FANDOM


  • LegendsTitleCard2

    Courtesy of Psychomantis108


    Shrike held Josey out over the ledge of the Gray, over a three story drop and death on the concrete below. She was strong, much stronger than he was. Faster. Smarter. How many men had Josey killed? Hundreds? Thousands? Shrike had killed more. And was better at it.

    “What matters is that you understand why. Purpose, Josey. Yours is Vegas. Mine was my brother. You killed him. It’s only fair you get the same treatment.” Shrike was saying. “But before I kill Vegas, I still need to finish with you.”

    “And after that? What’ll you do? Walk away from it all?” He asked.

    Shrike shook head. “No. There are others like you. Legends of the wastes who think themselves superior to the rest of us. I’ll find them, kill them too. No one deserves the kind of power you people wield.”


    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.


    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.

    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…

    You received this message moments ago, either through your Pip-boy, preferred communications device, maybe even by courier; however you usually get your notices-of-impending-doom.

    Deciding that it couldn’t hurt to at least tune in to the frequency Miller mentioned, you went to the nearest radio, be it on your arm or elsewhere, and tuned it to the frequency. It wasn’t much later that you heard the propellers of a vertibird. Little do you know, but you just signed on to be a part of Miller's Coalition.


    One week ago the rogue hitwoman known as “Shrike” attacked New Vegas, targeting its ruler, Josey Wales. She killed Wales’ closest associates, with the exception of Craig Boone. Wales and Boone have been missing since Shrike’s attack and Shrike herself has been in the wind, although there is rumor that in the time since she has continued her murder spree around the country. Working alongside Shrike are two men: Thomas Hamilton and Randall Clark, both notorious killers in their own right.

    Shrike slowly advances her plan to kill those she has deemed necessary, regardless of the collateral damage inflicted. Meanwhile, those Shrike pursues prepare. Will a competent defense form against her in time or will Shrike achieve her goal of ending the Legends of the Wastes?


    Rules:

    1. The date is June 29, 2290 (Three years after the events of Fallout: Prophecy, four years after Godless America, immediately after Butcherbird). Your character can either start in one of two places: inside a warehouse they were just dropped off in or waiting to be picked up by Agent Miller.

    2. You can be a Human, Ghoul, Supermutant, or Synth.

    3. You must post a character card before posting. You can have as many characters as you want, provided that you can handle it.

    4. Don't be OP (should speak for itself). VATS is disabled. Guns and gun wounds work like real life. You cannot survive three bullets to the head, et cetera. Armored characters be it metal or skin obviously have the edge.

    5. You cannot kill (or control) other people's characters, without their consent. Same goes for amputations and maiming. Named NPCs cannot be directly controlled by the players, without the GM's permission, for story purposes.

    6. Take the RP seriously, shit posting will get you banned. I don't care how bored you are or how many pets you've lost. Don't hijack the story and change its purpose, you're more than welcome to make your own RP doing that. Anyone who leaves (without a good reason) will not be allowed back in. This is to stop people from taking the RP hostage, by constantly leaving/threatening to leave.

    7. Please use common sense when adding a character. The story relies upon the inherent threat Shrike presents. Do not make a character that Shrike would have no desire to kill (such as a bag merchant) or a character that Shrike would be incapable of killing. If your character can’t be hurt by Shrike, doesn’t care about Shrike, or isn’t afraid of Shrike, then what the heck would they be doing here?


    Character Card

    Name:

    Age:

    Sex:

    Race:

    Appearance:

    S. P. E. C. I. A. L. (Optional):

    Tag Skills (Optional):

    Perks&Traits (Optional):

    Equipment:

    Background: Keep in mind that your character’s background is the reason they were contacted by Miller or Shrike is coming after them. Refer to rule #7.

      Loading editor
    • Name: Morgan Jones

      Age: 36

      Sex: Female

      Race: White

      Appearance: This , with some more wrinkles and a few grey streaks of hair. Also wears a lab coat over her special suit and glasses to make herself look smarter.

      S. P. E. C. I. A. L. (Optional):  Strength 2, Perception 9, Endurance 5, Charisma 1, Intelligence 9, Agility 4, Luck 5, 

      Tag Skills (Optional): Never really did this for Morgan!

      Perks&Traits (Optional): Same here!

      Equipment: White lab coat, round rimmed glasses, a pip boy she stole from the Commonwealth 20 years ago. She wields an old fashioned M40 sniper rifle that she went and recovered from Governors Island with Rook some time after the events in the Empire Wasteland. She also built her own Courser system, with Rooks help that allows her to call in several kinds of Android and Robots. It's harder to do the further away she is from New York however, and she still hasn't got the hang of calling down more than one at a time.

      Background: Morgan was part of the Empire Wasteland debacle. Her, Rook and a few others spent a long time stopping the Thongzi and the Peoples Rebublic of China from using Psychotronic technology to either brainwash or outright kill the inhabitants of the Empire Wasteland. 

      It all came to a head at the top of the Empire State Building, where she, Rook, Hamilton and the others stopped a mad General from Governors Island and convinced the Thongzi agent to give up his plans and leave. 

      Hamilton then got into a scuffle with Garry and killed him, which Rook and Morgan both saw as a betrayal. They tried to kill Hammy in retaliation but he got away, and Morgan had hated him ever since.

      After blowing up the top of the Empire State building to stop anything like this happening again, Morgan and Rook developed and produced Solar Panels, giving New York free energy to become the city that never sleeps again. This obviously got her and Rook a great deal of power too, and now, Morgan practically runs New York from her place in Broadway.

      She and Rook spent years cultivating and scouring for all technology they could find, and Broadway soon came to be known as a place of safety for Synths and humanity alike, with the two living in relative harmony.

      However, six years ago, Shrike showed up in some ruins whilst Rook was on patrol and killed him. Enraged at the death and utter destruction of her lover, Morgan fetched one of the only things that remained of him, his chip containing his memories and personality. She keeps it around her neck as she focuses on rebuilding Rook exactly how he was. However with the lack of Biogel and technology around and her distrust of the Institute has slowed the progress down to a crawl, and barely anything has been done, greatly frustrating her.

      When the call came through six years later warning about Shrike, Morgan immediately tuned in and agreed to help.

      After all, she was after Shrike as much as Shrike was after her...


      Name: Harriot Walker

      Age: 32

      Sex: Female

      Race: White

      Appearance: This although now she wears a checkered flannel shirt tied above her stomach and some shorts for the hot days on the farm.

      S. P. E. C. I. A. L. (Optional): Strength: 4 Perception: 5 Endurance: 7 Charisma: 8 Intelligence: 5 Agility: 8 Luck: 3

      Tag Skills (Optional): Sneak Animal Tamer Traps

      Perks&Traits (Optional): Kleptomaniac Sex Appeal

      Equipment: Doesn't have much really, a Machete and a shotgun for protecting her farm as well as a revolver fashioned after Wilkes'

      Background: Harriot was part of the whole Daniel debacle and part of the Brothers in Binds program set up by the NCR. Harriot went through many trials during her time in Denver, including losing two lovers as well as one of her breasts, leaving huge scarring all down the right hand side of her chest.

      She grew close to Wilkes Walker after losing McGill, and after they had stopped Daniel through attacking his main base and cutting off the main supply of goop he used to create clones of himself as well as lobotomy, they travelled to Kentucky with their loyal Rottweiler, Squanto.

      She set up a little farm on a nice piece of land with Wilkes and raised several kinds of farm things to keep them going, including some one headed Brahmin that Wilkes called "cows" and all kinds of vegetables.

      The pair of them had got married about 18 months ago and life on the surface seemed good for the happy couple.

      However...

      Harriot was a troublemaker at heart and this farm life was incredibly dull, driving her round the bend. Even the sex was kinda boring due to it not really changing up thanks to Wilkes having a bum leg. She still loved him of course, and felt horrible she was feeling this way, as this is what her husband had always wanted, so she kept quiet.

      When the voice came through on the radio, Harriot jumped at the chance to shake her life up and see some action again. 

      She eagerly tuned in to the frequency...

        Loading editor
    • Name: Wilkes Walker

      Age: 32

      Gender: Male

      Race: Human

      Appearance: This

      Strength: 7
      
Perception: 5
      
Endurance: 8
      
Charisma: 8
      
Intelligence: 7
      
Agility: 5
      
Luck: 4

      Equipment: White shirt and combat boots and trousers, a trusty revolver, a hunting shotgun, a combat knife, a kevlar vest, and a powered exoskeleton for his waist and legs

      Background: Wilkes is a former NCR Army Sergeant who was falsely imprisoned following a failed mission. In 2285 he was sent into Denver along with a group of other convicts as part of Project Cook, to build a prison colony. Things went well for a time, until they got into a conflict with the Copper Toes, who killed fellow convict Doug Fargo and crippled Wilkes' left leg. During the ensuing conflict he began to grow closer to Harriot, to the point where she was the closest friend he had in the Project; shortly after the victory over the Copper Toes, he realised that he was in love with her - but then Daniel Starling killed George McGill and began a genocidal campaign of assimilation against the human race. Though Daniel ravaged Colorado and New Mexico, Wilkes and several companions managed to put a final end to him.

      In the aftermath, Wilkes and Harriot travelled to the barely-touched state of Kentucky, where they settled down and built a farm of their own, as they had envisioned during their time in Denver. They had a happy life together, tending to their farm and tinkering on all sorts of machinery to make their life easier. In late 2288, they even got married.

      But Wilkes knew it was not enough for Harriot. All the signs showed that she was getting bored, as well as she was trying to hide it. He did what he could to appease her need for action and adventure, but with a crippled leg and a quiet farm, there was only so much he could do. Sooner or later this life would come crashing down upon them, as much as he didn't want it to...

        Loading editor
    • Name: Clyde Horton

      Age: 154

      Gender: Male

      Race: Ghoul

      Appearance: This

      Strength: 5
      
Perception: 6
      
Endurance: 9
      
Charisma: 6
      
Intelligence: 5
      
Agility: 7
      
Luck: 7

      Equipment: Combat armour, a laser rifle, a combat shotgun, a plasma pistol, grenades, mines, a combat knife

      Background: Clyde was born in what would eventually become the prospering settlement of Diamond City, but he became a Ghoul by getting stuck under rubble in the Glowing Sea. Having spent several decades there, he was eventually freed by the Children of Atom, after which he became a mercenary and earned himself a reputation for being almost untouchable, something he still likes to assert. Following a debacle with the Minutemen, Clyde gave up his mercenary ways and instead became a scavenger. He met Alexander Pitt in this line of work, and the two started to work together; they have been inseparable since.

      In 2277, Clyde and Alex participated in the effort to put a halt to the AI Clive and his schemes. Following the destruction of the World's Fair, they began to travel west in search of more technology to scavenge. That was thirteen years ago now, and Clyde can't help but notice his companion's increasing reluctance to carry on with this life...

        Loading editor
    • Name: Brutus

      Age: N/A

      Sex: Male

      Race: Super Mutant

      Appearance: Towering at 10 feet tall, wrinkly and scarred face. Light Green tint to his skin, beady yellow eyes and teeth. Basically what you'd expect from a super mutant.

      S. P. E. C. I. A. L. (Optional): S - 10, P - 6, E - 8, C - 2, I - 4, A - 7, L - 5

      Tag Skills (Optional): Melee Weapons, Unarmed Combat

      Perks&Traits (Optional): Resistant to Physical Damage and Rads. 

      Equipment: Armor and Axe weaponry made from scrap metal and rusted junk. Armor is fashioned to look like an old gladitorial attire, bearing resemblance to Legion uniforms. A sash and belt decorated with the top halves of skulls align his chest and waist.

      Backgrounds: Brutus woke up one day in a desert, naked and clutching onto an axe. That's about where his memories began. He set out across the Wastelands to discover his purpose, aimlessly cutting through raiders and slavers, and occasionally some high-powered maniac with an army at his back.

      His mentor, Grant "The Bison" Morrison, passed away a few years back after a fierce battle in Denver. Grant left an impression on Brutus, even if it was a small one. He tought the mutant to read, write, and even how to properly use a gun. Though he remained the hardened, angry super mutant that sought for the blood of his enemies and the glory of battle, he did at least learn some things regarding compassion and justice from the old NCR veteran. Ever since his passing, Brutus has tried to find this "good path" and stay down it, even if it didn't always work in his favor.

      He made a lot of enemies during his crusades. And now apparently, there was some other evil hunting him and "others like him". Brutus welcomed the challenge that this Shrike presented, and tuned into the frequency that the little slip of paper told him to. 

      He was anxious to see what threat this Shrike truly posed...

