonic piece of shit!” <p class="MsoNormal">Paul awoke some time after, not wearing anything anymore as his clothes were ripped to hell by his transformation. He winced as he felt something sharp digging into his back, prompting him to shake his head, until his eyes adjusted to the world around him again.

<p class="MsoNormal">It was then that he realised the problem… He was lay on this monster’s bottom jaw and he had seemingly ripped its head off as it tried to eat him. No wait, he cleaved through it? He couldn’t tell from the angle but slicing through the neck made more sense than pulling the head off but if he was pissed enough, he could possibly do that…

<p class="MsoNormal">Mrgh… That was a wonderful start to my Tuesday morning… Paul grumbled, slowly pulling himself up to his feet and wandering over to the bar.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Hey! Robot? I’ll… I’ll take that drink now!” He called before hearing a loud ‘squelch’ and feeling something burst between his toes. His eyes immediately found themselves glancing down as he observed what he had stepped in.

<p class="MsoNormal">It would seem that he had stepped on and burst a stomach or perhaps a liver? It has hard for Paul to tell, after so many years of not seeing one. He noticed a number of stringy intestines leading up to a pair of spread out legs, lay face down on the ground.

<p class="MsoNormal">They were seemingly sporting blue pants and black boots and a satchel lay beside them. He figured the owner didn’t have much use for the satchel, given that he and his joy division were now separate entities and he decided to have a quick rife around inside the duffle bag.

<p class="MsoNormal">It was at that point, that he found a letter, addressed to him…

<p class="MsoNormal">“''<span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height: 107%;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language:EN-GB">My name is Agent Miller. You do not know me. But I know you. I am Agent for the Office of Science and Industry, an intelligence department within the New California Republic. To some of you, those names will be meaningless. It is unimportant whether you recognize them or not. I will tell you what you need to know. ''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-fareast-language:EN-GB">  

<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; line-height:normal">''<span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-fareast-language:EN-GB">There is a woman named Shrike. You may have heard of her. She is unstable, dangerous, and, so far as we know it, a killer without equal. She is coming for you. She will stop at nothing to end your life. If you are receiving this message it is because Shrike believes the same thing I do: that you are a person of extraordinary talent or popular renown. This is why you are her target. ''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; line-height:normal">''<span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-fareast-language:EN-GB">You are not without resources however, or friends. You will tune to the following frequency: 550.97GHz L. What follows will confuse and disorient you. But believe me when I say that the alternative that Shrike offers is much, much worse… ”''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; line-height:normal">“Oh… Shit…” Paul murmured, scrunching the note away before messing with his pipboy, that he had to take off, during his transformations and that really fucked with the biometrics.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; line-height:normal">“Hey, Robot! Make that six drinks!” He called, adjusting the signal to 550.97GHz L.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; line-height:normal">“To go!” <span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-fareast-language:EN-GB">