Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-25828117-20151216000203/@comment-29559990-20151217011244

James had wandered back to his home through the wastelands, having to spend a few extra bullets on creatures who had the audacity to approach him. It wasn't much of a trouble but he always despised the wasting of bullets...

When he arrived home, he recieved quite a shock when he realized that his defenses were offline. They were as still as a pile of scrap, and about as useful as one, too.

"Oh, shit..." James spat, picking up the speed and heading for the side compartment of his house, his footsteps ferociously digging into the dirt. His shotgun was held tightly into his left hand, ready to kill anything inside. His heart was racing, and beads of sweat were running down his forehead.

The handprint-identification accepted his right hand, and opened the door for James. Without any hint of doubt, he stomped down the stairs and came to a stop at the end of the stairwell. He raised his shotgun up and looked around the place, looking for any signs of life.

Thankfully, he saw nothing. Everything was left in it's place. All the tools he had collected were still stuffed into the unclosable toolbox. Scraps of metal and adhesives still lay scattered across the landscape. Everything seemed to be in order. Could they have just... he didn't know, run out of power?

He thought so until his eyes came to rest upon something new. On the left wall, a holotape was held to the wall by a single piece of tape, and the words "Play Me" were painted onto the wall, directly underneath the tape.

James cautiosly approached the tape, unsure of what the hell was going on. Could this be some sort of elaborate trap, devised by some above-average raiders? Or perhaps, some secret society was coming for him? His answers to his questions, he figured, were contained on the tape.

With some reluctance, he ripped free the tape from the wall after he had exited his Power Armor suit. He held it in his hands for a while, and then looked down at his pip-boy device. A million paranoid thoughts ran through his mind, one of them being the fear that he might put this end and it actually be some sort of a bomb.

None the less, he slid the tape in anyways, and took a seat...

"Greetings, Mr. Gatling," The tape began, the voice being that of a woman. She sounded to be around the age of 50, and her voice was commanding, yet humbled. Intimidating, and yet so calm. "I apologize for the scare you've probably received. You saw the defenses down, and you feared it was Darren all over again, didn't you?"

James sat back in his chair, pursing his lips and balling up his fists. "Yes, I know about that. I know many of things about your past, James Gatling. And you do not know a single thing about me. And unfortunately, it'll have to keep that way. It's in our best interests..."

"You're extensive knowledge of self-automated defenses along with your inventions, we have found to be rather useful. And it is, for that reason, that I extend to you a contract. Mercenary work, Mr. Gatling. You and handful of selected individuals will carry out missions on our behalf when we should call upon you. It is, that simple. However, no one is to know about this, Mr. Gatling. And by listening to this, you accept that speaking of this message to anyone is punishable by a complete re-education or death."

James sniffed, not seeing how they could 'extend' a contract if he was practically being forced into it. "Should you choose to accept, you will be sent instructions as to where you will be relocating. Should you deny, then I will have no choice but to make sure loose ends are tied up. I await your decision, with baited breath..."

The tape ended, and a screen came up. On the stop, there was the Accept button. On the bottom, the Decline button. He looked at the two options for a while, wishing there was a "Go back to Texas and settle down in one of the major settlements" button. Unfortunately, that appeared to be out of the question. It took him just a while longer to think, weighing the pro's and cons of each selection. And eventually, it just came down to life or death.

With a great reluctance, he pressed the Accept option, and his pip-boy immediately shut down. The wall where the holotape had been shuddered before ejecting out a small drawer, waiting to be opened.

"Hell..." James muttered, getting up and opening two small doors on the drawer. Inside, was an official looking document with only 4 words on the paper; Excellent choice, Mr. Gatling. And underneath that, was a map giving him the place where he needed to go...