        Loading editor
    • Name: Alexander Pitt

      Age: 43

      Gender: Male

      Race: Human

      Appearance: Blue eyes and ash blonde hair, with a few grey streaks in it. Short goatee.

      Strength: 5
      
Perception: 7
      
Endurance: 5
      
Charisma: 4
      
Intelligence: 8
      
Agility: 9
      
Luck: 6

      Equipment: Combat armour, a .45 pistol, a laser rifle, a combat knife, a variety of grenades, mines, and other gadgets and devices

      Background: Alexander Pitt is a scavenger and tech wiz originally from the Empire Wasteland. He made his fortune scavenging advanced technology, fixing it up, and selling it. He eventually teamed up with the Ghoul Clyde Horton to further fuel their success. They have been inseparable since.

      Alex has been in the business for a long time. He isn't the youngest anymore, and all the travelling and fighting and scrounging is beginning to wear him out. He's considering retiring and settling down somewhere, but hasn't yet worked up the will to tell Clyde.

        Loading editor
    • Name: Six (Samuel Miller)

      Age: 30

      Sex: Male 

      Race: Synthetic Human

      Appearance: Too Sixy

      S. P. E. C. I. A. L. (Optional): S - 5, P - 10, E - 5, C - 8, I - 7, A - 4, L - 6

      Tag Skills (Optional): Barter, Speech, Science, Small Weapons

      Perks&Traits (Optional): Fast Reload Time, Terminal Hacker, Extremely Persuasive

      Equipment: 3-piece suit seen in his appearance photo, a small holster on the side for his revolver.

      Background: Six began life as one of the lesser synth models. His achievement of conciousness came in a blur, and he barely recalls how he managed to escape from his life in the Institute. He wandered through the wastes, unsure of the world around him, but slowly he learned about its history, its dangers, and its opportunity. 

      Initially very reluctant to join Salvator Industries, he was left with no choice after his constant evasions and close calls with the savage wastelands left his body beat up beyond repair. Found half-dead by the forces of Salvator, Six was given new life when the company transferred his conciousness into the husk of a humanoid synth. He was no longer just circuits and parts, but a functioning human being.

      Forever in their debt, Six joined the companies most prestigious and lethal task force, Eagle Company, and was dispatched on numerous jobs over the next 5 years to tame the wastelands and protect those living in its harsh conditions, as well as spread the good word of Salvator's altruistic intentions. 

      Now, he find himself on another job, heading off to investigate the mysterious message sent to Salvator by Agent Miller and to what extent this "Shrike" target posed a threat to Salvator and it's Southern holdings. Lethal force was authorized.

        Loading editor
    • Name: Timothy Roger Ashford

      Age: 29

      Gender: Male

      Race: Human

      Appearance: His face is obscured by his mask, but he has ash blonde hair. See this

      Strength: 4
      
Perception: 6
      
Endurance: 4
      
Charisma: 9
      
Intelligence: 6
      
Agility: 8
      
Luck: 5

      Equipment: A marksman carbine, a 5.56 calibre pistol, a kevlar vest, and a white hockey mask he never takes off

      Background: Timothy Ashford had a normal life growing up in Merceton, until Raiders besieged the settlement and utterly pillaged the place. Tim's entire family was killed and he himself suffered horrific facial injuries. In the four years after the massacre, he began to travel northward, helping locals wherever he went.

      By 2287 he had found his way all the way north to the Royal Wasteland, where he became entangled in the fulfilment of the so-called Prophecy of Four and participated in an effort to stop a man called Kheiro from achieving godhood, while at the same time protecting the city from the local Brotherhood of Steel chapter, which had uncharacteristically nefarious goals. Along the way, Tim was named the heir to the fantastical House of Devane. Once he is ready to ascend the throne, he will return to Seattle, but until then, he continues to wander the world...

        Loading editor
    • Name:  Tanner Collins

      Age: 34

      Sex: Male

      Race: Human (Caucasian) Psyker

      Appearance:  Multiple can be found on his page.  Currently clean-shaven with long dark hair.  Skin has reached an even darker tan color.

      S. P. E. C. I. A. L. (Optional):

      Strength: 7
      
Perception: 5
      
Endurance: 7
      
Charisma: 6
      
Intelligence: 7
      
Agility: 8
      
Luck: 6

      Perks&Traits:  Photokinesis (if you were to boil it down from a gameplay perspective, it would be a grab-bag of different perks and abilities)

      Equipment:  Heavy coat with kevlar plates sown into it.  Tall leather boots, a thin white shirt, dark jeans.  A pair of butterfly knives, The Gun That Won the West, and the Almighty.

      Background:

      Tanner has spent the last fourteen years of his life hunting down individuals with supernatural abilities, be it Hades, mutants, ghouls, or something else entirely.  His long game of being a force for change in the wasteland, particularly his unique ability to manipulate light itself, has caused Shrike to mark him for death.

      Tanner has been a lot of things, an unconfident cancer patient, sure of his own mortality, an alcoholic absentee father, depressed and dissatisfied with his existence.  He's done his best to do right by his mentor's legacy, his family, other people, but often finds himself lacking and a disappointment.  Although his depression has lifted somewhat from its all time low, he's still not in such a good place.

      Regardless, Tanner's boundless determination and unconquerable will won't let him quit.  Knowing Shrike's after him hasn't changed things much, if anything it's a familiarity, as he'd faced a similar foe in Hades.  He's faced genocidial AIs, immortal mutants, alien gods, mind-controlling warlords, eccentric kings, and death herself.  Tanner's confident he'll manage against Shrike and, failing that, confident she at least won't get the best of him.  After all, Tanner still hasn't been able to get the best of himself.

      Tanner was the first individual Miller recruited after Josey and Boone.  Currently, he's biding his time in the large warehouse Miller recently deposited him and Cable in, having just been informed the rest of the infant "coalition" will be showing up today.


      Name: Cable

      Age: 22

      Sex: Male

      Race: Caucasian

      Appearance

      S. P. E. C. I. A. L. (Optional):

      Strength: 6
      
Perception: 5
      
Endurance: 7
      
Charisma: 6
      
Intelligence: 6
      
Agility: 6
      
Luck: 5

      Equipment: Vault 13 jumpsuit, leather padding worn over suit, two 10mm pistols.  Has a suit of Causer power armor and a Tesla cannon lying around somewhere.

      Background:

      Cable grew up in Arroyo, after the Enclave and Vault 13 refugees had settled there.  A technological paradise, Cable grew up wishing for a more rustic life, caught up in the tails of the Vault Dweller and Chosen One.  Deciding he too could be a legend, he conquered the Temple of Trials, and then set off into the wastes with his guns and a spear.  It went south when he was captured by the Midwestern Brotherhood of Steel, but was rescued by the Cause in Seattle, and joined them for a time.

      Following their destruction, he was once again purposeless, but quickly found it again as Tanner's sidekick.  He seems himself as the Jimmy Olsen to Tanner's Superman, despite Tanner's constant assurances to Cable that they aren't heroes, more "benevolent paramilitaries by happenstance."  Cable fails to see the distinction.

      Cable has only recently matured during his and Tanner's four year journey out in the wastelands.  Cable's confident they can handle anything thrown their way.


      Name:  Josey Wales

      Age: 46

      Sex: Male

      Race: Caucasian

      Appearance

      S. P. E. C. I. A. L. (Optional):

      Strength: 5
      
Perception: 7
      
Endurance: 7
      
Charisma: 4
      
Intelligence: 5
      
Agility: 9
      
Luck: 10

      Tag Skills (Optional):  Guns, Speech, Survival, Repair

      Perks&Traits (Optional): Hot-blooded, Built to Destroy

      Equipment: Courier duster (has ballistic fibers in it), Ranger Sequoia (a 5-shot revolver that fires .45-70 Government Issue rounds).

      Background:

      The leader of New Vegas, Josey has ruled Nevada as a king for the last 9 years, but all his careful machinations and plans were torn down in a single week by Shrike.  She murdered the woman he loved, his surrogate family, his closest friends, utterly destroying his life.

      Josey had more or less recovered and become a functional human after being shot in the head nine years ago.  Now, he's once again filled with an unquenchable, incalcuable rage.  The only thing on his mind is murder, both Randall Clark's and Shrike's, and refuses to rest until they're both in the dirt.

      His lean frame is leaner, there are bags under his eyes, and he frequently looks like a man possessed.  But Josey is convinced nothing can stop him from getting his revenge.  Every obstacle that he's ever come up against has fallen before him, there's no reason for that to change.

        Loading editor
    • Character Card

      Name: Willy

      Age: 45 

      Sex: male

      Race: caucasian human

      Appearance: White hair that's been cut just short of a buzzcut, used to be platinum blonde but age caught up with him. A well kept full beard. big blue eyes, a scar above his left eye, courtesy of Thomas Hamilton. A face that used to be lined and worn by worry. He has however gotten a little chubby and his cheeks slightly puffy. 25 pounds heavier to be exact.

      Equipment: He wears a red farmer's neckerchief, a white shirt, dark green breaches, leather boots and suspenders. The belt started to hurt his tummy. 

      Background: Willy does not remember who he used to be. Suffering from severe amnesia after a near to death experience just outside the royal wasteland.

      He was found barely alive by a couple of local farmers. He was out of comission for weeks and when he finally came to he could remember nothing of his past life or where he was going. Vaguely he remembered things; the name: 'Willy' which he took as his own, a big city of concrete, a city of snow, a private eye in the mirror, faces in stone... but nothing tangible. They felt like vague pictures or movies from another life that were not his.

      The old couple, two sweet human beings named Kyle and Joan decided to let Willy stay with them and as soon as he got better he helped around on the farm. 

      Willy proved to be a big sweetheart despite the way he had been found, armed and bleeding to death. Polite and easily emberassed, perhaps a bit dim if you were mean spirited... He would eat lots and let Joan cut his hair as if she was his mother, and in a way she supposed she was. 

      Life was good until one day, a courier came round...

        Loading editor
    • Name: Rick Deere (Also goes by Richard, Commander, Lieutenant, Sergeant, Lieutenant Sergeant, and Big Dick Rick)

      Age: Old

      Sex: Man

      Race: Human, I guess. Just wrinklier 

      Appearance: Ugly

      S. P. E. C. I. A. L. (Optional): S - 10, P - 10.5, E - 12, C - 100, I - 101, A - 10, L - -3

      Tag Skills (Optional): Shooting, Fighting, Cursing, Yelling, Lovemaking, Flexing.

      Perks&Traits (Optional): Eats a shit load of rads, and I don't die. Expert on Guns and Booze, too. 

      Equipment: I got enough ammo and armor to supply a small Canadian coup. 

      Background: I used to be a Marine, and killed a bunch of Commie shitburgers. Now I'm old as hell, look like swiss cheese, and kill a bunch of Raider shitburgers. That's about it. You want a proper backstory, go read a goddamn poem.

      Helen told me you folks need someone to die. I can do that.

        Loading editor
    • Character Card

      Name: "Shanks" Wain

      Age: 243

      Sex: Male

      Race: Human (allegedly), mutant

      Appearance: This

      Strength: 7
      
Perception: 10
      
Endurance: 7
      
Charisma: 6
      
Intelligence: 7
      
Agility: 9
      
Luck: 5

      Equipment: A trenchcoat with a hood, a scarf to cover his face with, dog-tags in a chain around his neck. A high calibre revolver, a sniper rifle and a sword-long machete, both strapped on his back. A Pip-Boy 3000, military edition.

      Background: Also known as the Barghest of Boston, no one is quite sure as to what exactly Shanks is. Not even himself. Though he has some vague memories of his life before the Great War, they are more or less in a blur. All he knows is that he used to be part of the US military spec ops forces, participating in several campaigns before volunteering in a project that was the cause of his dog-like transformation. Injected with a modified strain of the FEV virus has left Shanks resembling more an animal than a man, but has also bestowed upon him all the traits that come with it, also including from the virus his remarkable metabolism and healing capabilities, and his unnatural long lifespan. His senses of hearing, sight and smell, and his agile body movements have made him into an excellent assassin, requested by many but hired by few.

      Shanks is still trying to piece together his past, but he doesn't mind making a living along the way if the payment is right. Having recently finished a contract in the outskirts of NCR, he received a curious distress call on his Pip-Boy which he decided to heed, looking for yet another way to make a living.


      Character Card

      Name: Evangeline Prescott Winfield, aka "The Witch"

      Age: 25

      Sex: Female

      Race: Human

      Appearance: This

      Strength: 2
      
Perception: 8
      
Endurance: 2
      
Charisma: 8
      
Intelligence: 7
      
Agility: 8
      
Luck: 5

      Equipment: A black trenchcoat with a dark red hoodie underneath. Fingerless gloves, dirty blue jeans, dark brown leather boots. A sniper rifle and a revolver.

      Background: Evangeline is a member of the enigmatic Order of Salem, a secretive group of assassins dedicated to root out evil in the Wastelands. As a young girl she was abducted on a scouting assignment by the Cult of Ug-Qualtoth and was exposed to their sinister rituals. As a result she was left blinded, only having her eyesight restored with cybernetic lenses based on synth technology. Later in her teens she was a member of the group who stopped the crazed  and power hungry A.I. Clive at the World's Fair.

      With her overseer Minerva Ridgemont having received the mysterious distress call from scouts, she sent out Evangeline to serve as the Order's representative and ambassador in the matters of stopping Shrike, their next target and assignment.

        Loading editor
    • Name: Denis Callaghan

      Age: 33

      Sex: Male

      Race: Human Caucasian

      Appearance: Rough brown hair, palish skin, surgical scar in hairline (mostly buried in his hair), short beard.

      S. P. E. C. I. A. L. (Optional): tba

      Tag Skills (Optional): tba

      Perks&Traits (Optional): tba

      Equipment: Regulator Duster, bullbarrel revolver, Chinese assault rifle, broom handle Mauser, Derringer in boot, Occam's raiser and the Terrible Shotgun.

      Background: born in the Wasteland, raised in a vault. Denis' life was changed, the day he fled into the Wasteland and unintentionally put him in a situation where he had to follow. Though the Wasteland corrupts many, Denis followed in the example set by his father. He performed acts of compassion, fairness and self sacrifice.

      Denis grew, over that year and became a spirit of Justice. He joined the feared regulators, who hunted down and killed the wicked. Raiders, slavers and 'other assholes' all had their tickets, ready to end up in Callaghan's sites.

      His stint as a Regulator caused a lot of unbalance in the region, raider gangs, Enclave officers and slave traders have a short life expectancy, thanks to the example he put forward.

      The only way that one like Shrike could correct the balance, would be to show the people of DC that even Legends have something to fear.

        Loading editor
    • Name: Naomi Eastwood

      Age: 34 (Biologically)

      244 (Chronologically)

      Sex: Female

      Race: Human (Asian (Half Caucasian))

      Appearance: Primmed back, dark hair, in a bun. Dark makeup, mostly purples and blacks. A lot of scarring of various notability, mostly on her face.

      Quite a bit of muscle build up, from three years of traversing the commonwealth.

      S. P. E. C. I. A. L. (Optional): TBA

      Tag Skills (Optional): TBA

      Perks&Traits (Optional): TBA

      Equipment: Black Courser coat, silenced operator pistol, powerful silver spiked baseball bat that has a thruster attatchment and a powerful sniper rifle.

      Background: Naomi is from the before time and would have never have predicted that she'd become the matriarch of the Commonwealth, by 2287. She inherited the Institute from her Son and has been hard at work converting the world above and below Boston into a paradise. With the combined efforts of the Institute, the Minutemen and her own settlers, the Commonwealth has become a safe haven for the most part and one may even walk its roads unarmed. (Though it is not recommended that you do so...)

      Needless to say, this hasn't sat well with everyone. Some, like Shrike, may find her work objectionable, especially given her work with the organization that created and unleashed the synths, an invention that could wipe out mankind, if left unchecked.



      To kill Naomi would not only be killing the dictator of the Commonwealth but it would also send the hierarchy of their most advanced research facility into dissaray.

        Loading editor
    • Name: Paul Morgan

      Age: 223

      Sex: Male

      Race: Human (formerly)

      Now some sort of mutant hybrid.

      Appearance: Burned looking ghoul/marked man like skin, with Scorched leasions growing out of his face. A large green shard grows out of his cheekbone and reaches down to his jawline, jutting out at 3 inches in length. He has little to no hair left, his eyeballs have turned black, his lips have rotted away to the point that his mouth is in a perminant snarl and his body has the skeletal structure of a ghoul.

      He is currently wearing his Enclave Uniform as it is rare that he gets to meet others.

      S. P. E. C. I. A. L. (Optional): S: 15

      P: 8

      E: 15

      C:3

      I:8

      A: 7

      L: 8

      Tag Skills (Optional): Science, Melee Weapons and Survival

      Perks&Traits (Optional):

      Equipment: Enclave Uniform, modified super sledge, powerful magnum revolver, civil war pistol, civil war musket. Also brought his confederate uniform, a golfing skirt, ratty skirt, white t-shirt and slacks and a cappy T-shirt, along with his armour.

      Background: One of the few figures found, wandering Apalachia. After many of the initial vault dwellers abandoned it, Morgan persisted and has thus found himself exposed to the landscape for so long that he has somewhat become a part of it.

      He was born, a few years before the war and was selected for Vault 76, based on his promising chemistry skills as a boy. However, his parents were not.

      He grew up without a family but managed to make a new one before that fateful day that the Vault door opened up and they were released into the world. Paul found himself in a broken, desolate nightmare of a world. He braved the elements, the monsters and other survivors for years but was never able to find growth in the region. If anything, he found the opposite. Just death, despair and decay...

      He has spent the last two hundred or so years alone. To the point that it severely effected his mental health. He sometimes imagined people following him, to the point that he only realised that one of them wasn't real, when he offered them a fancy lads cake. Paul was certain that it was most likely death, stalking his ass again.

      Morgan was surprised to learn that such a long time had passed as, to him, it didn't feel half as long.

      When he heard that Shrike was killing those of great power, he hoped to find her and stand in her way. It had been two hundred years, since he fought a being that provided him with any form of new challenge and today would be the day that he went toe to toe with a truly worthy rival.

        Loading editor
    • Name: Cheyenne

      Age: 69

      Sex: Female

      Race: Caucasian

      Appearance: Greying hair, wears MK II Power Armour

      S. P. E. C. I. A. L. (Optional): TBA

      Tag Skills (Optional): TBA

      Perks&Traits (Optional): TBA

      Equipment: MK II Power Armour, wears a Vault 13 jumpsuit under that and carries a .223 pistol. She doesn't assume to be doing much combat.

      Background: The Grandaughter of the Vault Dweller and Chosen one of Arroyo's tribe. She was sent out, to look for a way to save her village and ended up saving the whole of california by accident.

      Now most of that life is long since behind her. Most of her friends are dead and those who aren't have moved on, to the point that she can't be of use to them anymore. She's also not as light on her feet and strong as she once was, though could knock your average combatant on their ass, even if that did make her sore for a week afterwards.

      As a result, she's signed on in a support Role, hoping to relive a bit of that glory. Besides, Shrike might still come for her, despite her age and she doubts she could defend herself if that were the case.

        Loading editor
    • The sun rose. It was, after all, an inevitability.

      Tanner Collins stood beneath it, tipping his head back and closing his eyes, feeling heat on his skin steadily increase as the sun grew higher. The morning light was orange, and warm. Summers were hot in California, which Tanner welcomed. Growing up in Chicago, he hadn't seen the sun much, hadn't even experienced it all that much. A Brotherhood bunker was just that. The first eighteen or so years of his life he could count the amount times he'd seen the sun on his fingers and toes.

      When he'd left that place behind to travel with the Boss, he'd felt like he was in danger of falling into the sky. And the sun? It was a giant eye, watching everything they did without fail. Tanner, the boy he was, had stared at dumbly, with an open mouth. The Boss warned him that if he had kept at it he'd end up blind and stupid.

      Tanner hadn't cared. The Boss' scorn was a small price to pay, for this kind of appreciation. How many often did anyone else look up at that star above them, something so impossibly large and power, and marvel at it?

      Very rarely, Tanner thought. There were more immediate concerns than the stars in the sky.

      "Er, boss?" Tanner turned his back to the sun and faced Cable, who was leaning against the warehouse's clean steel wall. "What're you doing?"

      Tanner almost made a joke about recharging his powers with the yellow radiation of the sun, but Cable would've taken it to heart as something spectacular. "Thought I'd appreciate the small things." Tanner said, smirking slightly at his own humor. "How often do we appreciate a sunny day anymore?"

      Cable didn't reply to that, only giving him a funny look. Cable didn't know how hard it was for Tanner to get up in the morning, to slog through a day, how grateful he was to lay down again at it's end. Cable just thought Tanner got oddly philosophical at times. A warrior poet, the hero facing a moral-dilemma. To Cable, Tanner's character wasn't deep. He was a cartoon, someone who was endlessly and willfully good because he had to be. Cable thought there were no complexities to what drove Tanner.

      Tanner would keep it that way for as long as he could. The instant your heroes became human they stopped being that. It had crushed Tanner when he'd come to realize the extent of the Boss' failings. He didn't think Cable needed to suffer anymore than he already had.

      "You see the run of this place yet?" Cable said. "They've got everything in here. I saw Frank Horrigan's head. His head."

      "I haven't looked." Tanner said absently. There was a whining noise on the far side of the warehouse, and Tanner looked up as a vertibird lifted into the sky, its jet engines exhaling streams of air. "There goes Miller. Wonder who he'll bring back."

      Cable backed away from the warehouse to watch as well. He looked over his shoulder at Tanner. "Expect to see anyone you know?"

      If Kayleigh showed up right now, after fourteen years apart, would she recognize him? Tanner chuckled at the thought. How could she? At times, Tanner had trouble recognizing himself. The smile he showed Cable was not one the boy was capable of interpreting. "Undoubtedly."

      The Vertibird shot into the sky and took off across the wasteland, searching for those had answered it's message.


      Josey stood in the primary room the warehouse turned headquarters. It was brand new, not some repurposed, ancient structure. Sparkling, even, if such a thing still existed. The warehouse had many different sections--living quarters, armories, storerooms, kitchens, the artifact hall Cable had been geeking over.

      But now he stood over what Miller had dubbed the “common room.” It wasn’t a sitting or relaxation area, as the name implied, but a large open area that could be used for an number of things, such as training, or setting up displays. At the room’s center was a round table surrounded by four glass walls. The table was for sitting or standing around, maybe for discussions or even group meals, Josey imagined. The walls were for writing or maybe to provide a sense of completeness to the otherwise empty room--they were low, not even reaching halfway up to the hanger-like ceiling of the warehouse.

      Josey didn’t like it. Reminded him too much of the set-up he had had back in the Lucky 38.

      But at the same time, he couldn’t pull himself away. So here he stood.

        Loading editor
    • Jared Alma Holland
      "Agent T'ankom"

      • Age: 24
      • Sex: Male
      • Race: Human - Asian/Caucasian
      • Appearance
        • Skin: Fair
        • Eyes: Blue
        • Hair: Brown
        • Height: 6’
      • Occupation: OSI Agent
      • Inventory:
        • Weapons
          • .45 Auto Pistol w/ Silencer
          • Bowie Knife
          • Compliance Regulator Laser Sniper Rifle
          • Dragoon Wing Combat Machetes
          • Fusion Cell Grenades
          • Stun Batons
        • Apparel
          • Patrolman Sunglasses
          • Canaanite Warrior Outfit
            • Navy Jacket
            • SFPD Ballistic Vest
            • Grey Button-up Shirt
            • Blue Jeans
            • Black Cowboy Boots
            • Belt Pouches and Satchel
        • Aid
          • Stimpaks
          • Rad-X
          • Sunset Sarsaparilla
          • Healing Powder
          • Purified Water
          • Doctor's Bag
          • Weapon Binding Ritual
        • Junk
          • NCR Dogtags
        • Misc
          • Lil'PIP 3000 Mk5
          • Scriptures
          • Bottle Caps
          • NCR Bills ($635)


      Background:
      The youngest son of Ammon James Holland, Ranger Deseret, Jared spent a great deal of time learning martial arts by friends of his father while he was stationed outside of San Francisco. He grew up learning New Canaanite teachings with his siblings, but found the metaphysical aspects too far fetched. Though he was baptized, he never took it too seriously until his teacher taught him that clear vision was polished by clean actions and intent. It was only in realizing this that he made progress in the art and in following New Canaanite moral code.

      When he came of age, his father taught him the New Canaanite warrior arts surrounding the .45 Auto and how to shoot someone without killing them. It blended well with his style of martial arts, which gave him an edge when practicing with his older siblings. At this time, Agent Miller, an associate of his father's, took an interest in Jared and offered him a course leading to working with the OSI, as his father did from time to time. Ammon disapproved, but Jared joined the NCR Army as soon as he was able. Within four years, he disappeared.

      In 2290, he made contact with his father again, changed. Their exchange was brief and his father had earned his retirement, leading a new flock of New Canaanites in Shady Sands with plans to migrate east. He gave Jared his rifle, a Compliance Regulator model laser rifle, and reminded him his choices were his to make.

      Miller granted this visit, knowing well the mission he was assigning Jared to could very well be his last, if his cards were played wrong. But also, he knew he'd need his father's weapon and PIP-Boy, which he stole.

        Loading editor
    • Both Denis and Naomi had been picked up, pre-emptively as they were one of the furthest away and were both in the Commonwealth, during this time. Naomi also wished to bring Hancock as she was travelling with him, when she activated her pipboy.

      There were a few...awkward conversations, along the way, given that the three of them were on two different sides of a conflict, a few months prior and that fact grew more apparent as it was allowed to sink in. Regardless, thanks to sleep, chems and a bit of inoffensive conversatoin, they managed to survive the jouney.

      Denis quickly rose to his feet before the Vert even landed. He hated this being couped up crap, especially given that he could've teleported here, if he wanted to. He was advised not to do that as Miller didn't want Shrike to know about that yet.

      He stepped out as soon as the bird landed, stretching as he allowed his crumpled torso and stiff legs to expand once again.

      "Well, it looks like the Institute aren't the only ones who get to have nice things..." Hancock observed as he stepped off the bird.

        Loading editor
    • The vertibird slowly wound down at the three of them exited, in front of an awed Cable and a wary Tanner.  Neither of them appeared armed, although could've hidden any number of small arms in that coat of his.

      "How's it going?"  The psyker greeted them with a sincere but uncertain smile.

        Loading editor
    • Sat on one of the chairs in the common room was a woman in a lab coat and glasses. A pure stereotypical scientist look by all means. She had a slight scowl on her face and a frustrated glint in her eyes as she pondered on why this set up had to be so far away from New York. Morgan did not like leaving the city to run itself...

        Loading editor
    • Back in Kentucky a redheaded woman was eagerly looking out at the skies surrounding their farm. Maybe, today would be the day.

      It had been a few days since she secretly sent off her interest in joining this group and she hadn't told Wilkes yet, though she was sure he could tell she was up to something as this was the most excited she'd been in months.

      She'd made sure one of the fields were empty of their cows and was petting Squanto as she waited.

        Loading editor
    • The chair was straight backed, leather, with armrests and on rollers.  It was very comfortable.

      Josey was capable of matching Morgan scowl for scowl.  He leaned against the table, lazily spinning a bullet around on its top.

        Loading editor
    • The chair was not as good as Ania Rays massive abomination to the chair world. Morgan enjoyed using it, sort of as a final insult to that stupid woman.

      She leaned back anyways, running her hand over her hair in an attempt to calm down.

        Loading editor
    • Eilonwyn wrote:
      Back in Kentucky a redheaded woman was eagerly looking out at the skies surrounding their farm. Maybe, today would be the day.

      It had been a few days since she secretly sent off her interest in joining this group and she hadn't told Wilkes yet, though she was sure he could tell she was up to something as this was the most excited she'd been in months.

      She'd made sure one of the fields were empty of their cows and was petting Squanto as she waited.

      In the distance, Harriot could see a faint green dot.  It was making a buzzing noise, like a bee.

        Loading editor
    • Harriot gasped and jumped up as she looked at Squanto.

      "It's here oh goodness. It's actually here!" She practically buzzed with excitement.

        Loading editor
    • As the vertibird drew nearer, its profile became clear, the buzzing grew to a deafening drone.  Wind buffeted her as the vehicle spun above her, its tail swinging out as the pilot pulled into a landing pattern.

        Loading editor
    • "Well there's no hiding it now.." She whispered to Squanto. 

        Loading editor
    • SkyrimsShillelagh wrote:
      The vertibird slowly wound down at the three of them exited, in front of an awed Cable and a wary Tanner.  Neither of them appeared armed, although could've hidden any number of small arms in that coat of his.

      "How's it going?"  The psyker greeted them with a sincere but uncertain smile.

      "Doing great." Denis winced as he finished rolling his shoulders back.

      "I take it you were called in, like us?"

      Naomi studdied him, trying to figure it out. She suspected Denis already had as he had a sharper wit. She could tell that he was some sort of soldier and she was just hoping that he wasn't Brotherhood... or at least, if he was Brotherhood that he wasn't the type who would hold a grudge.

        Loading editor
    • Steadily, it lowered, kicking up some dust.  It was quite a surreal sight, the pristine Veritbird sitting in the dirt next to their wasteland farmhouse.

      The propellers gradually's slowed and, as they did, the door facing Harriot slid open.  A man in a dark suit stepped out.

      He wore a clean, pressed black suit. He had slicked back dark hair and forgettable, lean features.

      "Harriot Walker." The man called as he approached. He reached into his coat and removed a folding piece of leather. He opened it, revealing an official looking badge and card for only moment, before the it disappeared back inside his coat again. "I'm Agent Miller, with the Office of Science and Industry."

        Loading editor
    • "H-hello!" Harriot waved as she glanced back at the house.

      "Didn't think you'd actually come!"

        Loading editor
    • Psychomantis108 wrote:

      "Doing great." Denis winced as he finished rolling his shoulders back.

      "I take it you were called in, like us?"

      Naomi studdied him, trying to figure it out. She suspected Denis already had as he had a sharper wit. She could tell that he was some sort of soldier and she was just hoping that he wasn't Brotherhood... or at least, if he was Brotherhood that he wasn't the type who would hold a grudge.

      Tanner did not look especially dangerous.  He had angular features, proud, but also sad in the way.  A nearly faded scar ran over one side of his face.  The only sign he had ever seen a fight was the damage to his coat, and that scar.

      "Something like that.  I'm Tanner, this is Cable."  He nodded to the young man in the Vault 13 jumpsuit.

        Loading editor
    • Eilonwyn wrote: "H-hello!" Harriot waved as she glanced back at the house.

      "Didn't think you'd actually come!"

      Miller seemed to find that amusing. He raised his arms. "Here I am."

        Loading editor
    • Behind Harriot, the trademark click of a cocking rifle sounded. A man in his early thirties with a long brown beard had arrived on the scene. The lower half of his body was covered in pistons and metal rods - some kind of powered exoskeleton, for sure. He held a hunting shotgun in his hands, pointed at the bloke in the suit.

      "You're on private property," he grunted. "You've got about five seconds to start explaining what the hell you're doing here."

        Loading editor
    • Harriot rolled her eyes.

      "I called him here." She said, turning to her husband nervously. "It could be just what we need."

        Loading editor
    • "Oh he's... the Chosen One?" Denis asked, offering Cable a hand to shake.

      "I heard you were older and more... feminine."

        Loading editor
    • Before California

      With one foot on the fence Willy watched the sheep graze in the corral. What magnificent creatures they were. So peaceful and friendly. And helpful too. These nice sheep provided Willy, Kyle and Joan with warm glowing wool and sour milk that was tasty in its own special way.

      Willy could watch the animals for hours. What luck then that it was basically his job. 

      The sun was getting low causing long drawn out shadows of the animals to rise up and meet Willy. He would have to go inside soon. Joan had made marsh pea soup for supper and he wouldn't miss it for the world because Willy loved marsh pea soup! He liked a lot of food actually. He knew he had been eating way too much recently but he couldn't help it, food just tasted so good here. 

      Kyle approached Willy on his way back to the house from the fields. He knew he'd find the man here. Kyle was fifteen years older than Willy, just sixty. 

      "How're the sheep, Willy?" The farmer asked with a chipper smile.

      The farmhand nodded with equal amounts of merriment. 

      "They're okay. We're going to eat now?" 

      Kyle brought his stetson down so he could wipe his forehead properly with the back of his forearm. The fields of this farm were big and going around them was quite a hike for a man just turned sixty.

      "Sure we are, come on. It's your favorite. Ma's been hard at work in the kitchen preparing marsh pea soup."

      Willy was excited. A dopey smile ringed by his beard pushed his cheeks up and lined his eyes with glee.

      "And what about that weird radio frequency from that message, Kyle?" The farmhand asked as they walked back now, to the house.

      Kyle pursed his lips. Thinking of what to say. Yesterday they had received this strange message that none of them could make heads or tails of. Joan and Kyle obviously suspected it had to do with Willy's past of which they were both as ignorant as he, but they had their suspicions. The guy was found in a puddle of his own blood next to a dead raider after all. Armed and wearing military gear, they had thought he was a ranger of sorts at first.

      "I dug up the old radio from the shed and tried tuning in on that frequency they gave but I couldn't make much from it. Sorry pal but it seems like your past will remain exactly where it is."

      Willy looked disappointed but he hadn't much gotten his hopes up. He didn't even understand most of it really. Ever since he had been in bed for that long time, thinking too hard hurt. 

      Once they arrived at the house they both sat down at the table, and waited for Joan to arrive with supper.

      And after a simple prayer they ate. Talking about the simple business of the farm before retiring for the night. Tomorrow was another busy day for Willy.

        Loading editor
    • Wilkes raised an eyebrow and glanced at Harriot.

      "That doesn't answer any questions," he said, gun still pointed at Miller.

        Loading editor
    • "He's here to...take me to a group of folk that are going to stop some crazy woman from seeking folk like us out and killing us." She smiled.

      "You are free to come too."

        Loading editor
    • "And when were you going to tell me this?" Wilkes uttered.

        Loading editor
    • "Um...right...now!" Harriot grinned. "Surprise!" 

        Loading editor
    • Wilkes wasn't amused.

      "So you plan on just getting on that vertibird with this complete stranger?"

        Loading editor
    • "Well...yeah." Harriot smiled.

      "It'll be fun! And like I said I don't have to be alone.."

        Loading editor
    • Rick, Tyrus, Duncan, and Six were also picked up early. The plane ride from Florida all the way out to California was as it usually was; the four of them bickering and arguing over a wide range of talking points and card game rules, a few sing-alongs to the radio stations, and Rick threatening to throw every single one of them out of the vertibird if they kept annoying him.

      The vertibird eventually touched down, and Rick was the first one off of the plane. The rest of his compatriots were gathering their tools and weapons, he glanced around at the place and said. "Damn... place'd put Salvator to shame!" He laughed. He then wandered off to see who else got dragged into the mess.

        Loading editor
    • Rick, Tyrus, and Duncan soon spotted quite a familiar face. Or... well, not face. Hockey mask.

      Timothy Ashford had just stepped off a different Vertibird, checking his gear. He hadn't changed much since the last time they'd seen him, but then again, he didn't have a face to display those changes on. The only notable thing that they could see that hadn't been there three years ago was a patch on his combat vest displaying a red hand on a white field.


      Wilkes glanced at the guy in the suit again, the frown on his face not exactly lifting.

      "And who is he with, hm?"

        Loading editor
    • "Er well, some guy setting this up." Harriot shrugged. "Some of our old friends might be there. It'll be exciting Wilkes.." 

        Loading editor
    • "Well look who showed up," Rick said to Timothy. The other two who would recognize him were still on the plane.

        Loading editor
    • Psychomantis108 wrote:
      "Oh he's... the Chosen One?" Denis asked, offering Cable a hand to shake. "I heard you were older and more... feminine."


      Cable took Denis' hand with confusion, shaking it without conviction.  He glanced at Tanner, who shrugged, having no concept of a 'Chosen One' beyond what Cable had told him.

      "Cable."  He repeated, thinking Denis might've misheard.  "And I'm fifty years too young to be her. No she's... she's like..."

      He raised one hand high above his head, flat.  "She's here.  And I'm like..."

      He let go of Denis to hold his other hand at his waist.

      "The Chosen One's family founded his village."  Tanner explained to Denis, figuring the display did not make much sense.

      He wrinkled his brow in recognition, looking past Denis and Naomi to spot four men he hadn't seen in four years.  "Can't be..."  He muttered to himself.


      Miller held his hands in the air patiently as Harriot and Wilkes talked it out.

        Loading editor
    • "You don't even know who he is," Wilkes muttered. "He might as well just abduct you for all you know."


      "Oh!" Tim uttered once he recognised who it was. "Well that's a blast from the past."

        Loading editor
    • "My name is Agent Miller, WIlkes Walker.  I am with OSI.  You were military, you know my department."  He explained.  "I have my identification, if you want it."

        Loading editor
    • "OSI?" Wilkes repeated, his frown only deepening.

      "What the fuck are you people doing all the way out here?"

        Loading editor
    • "See, he has I.D" Harriot nodded, motioning to Miller.

      "Don't be a bore. Please.."

        Loading editor
    • 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.

      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.

      Bring it on, you demonic piece of shit!

      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.

      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…

      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.

      “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.

      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.

      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.

      It was at that point, that he found a letter, addressed to him…

      “'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.

       

      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.

      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…

      “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.

      “Hey, Robot! Make that six drinks!” He called, adjusting the signal to 550.97GHz L.

      “To go!”

        Loading editor
    • Denis nodded, glad that the confusion was cleared up, he stepped back and observed the reunion, quite happily.

        Loading editor
    • Tanner stepped around Denis and Naomi, and despite his appearing genial nature, he did have a bit of a physical presence, as he was larger than either of them, and quite muscular.  He moved carefully too, without wasted effort, as a fight might.  He over to Tim, Duncan, Rick, and Tyrus.

      Cable looked over Denis and Naomi, one thin and short, the other looking like someone's mom.

      "So who're you guys?"


      "Recruiting you."  Miller replied.  "I have been appraised of the conditions in Denver.  As, by now, has Shrike.  Who would desire nothing more than to kill you."

        Loading editor
    • "Amen," Rick laughed.

      "You got roped into this shit too, aye?"

      Tyrus and Duncan then got out of the plane, their weapons and baggage all with them. Following behind them was a man in a 3 piece suit and an overcoat...

        Loading editor
    • "And who is that, hm?" Wilkes uttered. "I fail to see why I should care about the NCR's problems."


      "Well, you know, I was in the neighbourhood..." Tim shrugged. "Figured I should help."

        Loading editor
    • Harriot sighed quietly by Wilkes.

        Loading editor
    • "It is actually not explicitly my problem."  Miller said, lowering his arms slightly, testing to see if Wilkes would let him.  "Shrike has no particular desire to see me dead.  Had you listened to the broadcast, you would have learned Shrike's aim is to kill you and your wife, for your participation in Denver."

        Loading editor
    • A couple of weeks had passed since Overseer Ridgemont had received the strange distress call from scout reports. They had located the source to some coordinates in the NCR. Knowing her previous achievements and reliability the old woman had happily sent Evangeline Winfield to answer the call and to pledge the Order of Salem to face the threat this woman called Shrike posed.

      Ever since, Evangeline had made her way through the wastelands, travelling by foot, and discreetly travelling with caravans whenever the opportunity presented itself. The Order of Salem didn't go in all guns blazing as the Brotherhood of Steel did. They preferred subtlety, they wanted their members to represent that attitude of theirs. So whenever Evangeline ended up in big companies during her travels, she refrained from speaking or telling them where she was headed and for what reason. 

      Now she had arrived. She was almost completely spent, but her rations had lasted her the entire way. Pure water had been a necessity to make it through these arid badlands. The coordinates had led her to a warehouse she could catch a glimpse of in the distance. 

      With a cowl and a hood to cover her head from the burning sun, she pushed onward.

      Just a couple of steps more, she thought.


      Shanks was close to seeing double. The pig piss this bar was serving, and had the stomach to call the "house's finest", was the most putrid ale he had ever tasted. But it had somehow gotten him really drunk. He leaned back into a ruined sofa with one leg on the table and the other on an empty chair next to it. The people in the bar eyed him warily. No doubt they had taken notice of his ears, his tail and his hind legs. Strange as it was for them, he doubted that he was far from the strangest misfit to haunt their locale and drink their foul-tasting ale. The outskirts of the NCR were less than friendly, but the strange distress signal his Pip-Boy had caught had led him here before it had gone silent.

      Broken? was his first thought, observing the device on his arm. Or maybe he had just accidentally turned it off in his drunken stupor. In either case, this was as far as he had gotten the signal, and now the trail was cold.

      Though his sense of smell was impeccable, how the hell was he supposed to track radio waves? Surly at the idea of losing a potential amount of caps from this mishap, he signalled for the waitress to pour him more of the ale.

      "You sure you haven't ... had enough?" she asked him, her voice in a blur. She observed his hideous animalistic appearance.

      He straightened his back and leaned forward in a clearly intoxicated state. "When I have had enough, I'll be sure to let you all know. Now, be a sweetheart, and bring me more of that foul-tasting ale."

      "Sir ... you've been downing fermented pea-soup for the last two hours. We meant to have that vat poured into the sewers."

      He glared at her with a sunken eye, unsure whether or not he had heard it correctly.

      "We tried to stop you, tried to offer you the house's finest. But you just shoved us away and kept drinking."

      "Uh .... huh ..." he murmured, not really willing to admit his mistake. "Well, pour some more of that stuff then."

      The waitress looked over her shoulder worryingly, as if she wondered whether or not the dog-man would throw up his insides for all the bar to see, before she headed over to the counter to discuss things with her manager.

      Meanwhile Shanks collapsed backwards, his head spinning and his stomach in an uproar. He truly felt like shit, and he truly felt alive.

        Loading editor
    • Wilkes raised an eyebrow.

      "Why?"

        Loading editor
    • "Aye," Rick nodded.

      "Guess recruitn'  a bunch'a god killers'd be a good place to start, right?" Duncan joined the conversation, accent as thick as it was 4 years ago.

        Loading editor
    • "If I remember correct, it was Tim and I who did most of the heavy lifting."  Tanner's voice came from Duncan's back, as he joined the conversation, grinning.  "Been awhile, guys."


      "Because it is what she does."  The special agent said simply, lowering his arms to his sides.  "Shrike is not motivated by something as base as power or as common as greed.  Her whole life has been driven by purpose.  Until recently, that purpose was simply surviving, believing that by doing so she secured the safeguard of her brother, who she loved deeply.  That ended for her nine years ago, when her brother died, and her new purpose is killing those who leave big impacts on the world, believing such a person was responsible for her brother's death.  She has included you among her list of those marked for death."


      As the ceiling spun above Shanks, a man stepped into view.  He wore a clean, pressed black suit. He had slicked back dark hair and forgettable, lean features.

      "Mr. Wain?"

        Loading editor
    • "I guess it is, huh?" Tim agreed. He glanced at the guy in the suit they'd brought along.

      "Who's your friend?"

        Loading editor
    • SkyrimsShillelagh wrote:
      Tanner stepped around Denis and Naomi, and despite his appearing genial nature, he did have a bit of a physical presence, as he was larger than either of them, and quite muscular.  He moved carefully too, without wasted effort, as a fight might.  He over to Tim, Duncan, Rick, and Tyrus.

      Cable looked over Denis and Naomi, one thin and short, the other looking like someone's mom.

      "So who're you guys?"


      "I'm Naomi. From... Boston and this is Denis, from DC." Naomi said, gesturing to the Regulator and getting a faint wave.

      "And the ghoul i-"

      "Hancock, Mayor of Goodneighbour, the finest city in the commonwealth." The Ghoul said, formerly introducing himself.

      "Well, I am biased but hey, what other city can you get an invite up to the town hall, to do jet in the attic?"

        Loading editor
    • Shanks didn't look up from where he was half-lying, half-sitting. "Who's asking?" he groaned, clearly not feeling well.

      If he didn't smell bad before, the stench of the fermented pea-soup on his steamy breath was sure to confirm it.

        Loading editor
    • "See, we need to defend ourselves." Harriot agreed with the agent.

        Loading editor
    • "Tanner's told me about DC and Boston."  Tanner had said they were both horrific dumpster fires, much worse than anything you'd find in California and Seattle, although he hadn't been to the East Coast since he was Cable's age.  "Is it nice there?"


      (Shanks' scene)

      "My name is Agent Miller, with the Office of Science and Industry."  He reached into his coat and removed a folding piece of leather. He opened it, revealing an official looking badge and card for only moment, before the it disappeared back inside his coat again.  "You recieved a message from my department not long ago."

        Loading editor
    • "Tanner!" Tim exclaimed. "What have you been up to?"


      "Yeah, well, I can fend for myself," Wilkes shrugged.

        Loading editor
    • Harry hung her head at that. Seemed she was resigned to another few years of boredom..

        Loading editor
    • "Save thing as you, your majesty."  Tanner smiled, showing he was only teasing.  "Wandering out, trying to keep people from dying.  WIth Hades dead, I needed a new day job."


      "No offense, Mr. Walker, but Shrike will not be threatened by a farmer's rifle and flannel shirts.  This is someone who tore apart an original series Institute Courser with her bare hands--that's a machine with a skeleton made of titanium, Mr. Walker, titanium.  Last week she overthrew the Courier in Vegas, she has murdered more people than we can record.  Were you to shoot her with that rifle, she would pluck the bullet out of her skin and feed it to you."  He paused.  "Literally.  I do not exagerate.  That is a fact."

        Loading editor
    • "Oh, I'll be fucked, they nabbed you too!" Rick laughed. "Well ain't this just a peachy little reunion..."

      "Save thing as you, your majesty."  Tanner smiled, showing he was only teasing.  "Wandering out, trying to keep people from dying.  WIth Hades dead, I needed a new day job."

      "I thought after all that Seattle shit, you would'a settled down..." Duncan said. "Hell, I think I took two months off after that. That's the longest I've ever been outta' commission."

        Loading editor
    • Shanks forced himself to sit up with a strained grunt. "You mean that weird little call I got on my Pip-Boy some time ago? That was your doing, meat?"

      Miller remained out of focus for him. The pea-soup had clearly done a number on him. The dog-man reached for the device on his arm, only now realising yet another mistake. "Huh... I guess it was turned off after all."

      He shook himself half awake and slapped his claw-like hands together. "So what can this mongrel do for you, meat? If you are a regular here, then no, I will not give up my seat. Find your own."

        Loading editor
    • "I thought about it."  Tanner said.  "Thing is well... I haven't been home in ten years.  What could they need from me that they wouldn't already have?"  He seemed momentarily sombered by the thought, but quickly shrugged it off. "Anyway, I thought that hunting Hades for so long probably gave me a lot of skills in the fighting-mutants department.  Decided to give it a shot."


      "I'm here to recruit you."  Miller said, pulling a chair over.  He sat down across from Shanks, and leaned forwards, pressed suit falling open.

        Loading editor
    • "Uh-huh," Wilkes said, sounding more than a little sceptical.


      "Weren't you with the Brotherhood?" Tim asked Tanner. "What happened to that?"

        Loading editor
    • "There is something else."  Miller said.  "Do you remember Thomas Hamilton?"


      "Don't know if I'm cut out for being any kind of soldier."  Tanner said.  "That never was for me."

        Loading editor
    • "I haven't been there for about ten years so... I'm not the best person to ask but it's getting better, from what I hear." Denis shrugged.

      "I remember when clean drinking water was a luxury there."

      "The Commonwealth is almost as safe as California now." Naomi shrugged, she was fine saying that as it was definitely true.

      Provided you stuck to the safe zones of course.

      "I've spent three years of my life building settlements and making a matrix of trading routes. We're practically a city state now."

        Loading editor
    • "Ah! Yeah!" Harriot grinned. "He's been a good friend. And he helped us!"

        Loading editor
    • Shanks rubbed his eyes to get a better view of Miller. The waitress finally arrived with a bowl of more of the stinking mess he had been drinking. She eyed the pair suspiciously, as they were clearly involved with some sort of illegal business. But she said nothing and then swiftly departed. The freak had been drinking the swill of a long overdue failed recipe for hours now, and she would have no part of cleaning up whatever would come up.

      "Who do you want dead, meat?" Shanks asked as he started to slob the soup down with canine gulps.

        Loading editor
    • "I think the Brotherhood'd try to hog-tie ye' down and learn what yer' powers were," Duncan pointed out.

        Loading editor
    • Cable imagined the Commonwealth as something approaching Arroyo in its magnificence, or perhaps Seattle.  It was difficult to imagine such a place.

      "You wanna go inside?  The Courier's in there, if you want to meet him."


      "The Midwestern Brotherhood is different, Chicago's at least, as opposed to whatever they were up to in Seattle.  Its different leadership.  There's already psykers who are part of it, and the whole chapter is accepting of mutants.  And even then it's my father who's in charge.  I'm not in any danger from there."  He waved a hand.  "Anyway, we don't need to talk about that.  It really is behind me.  It's good to see you guys.  I'm glad you're here, glad that not everyone in this thing's going to be a stranger."


      (Shanks)

      Miller sat back, in his element.  "It's not so much who I want dead but who you want dead.  Or, even, who wants you dead.  How much do you know about Shrike?"


      (Harriot)

      "Shrike's recruited him to assist her."  Miller informed Harriot.  "And I have very little doubt he will lose much sleep when she comes for you.  I have decided to prevent this.  It is not only you I am recruiting.  There are many others, even some with abilities similar to Shrike's.  I believe we can defeat her."

        Loading editor
    • "He's...gone with her?" Harriot asked, sadly. That was a shame, since she bore no ill will towards the slaver and he had helped them against Daniel.

      "Well...I want to come along.."

        Loading editor
    • "Yeah..." Tim nodded.

      "I'm not sure what to expect, to be honest. Has anyone actually heard of this Shrike figure?"


      "And why hasn't she killed him?" Wilkes said. "If she's so hell-bent on trying to kill the people involved with stopping Daniel."

        Loading editor
    • ReDquinox
      ReDquinox removed this reply because:
      Uh
      21:33, March 26, 2019
      This reply has been removed
    • "Only that she's apparently one mean bitch," Rick shrugged. "That high-strung string bean fella, Miller? Seemed to be pissin' his pants talking about her."

        Loading editor
    • "There are a lot of people that wants me to become a corpse, meat", the dog-man scoffed and licked his lips. Though the soup tasted awful, at least it soothed his mind (by leaving it momentarily blank). "If this Shrike wants me to play dead, they are more than welcome to come and have a try. Though I think they will be disappointed by the result."

      He collapsed back into his sofa, observing the suited man from a distance. "Lay it on me, meat", he sighed. "Who is this Shrike? I have never heard of them. And what did I do to offend them? Piss on their lawn?"

        Loading editor
    • "The Courier has."  Tanner said.  "Fought her too.  Same with the woman who leads New York, he killed her husband, or something."  Tanner had fully figured out what was going on there, but it had something to do with that chip around her neck.

      "I dont know what to expect either.  How could she be worse than Kheiro?  Or Hades?"


      (Harriot&Wilkes)

      "I don't know."  Miller said.  "I know a lot of things, Mr. Walker.  And I couldn't tell you."


      (Shanks)

      "It is more your general existence."  Miller said.  "She kills people like you, skilled individuals who change the shape of the world."

        Loading editor
    • "Wilkes.." Harriot murmured, giving him that look.

        Loading editor
    • "Does she even have forces under her?" Tim wondered.


      "Well, I happen to have an anti-materiel rifle lying in the shed, and this place is well-secured," Wilkes shrugged.

        Loading editor
    • "He's probably just getting us all riled up for a whole lotta nothing. Propaganda and all that good shit," Rick said.

      "I doubt she's gonna be worse than fighting a fuckin' demon..."

        Loading editor
    • "Sure, I might as well add the postman to my list of friends today." Denis sighed, slipping his hands into his coat pockets.

      "So... Is Shrike hunting you or Tanner? Or is it both?" He proceeded to ask as they entered the main warehouse.

        Loading editor
    • Again, Harriot sighed.

        Loading editor
    • Wilkes glanced at Harry and let out an irritated groan.

      "Stay there," he told Miller, beckoning Harriot over to talk privately.

        Loading editor
    • Harry walked over, a worried look on her face. It was always bad when Wilkes wanted to talk private.

        Loading editor
    • He didn't know whether or not he should feel honored for being lumped into the category of skilled people who could change the world. People could change the world in

      "People like me, eh?" Shanks chuckled. "What? She's not a dog person?"

      His smile faded as the putrid brew began to take its toll. Some air left his snout as he gave his chest a hearty pound. 

      "So, I go with you, I take it?" he said more steadily. "Kill some mean-spirited trollop and then be on my merry way with a bag full of caps? That's the deal right?"

        Loading editor
    • "What's going on here, Harry?" Wilkes asked. "Why did you invite this guy?"

        Loading editor
    • "SO we can go out and do something about her before she hurts us!" Harriot insisted as she gave him a smile. "It'll be a few days at best."

        Loading editor
    • "Is this because you're... bored?" Wilkes asked, seeing right through her excuses.

        Loading editor
    • "What?" Harriot scoffed dismissively. "N-nah man, this is all nipping a problem in the bud!"

        Loading editor
    • (Shanks)

      "You want me... to pay you?"  Miller sounded genuinely confused.  "You understand you will need to fight her, regardless?  Should you come with me, you do not fight her alone."


      (Harriot&Wilkes)

      Miller patienly remained where he was.


      "Definitely Tanner."  Cable said.  "I don't think Shrike even knows I exist."

      The warehouse door lifted open automatically for them, lifting up into the ceiling on tracks, revealing the large common area with its round table surrounded by four crystal clear glass walls.  Josey looked up as they entered.


      "I don't know about forces."  Tanner said.  "As for the rest. we'll be briefed on it, apparently."

        Loading editor
    • Morgan looked over too, not recognising anyone of them.

        Loading editor
    • "It doesn't even need to be our problem in the first place," Wilkes said.

      "We have a good life here, Harry..."

        Loading editor
    • "Shrike doesn't care about that, Mr. Walker."  Miller called over.  "Nothing on this farm will protect you from her."

        Loading editor
    • "Her loss, I suppose." Denis shrugged, sounding quite genuine in that.

      "So... You and Tanner are like, partners?"

        Loading editor
    • "Shut up!" Wilkes called back.

        Loading editor
    • Miller fell silent.


      "He's more my boss."  Cable said, although he had already decided Denis was cool.  "What about you and Naomi?"  They appeared to be about the same age, and probably would've made a cool duo.  Now that he saw them up close, Cable noticed the extent of their war wounds.  These were people who had seen things.

        Loading editor
    • "Hun, you know he's right." Harriot whispered. 

      "We can return here and be happy when she's gone. I don't want to be sitting here worrying over her coming for us." She added, gently taking his hand.

      "Don't you want to take that power armour for a spin again?"

        Loading editor
    • "Hm," Tim said, not really liking how little he'd been told.

        Loading editor
    • "Miller'll be back in an hour or two, once he's gotten the rest.  Let's head inside."


      At this time, the peaceful shepherds at the border of the Royal Wasteland could hear the roar of a Vertibird pacing over head, scaring the livestock, and causing the ornaments in their house to rattle.

        Loading editor
    • "I am an assassin", Shanks said. "You want me to kill somebody for you, that's gonna cost. A dog needs to eat every now and then too, you know." 

      He held himself back from releasing a disgusting burp and probably more, as he leaned forward.

      "But I am a reasonable pooch. Seeing as this Shrike wanted me dead before I even knew she existed, I will have my payment after she lies cold in a shallow grave, instead of up front. Does that sound agreeable?"

        Loading editor
    • "Oh erm... She and I met recently." Denis admitted.

      "It was erm... We had our differences, almost ended up killing one another over them but we got through them in the end. I... Stuck around to help clean up the mess, we both made."

      -

      Naomi remained, back at the hangar, with Hancock, listening to what Tanner and Tim were talking about. She was pretty out of the loop as well.

      "Well, no point telling everyone everything seperately. Unless Miller hopes to do his throat in. We know what we need to, for now."

        Loading editor
    • "Probably..." Rick shrugged. "Oh, by the way, this is Six. He's our robot pal," Rick introduced.

      "Synth," Six corrected him. He had a smooth, suave voice. "Nice to meet you all..."

        Loading editor
    • "No," Wilkes said. "I don't. I've fought enough to last several lifetimes..."

        Loading editor
    • "C'mon man...just one more." Harriot pleaded.

      "Please?"

        Loading editor
    • "Another synth, gone off of our radar." Naomi mused, with a faint smirk.

      "You're an institute synth, right?"

        Loading editor
    • "What about the cows, Harry?" Wilkes reminded her. "Who's going to look after them? And what about Squanto?"

        Loading editor
    • "And you want it in... bottle caps?"  Miller reiterated to Shanks.  "They have not been legal tender in the NCR for some years."


      "Probably..." Rick shrugged. "Oh, by the way, this is Six. He's our robot pal," Rick introduced.

      "Synth," Six corrected him. He had a smooth, suave voice. "Nice to meet you all..."

      "I think we've met before."  Tanner nodded to him.  "In New York, over a decade ago.  I don't know what Rick's told you, but I met these guys in Seattle four years ago, when that whole Prophecy of Four thing went down."

      "Another synth, gone off of our radar." Naomi mused, with a faint smirk.

      "You're an institute synth, right?"

      Tanner fell quiet at this, and looked over at Six, wondering what he'd do.


      "How much of a mess?"  Cable asked, imagining something big if Miller had seen fit to recruit them and Shrike seen fit to try and kill them.

        Loading editor
    • Harry looked over to Miller. Maybe he could help with that?

        Loading editor
    • "I can have someone look after your farm, as well as a hire a caretaker for your animal."  Miller said.

        Loading editor
    • "See? It'll be fine." Harriot murmured.

        Loading editor
    • "Preferably", the dog-man grinned underneath his hood. "Although, if you have some other sort of compensation in mind, meat, feel free to lay it on me. As I said before: I am reasonable." 

        Loading editor
    • "Formerly institute. Now just Synth..." Six also corrected her. He seemed to be leaving it at that

      "I think we've met before."  Tanner nodded to him.  "In New York, over a decade ago.  I don't know what Rick's told you, but I met these guys in Seattle four years ago, when that whole Prophecy of Four thing went down."

      "I vaguely recall. Some memories got... scattered," He tried to explain. "Rick told me about that Seattle trip. Said he went toe-to-toe with a demon king and his two god-like henchmen while the rest of the group watched and cheered."

      "That's not how I put it!" Rick spat.

      "That's... exactly, how he put it," Six shook his head. 

        Loading editor
    • "Erm... We smashed up quite a few pieces of furniture and barely stopped the apocalypse from happening." Denis shrugged, with a forced smile.

      "Y'know, the... usual.

      Turns out, we were both being played for a while."

        Loading editor
    • Wilkes grunted stubbornly.

      "I don't want to go."

        Loading editor
    • SkyrimsShillelagh wrote:

      At this time, the peaceful shepherds at the border of the Royal Wasteland could hear the roar of a Vertibird pacing over head, scaring the livestock, and causing the ornaments in their house to rattle.

      Willy looked up at the ceiling as he heard the propellors roar overhead.

      "What's that?" He asked aloud. 

      Joan and Kyle seemed to share in his confusion and the man of the house saw fit to pick up his double barrel shotgun from the stand above the mantlepiece causing Willy to look troubled. He didn't like guns.

      "You two stay here. I'm gonna see what's going on." 

      The farmer, wearing a dirty flannel shirt that had been stitched more times than one could count walked outside with his weapon in both hands. His eyes were keen for someone his age. What little hair remained on his head (he didn't bring his hat) blew scattered across his scalp from the wind caused by the whirring engines of the vertibird.

        Loading editor
    • DB Baxter wrote: "Formerly institute. Now just Synth..." Six also corrected her. He seemed to be leaving it at that

      "I think we've met before."  Tanner nodded to him.  "In New York, over a decade ago.  I don't know what Rick's told you, but I met these guys in Seattle four years ago, when that whole Prophecy of Four thing went down."

      "I vaguely recall. Some memories got... scattered," He tried to explain. "Rick told me about that Seattle trip. Said he went toe-to-toe with a demon king and his two god-like henchmen while the rest of the group watched and cheered."

      "That's not how I put it!" Rick spat.

      "That's... exactly, how he put it," Six shook his head. 

      "He wishes," Tim snickered.

        Loading editor
    • "If I may. The Institute has gone through a change in management, as of late. I just wanted to tell you that we deleted our records on you." Naomi informed him.

      "It's a form of amnesty we grant most who escaped. I saw to it personally that we wiped our entire registry, to make sure such a thing couldn't happen again.

      So... You don't have to worry about anone coming after you anymore."

        Loading editor
    • "Please, babe." Harriot pouted as she pulled at his arm.

      "I don't wanna go alone. It'd be good."

        Loading editor
    • "Y'know, the... usual."

      "I'm familiar."  Cable laughed.  Tanner's stories went similar directions.

      "Turns out, we were both being played for a while."

      "That's something I'm familiar with too."

      They approached the large round table, walking between the glass walls.  Several rolling chairs were around it, only two occupied.  He gestured to man who looked and was dressed like a cowboy.

      "Denis, this is--"

      "Josey Wales."  The cowboy said, actually tipping his hat.  He had a deep, rough voice, with a thick western accent.  "Miller told me who ya are."


      "No, caps will do."  Miller said to Shanks, as that would be easiest for him to acquire.  "I am only surprised."  He stood.  "But you will be compensated.  There is a Vertibird waiting nearby, if you are ready."


      The power of the Vertibird's propellers and engines flattened the grass as it steadily settled down at the edge of the farm.

      The door slid open, and a man in a dark suit stepped out.

      He wore a clean, pressed black suit. He had slicked back dark hair and forgettable, lean features.

      "Mr. Kyle." The man called as he approached. He reached into his coat and removed a folding piece of leather. He opened it, revealing an official looking badge and card for only moment, before the it disappeared back inside his coat again. "I'm Agent Miller, with the Office of Science and Industry.  I've come to speak to Willian Van De Poorter."

        Loading editor
    • "I don't exactly miss getting shot," Wilkes grumbled.

        Loading editor
    • "Ah, that helps." Denis nodded, in agreement.

      "I'm erm... Sorry, for your recent hardships. It's... not something that's easy to come back from."

        Loading editor
    • "Me neither but...you can do something supportive at I assume they have a base." Harriot murmured.

      "Please.."

        Loading editor
    • "Hey, I was a massive contribution to that effort!" Rick stood his ground. "You know how many fuckin' guys I shot? Quite a lot!"


      "Truly?" Six had suddenly shifted his attention to Naomi. He had thought the lack of agents had been them giving up the hunt for himself.... but all of the escaped synths?

      "Why?" Six's surprise turned to skepticism. 

        Loading editor
    • "Why can't you just stay?" Wilkes sighed.

        Loading editor
    • "No one's doubting your ability to shoot people."  Tanner assured Rick.


      Josey's haunted glare said it all.

      "Don't matter now."  He said, not quite pronouncing the 'er.'  "All that matters is Shrike."

        Loading editor
    • Shanks started to rise up from the sofa. "Sure, meat. I am ..." He made a stop and grimaced as he held back a vomit. "Just a sec .... ready", he wheezed, steading himself as he strode past the suited man on his fuzzy hind legs. "Let's go", he said and signalled for Miller to follow as if he knew exactly where to go.

      To spare the people around him the hideous sight, he pulled up his scarf to cover his muzzle.

        Loading editor
    • Kyle seemed confused by the directness. He lowered his weapon though comforted he was not. 

      "We're just simple farming folk we don't want no trouble, sir." He politely yet firmly inclined.

        Loading editor
    • "Cause I want to be part of something again.." Harriot admitted. 

        Loading editor
    • "You and your wife may be, sir, but your house guest is not."  Miller explained, approaching Kyle to talk face to face.  "He's a highly trained government agent, belonging to dead faction from out east.  He has no business here."

        Loading editor
    • Lazarus Grimm wrote:
      Shanks started to rise up from the sofa. "Sure, meat. I am ..." He made a stop and grimaced as he held back a vomit. "Just a sec .... ready", he wheezed, steading himself as he strode past the suited man on his fuzzy hind legs. "Let's go", he said and signalled for Miller to follow as if he knew exactly where to go.

      To spare the people around him the hideous sight, he pulled up his scarf to cover his muzzle.

      Miller led Shanks outside into the California sun, the same one Tanner had been looking up at not an hour earlier, then led him out towards the Vertibird, which was resting in field of dead grass not to far away.  Several troopers had taken up position outside it, guarding the vehicle, and boarded as they saw Shanks and Miller approach.

      "This is your first time in California?"  Miller asked him.

        Loading editor
    • "Who, Willy?" Kyle asked in disbelief. A local ranger he might've bought but a trained agent of some shady organisation somehow never occurred to him, not in his wildest dreams.

        Loading editor
    • "Good!" Rick spat. "I'm the best shot here, and don't any'a you forget it,"

      Tyrus snorted.

      Just then, the doors to another vertibird loudly slid open, and outstepped one of the most massive creatures that any of them had ever seen. Massive even for his race. Dressed in scrap metal, decorated with bones and trophies, and weilding a massive axe also made from rusted scrap. The entire vertibird shifted as he stepped off of it....

        Loading editor
    • "There are better things to be part of than this," Wilkes said.

        Loading editor
    • DB Baxter wrote:

      "Truly?" Six had suddenly shifted his attention to Naomi. He had thought the lack of agents had been them giving up the hunt for himself.... but all of the escaped synths?

      "Why?" Six's surprise turned to skepticism. 

      "It goes against everything I stand for." Naomi shrugged, slipping her hands into her pockets.

      "I... Took control, because I wanted change. Been working, ever since, to build an Institute that saves lives, instead of destroys them. Humans aren't listed and tracked down so easily, so it only stands that Synths aren't either."

      -

      Denis understood that attitude, he remembered it well, after his Father died. All he got out of that was months of bitterness and a bad, satanic goatie that he'd much rather put behind him.

      "Well, when it comes to killing powerful beings, you couldn't ask for a better group. Have you erm... had any ideas on how you'd go about it?"

        Loading editor
    • "Well fine." Harriot muttered, growing annoyed as she frowned.

      "You stay here, and I'll go help all on my own."

        Loading editor
    • Wilkes' frown deepened. That wasn't what he wanted either.

        Loading editor
    • "Yes, sir."  Miller nodded.  He produced a folder from inside his jacket, and held it up.  "There is proof here, if you need it, but I am sure you have had suspicions.  Had you asked him a question in Mandarin, which you obviously would have been incapable of, but had you, I have no doubt 'Willy' would have been capable of responding fluently."


      Tanner blinked as a super mutant joined them, having not expected that.

      "He one of you guys?"  Tanner asked Rick and Tyrus, inclining his chin at the newcomer.


      Josey showed Denis a self-deffacing smile.  "My last idea didn't go so well."  More serious, he shook his head.  "I ain't got a thing.  Wouldn't mind dropping something heavy on 'er, though.  Something that don't leave much left."  He grit his teeth suddenly, as a new wave of anger washed over him, and stood there with clenched muscles until it patched.  "Ain't want nothing left."  He murmured, more to himself than Denis.

      "Uh..."  Cable said, breaking the brief, but uncomfortable silence that had followed,  "This is Morgan Jones, Denis.  She's the leader of New York."

        Loading editor
    • Harriot turned to look at Miller.

      "It's alright, my husband will look after the farm."

        Loading editor
    • "It will not be safe here."  Miller reiterated.  "This is not a secure area."

        Loading editor
    • "Harry, c'mon," Wilkes protested.

        Loading editor
    • "no, you c'mon." Harriot grumbled. "You're hearin him right? She's gonna come after us and kill us anyways. Hamilton too probably. It aint safe for our cows or anythin, until we stop it."

        Loading editor
    • Rick turned to face this newcomer. "Uh... we have a mutant. He's a cook, though..."

      Brutus wordlessly approached them, craning down from his 11-foot stance off the ground and taking them in. "This is the Shrike-Killing group, yes?" He asked.

        Loading editor
    • "Nah, I've been here before the war", Shanks groaned as he heaved himself into the Vertibird. "Once or twice afterwards as well. Seems like an everchanging state. Why are you asking?"

        Loading editor
    • Not focusing on the fact that the strange well dressed man had claimed that Willy could speak the language of a citrus fruit, Kyle took the folder and leaved through its contents, holding the shotgun in the crook of his arm.

        Loading editor
    • "That's definitely not a cook..."

      Brutus wordlessly approached them, craning down from his 11-foot stance off the ground and taking them in. "This is the Shrike-Killing group, yes?" He asked.

      Tanner had to crane his neck equally far to look up at the mutant.  He was one of the bigger ones Tanner had ever seen, and near the end of his growth, meaning he was quite old.  West coast mutants got as tall as thirteen feet.

      "It is."  The psyker said.  "I'm Tanner."  He extended a hand.

        Loading editor
    • SkyrimsShillelagh wrote:

      Josey showed Denis a self-deffacing smile.  "My last idea didn't go so well."  More serious, he shook his head.  "I ain't got a thing.  Wouldn't mind dropping something heavy on 'er, though.  Something that don't leave much left."  He grit his teeth suddenly, as a new wave of anger washed over him, and stood there with clenched muscles until it patched.  "Ain't want nothing left."  He murmured, more to himself than Denis.

      "Uh..."  Cable said, breaking the brief, but uncomfortable silence that had followed,  "This is Morgan Jones, Denis.  She's the leader of New York."

      Denis nodded as Josey talked, figuring that things were still fresh. He had a lot of questions but he wouldn't bother him with them now...

      Though something heavy did sound like it was worth a shot, even just for the comedy value of it.

      "Uh..."  Cable said, breaking the brief, but uncomfortable silence that had followed,  "This is Morgan Jones, Denis.  She's the leader of New York."

      "Ah! I heard about what went on up there. It was erm... Quite lively, back in the day."

        Loading editor
    • Morgan gave Denis a curt nod.

      "Yeah. It was." She agreed, short and to the point.

        Loading editor
    • "I do believe we can take our chances," Wilkes grunted.

        Loading editor
    • "We can't and it's already been explained to you why." Harriot groaned. "Just listen to me for once and get on the Vertibird."

        Loading editor
    • "Hm," The Super Mutant nodded, grabbing his hand and shaking. Though his hand engulfed Tanner's forearm, he was rather gentle with his handshake.

      "I am Brutus."

        Loading editor
    • "Because she's strong?" Wilkes said. "'Strong' won't stop a .50 to the neck."

        Loading editor
    • "Like the senator?"  Tanner said, finding that a surprising choice for a name.


      "To sate curiousity.  Our records only go back so far.  Your pre-war life is a mystery to me."  Miller's tone implied it was rare anything was a mystery to him.


      Inside the folder were pages of documents detailing all sorts of science fiction and fantasy nonsense.  Long pages of writing about something called psychotronics, machine men called androids, subterrean aliens, and greek gods walking among man.  Detailed accounts of William in the Empire Wasteland, the Crossroads, Seattle.  Pictures of him in a green uniform with red stars on it.  Pictures of him young and old.  The scenery changed, so did the clothes, but the face was the same, as was the pistol holstered to his chest.  In all those photos was William, at the center of it all.  Photos of other people too.  An old asian woman labeled "mother something-something," the name was in Chinese characters.  A man in mask with a name that sounded made up, and with unclear pronounciation.  A Tanner Collins, a Thomas Hamilton, a Morgan Jones.  A governor of somewhere, a man with a chesspiece for a name.

      But one thing with was undeniable-- Willy was connected to them all.


      "She can recover from injuries astonishingly quick too."  Miller put in for Wilkes.  "The Courier shot her roughly twenty-one times and threw her off a roof.  It did not do much."

        Loading editor
    • "We'd stand no chance." Harriot insisted.

      "Please Wilkie, for me."

        Loading editor
    • "Yeah? Well then we're just about useless," Wilkes said.

        Loading editor
    • "Which is the whole point of setting up this thing with other people." Harriot insisted, gently.

      "So we won't be useless."

        Loading editor
    • "You are wrong."  Miller said, adding to Harriot's words.  "Alone, out here?  Yes?  But the OSI is prepared to fund you.  Someone useless would not have stopped Daniel.  Shrike would not want to kill someone useless.  Just because you cannot fight like Shrike does not make you usless."

        Loading editor
    • SkyrimsShillelagh wrote:

      "She can recover from injuries astonishingly quick too."  Miller put in for Wilkes.  "The Courier shot her roughly twenty-one times and threw her off a roof.  It did not do much."

      (When will they learn...)

      "Yes," Brutus said. "Like the senator."

      "How did you learn about that?" Rick frowned.

      "I read," Brutus shrugged. "Not hard."

        Loading editor
    • "Oh, don't feel so bad, meat", Shanks scoffed and leaned his head towards the window as they took off. "Most of it is a mystery to me as well."

        Loading editor
    • "I admire what you did for the place. Honestly, people like you, Josey and Naomi are what the world needs right now." Denis nodded, fully aware that he was a dying breed. A relic of a wild west, that was vastly being tamed.

        Loading editor
    • "What do they want?" a voice called from the porch of the farmhouse.

      Joan had poked her head out to see if Kyle was doing alright.

      "I... They want Willy..." the farmer said, trying to get a grip on things.

      He closed the folder.

      "Sir. I don't believe I caught your name?" In all the information bombarded onto Kyle he had forgotten.

        Loading editor
    • Six looked this woman up and down. "Noble of you," Six said.

      She could tell he wasn't buying it.

        Loading editor
    • "Guns and explosives worked on Daniel," Wilkes pointed out. "Guns and explosives are my thing. What you're looking for, it seems, is a wizard or something."

        Loading editor
    • "Naomi?" Morgan shook her head as she sighed and stuck out her hand.

      "Well, I dunno if I am doing any good, but it's nice to meet you."

        Loading editor
    • "Fuckin.." Harriot groaned and rubbed her face.

      "Fine we'll stay here and just die then, shall we?"

        Loading editor
    • "Agent Miller."  He reminded Kyle.


      "I'm guessing you don't like Caesar much."  Tanner said to Brutus.


      Josey didn't think he agreed with Denis anymore.  He had never been cut out for this leading thing.  It'd just been thrust upon him during a time when his mind hadn't fully recovered from taking a bullet.  He hadn't been able to say no.

        Loading editor
    • Lazarus Grimm wrote:
      "Oh, don't feel so bad, meat", Shanks scoffed and leaned his head towards the window as they took off. "Most of it is a mystery to me as well."

      Miller nodded, and the rest of the flight was conducted in silence.

        Loading editor
    • "No," Brutus shook his head. "No, I do not..."

      "That makes... probably like, 7 of us who don't like 'em," Rick laughed. 

        Loading editor
    • Denis firmly shook it.

      "Well, you can only try, when it comes to leadership. It's one of those... 'to want is to have' kind of situations."

      -

      She was also quite used to that. To be fair, he was right to doubt as she kept a backup of it, in the event of an emergency but she didn't go around telling everyone that.

      "Anyway, I thought you should know, regardless. News travels slow, outside of the commonwealth."

      "Well, Piper don't operate that far, that's why." Hancock pointed out, with a faint smirk.

        Loading editor
    • "I'd be doing better if I didn't have this to deal with." Morgan remarked, bitterly. 

      "But I got to see this through."

        Loading editor
    • "If this Shrike is as invincible as Government Man here keeps insisting, then we're going to die regardless of whether we're here or over in the NCR," Wilkes shrugged.

      "And if she's not, then I could just put a bullet in her the minute the motion sensors register her presence on the farm."

        Loading editor
    • "But I wanna go.." Harriot whined. It was her last resort.

        Loading editor
    • "Well, runing a city usually is easier if someone isn't trying to kill you." Denis pointed out.

      "I wasn't told much about you but I get the impression that something about this is personal for you?"

        Loading editor
    • "Seems like it."  Tanner agreed.  "What did Salvator Industries get into over the last four years?"  Tanner asked Rick, curious.

        Loading editor
    • "Yup. Deeply." Morgan grumbled. 

        Loading editor
    • "Well..." Kyle scratched his ear.

      "Agent Miller."

      "You're free to talk to Willy and see what he has to say about it. But I guarantee you, He's none of the things written down in that fancy raport of yours."

      The farmer turned his head and nodded at his wife.

      "Ma!"

      "Get Willy out here."

      Joan didn't seem sure but did what her husband told her. A few minutes later Willy came out with Joan. The woman had his arm around his and led him out like a mother would with a shy child. Only he was much taller than her and forty five.

      Kyle sighed and took over from Joan.

      "Willy, this is Agent Miller. Agent Miller... Willy."

      The farmhand extended a hand politely.

      "How do you do sir..." He muttered sheepishly.

        Loading editor
    • "To be honest, my interest peaked when I saw Hamilton's involvement. I thought he was dead, after our last erm... encounter." Denis nodded in agreement.

        Loading editor
    • "Good morning, Willy."  Miller said, his whole demeanor changing from efficient government agent to kindly guidance counselor.  He even softened his voice.  He shook the amnesiac ex-Thongzi's hand. "How'd you get your name?"  Miller asked.

        Loading editor
    • "Hell, what didn't we do," Rick laughed. "We've been all up and down the South and Eastern coasts hunting lowlifes and madmen as they popped up..."

      "You ever heard'a Liberty Prime?"

        Loading editor
    • "But I don't," Wilkes countered.

        Loading editor
    • "That giant robot that throws bombs?  Yeah I've heard of it, through the Brotherhood grapevine."  Tanner said to Rick.

        Loading editor
    • Harriots eyes welled up.

      "Please.." She whimpered again. "For me?"

      -

      "Yeah that dick really helped my decision." She grumbled.

      "Aint surprised he's still alive."

        Loading editor
    • Naomi stayed quiet about the fact that she kind of blew it up...

        Loading editor
    • The amnesiac looked uncomfortable and turned to Kyle and Joan for support. 

      Kyle simply nodded, signalling it was okay for him to speak to Miller. That there was nothing to be afraid of.

      "I..." His voice cracked a bit there.

      "Joan and Kyle said it was the name I muttered while I was ill."

      "When they found me."

        Loading editor
    • "Yeah well, get this... as it turns out-"

      "Rick," Duncan cut him off. "Under wraps, remember lad?"

        Loading editor
    • "What?"  Tanner looked sharply at Duncan.  "Seriously?  You won't tell me?"


      Miller nodded along with what 'Willy' said.

      "I'm going to ask you a few questions, if that's alright, Willy, and show you some pictures.  Would that be okay with you?"

        Loading editor
    • "I thought we were past the days of running off recklessly," Wilkes grumbled.

        Loading editor
    • Willy looked at Kyle again who simply kept his calm eye on miller. This assured him things would be alright.

      "S-sure."

        Loading editor
    • "I... look, lad, there's just a few stories that our boss would rather not let get out to the masses. We just-"

      "Half of the fuckin' East Coast knows about it, Duncan," Rick spat back, before turning back to Tanner. "There's more of them."

        Loading editor
    • Rick blew Tanner's mind.  "Whoa."


      Miller opened the folder again, and showed 'Willy' a picture of an old lady, labeled "Mother Chao-Xing," the second half of the name in Mandarin.

      "Do you recognize this woman?  And can you tell me her name?"

        Loading editor
    • "You might be.." Harriot sighed. 

        Loading editor
    • "I don't mean to rush you."  Miller called to Harriot and Wilkes.  "But I do have others I need to get to.  It seems you may have reached a consensus.  Will you be joining us, Mr. Walker?"  Miller asked, assuming Harriot would be.

        Loading editor
    • "I put him through a roof, after shooting him a few times and blowing him up." Denis pointed out, rubbing his arm.

      "It's hard to think that we came from the same place, given how... well, what he is."

        Loading editor
    • Willy looked at the picture. There was a glimmer in his eye but further nothing. 

      "No." He ultimately concluded, seeming confident in his assessment.

        Loading editor
    • "Remember how that went last time you did so?" Wilkes said.

        Loading editor
    • "I know the feeling."  Josey said to Denis.


      Miller nodded, shuffling the photo aside.  He pulled up one labeled 'Thomas Hamilton.'

      "How about this?"

        Loading editor
    • "I know! I don't really know the specifics of the whole plan, because we only picked up the scraps of notes... but they had whole plan for this Robot army before the war. Liberty Prime was just the tip of a fuckin' spear! We found this abandoned facility up in Mississippi, and... well, needless to say we had one hell of an odd trip after that..."

      (This story will be elabortated in Tales of Eagle Company: Machina)

        Loading editor
    • "Oh I still kick myself for trusting him." Morgan sighed.

      "And that stupid Institute woman."

      -

      "Wilkes I ain't got long, Miller needs to leave and I intend to go with him." Harriot sighed as she looked into his eyes and took his hands in hers.

      "Lifes not worth livin without a little risk."

        Loading editor
    • "Institute woman?" Denis asked, finding himself interested.

        Loading editor
    • Again, there appeared to be recognition in his eyes for a brief second but the answer was once again emphatically: "no."

        Loading editor
    • "Would not have expected such a thing."  Tanner said.  It was shame he'd probably never get out there again.  Tanner thought he'd seen a lot of crazy things in his life.  Giant robots had not been one of them.

      Realizing Naomi had been sort of on the fringe since her icy confrontation with Six, he introduced her, feeling slightly rude.  His sister would not have been proud, not to mention his wife.

      "Naomi, this is Tim, Tyrus, Duncan, and Rick."  He said, since she'd missed those introductions.  "I know them from Seattle."


      "He gave you that scar."  Miller said.  "How about this one?"

      He flipped over a picture labeled 'Tanner Collins.'

        Loading editor
    • "Dammit Harry, don't do this," Wilkes sighed.

        Loading editor
    • "Hi," Tim said, glancing at Naomi from under his mask and raising his hand in greeting.

        Loading editor
    • "Yeah she called herself Naomi Eastwood and said she was a Brotherhood Scribe." Morgan huffed. "Idiot me believed her and she drew a gun on me and threatened to take..." She paused and sighed. "To take everything from me."

      "Cow wasn't even called Naomi. It was Kaya or some crap."

      -

      Harriot gave Wilkes the smile that he knew meant she'd do it anyways.

      "Don't you be worrying now.."

        Loading editor
    • Willy again said no. He felt bad now, like he was failing at something, he just did not know or understand what.

      Joan seemed to notice and asked Miller to stop.

      "Can't you see he doesn't know? Are you sure you've got the right person?"

        Loading editor
    • "Trust me... none of us were," Rick said, nodding to Naomi. "Shit, I'll tell you plenty more. Like the 40 foot Gator Claw. That one was a riot..."

      (To be elaborated on in Tales of Eagle Company: Hell and High Water)

      "Nice to meet ya', lass," Duncan greeted.

        Loading editor
    • Naomi nodded, giving a faint smile.

      "Glad to meet everyone. It's kind of... hard to imagine there's a world, outside of your own little bubble."

        Loading editor
    • Upon Morgan saying that, Cable began coughing.

        Loading editor
    • Wilkes had really come to hate that smile.

      "Harry. C'mon."

        Loading editor
    • "Hold on."  Miller said to Joan, still having his ace in the hole.  "One more, please."


      Tanner was surprised Naomi had said that.  He had been having similar thoughts this morning.

        Loading editor
    • Harry let Wilkes' hands go.

      "See you in a few days.."

        Loading editor
    • Eilonwyn wrote:
      "Yeah she called herself Naomi Eastwood and said she was a Brotherhood Scribe." Morgan huffed. "Idiot me believed her and she drew a gun on me and threatened to take..." She paused and sighed. "To take everything from me."

      "Cow wasn't even called Naomi. It was Kaya or some crap."

      Denis stifled a laugh, given his position that was kind of an odd thing to hear.

      "The real Naomi came with me, on the chopper. I met Kaya once, actually... Never realised she went around stealing her bosses' identity.

      Still, shitty of her, drawing a gun on you like that."

        Loading editor
    • Willy was visibly distressed and awaited Miller's last one with great apprehension. 

        Loading editor
    • "Wait, folks from the Institute are here?" Morgan groaned.

      "Man, I don't want them ruining things."

        Loading editor
    • "Don't do this," Wilkes protested once more.

        Loading editor
    • "Just Naomi, I believe." Denis shrugged, folding his arms.

      "The Institute's had a change in management. I've seen it myself it's... really turned over a new leaf.

      I should know, I went to blow it up and found out the efforts Naomi has gone to make it a force of good."

        Loading editor
    • "Come with me.." Harriot murmured, softly as she backed off.

        Loading editor
    • Wilkes watched her walk off for a second, in disbelief that she was so insistent on going back into that hell.

        Loading editor
    • This definitely seems like the place, Evangeline thought as she stumbled forward with the last energy of her steps. The pilgrimage across the continent had been a strenuous one and now she had nearly naught left to spare. The warehouse towered up before her and outside a Vertibird had landed. She made her way up to the door, the sniper rifle on her back feeling like a millstone at this point. 

      She had intended to open it subtly and slowly, but with her stamina waning for each passing moment she had to push her entire body against it, in order for it to open. And it did, taking her in with it as she collapsed into an exhausted heap on its threshold.

        Loading editor
    • "Ugh please." Morgan grunted. 

      "They don't know good if it'd punch em in the face."

        Loading editor
    • Miller turned over the last photo.

      It depicted a hooded man.  His hair was concealed, as was his face, by a titanium mask the colors of gunmetal and dark orange.

      His eyes were rust colored and the photo had some how managed to capture the mocking challenge in them.

      I'm an... inevitability, you could say.

      The photo was labled, 'Kheiro.'

      "You once knew this man."  Miller said.  "But I am told, he some how ended up... a part of you.  I do not need you to tell me who he is, or how you knew him.  Tell me only if, in some part of you, there is recognition, no matter how tiny."

        Loading editor
    • "Well, I punched them in the face." Denis pointed out, with a shrug, waving the hand he did it with.

      "I guess that's the next best thing and they recognised that. Hopefully, she'll prove me right."

        Loading editor
    • "Alright.." Harriot murmured, guessing he wasnt coming. 

      "Keep the cows safe."

        Loading editor
    • Willy clenched his fists as he kept his arms straight along his body.

      He eventually answered truthfully. 

      "Maybe. I don't know. You keep asking these questions I'm not sure anymore!" The farmhand revealed exasperatedly.

      "Why are you asking me these things?" 

        Loading editor
    • Tanner had watched Eva's approach in disbelief, mainly because he did not expect to see her so far out here, especially not someone whom he had said good-bye to fourteen years ago, and hurried over to catch her arm before she fell entirely.

      "Eva!"  Tanner gasped.  "Easy!"

        Loading editor
    • The Retroriffic Man wrote:
      Willy clenched his fists as he kept his arms straight along his body.

      He eventually answered truthfully. 

      "Maybe. I don't know. You keep asking these questions I'm not sure anymore!" The farmhand revealed exasperatedly.

      "Why are you asking me these things?" 

      "They are who you are.  These are all people you know."  Miller said.  "Only you have forgotten.  But there is someone who did not forget.  She is named Shrike.  And because of your past, despite your lack of memory, she wants to hurt you."

        Loading editor
    • "Well, when she ruins everything, I'll be there to sort it out." Morgan muttered.

        Loading editor
    • Wilkes looked at the ground and grunted angrily.

      "God dammit," he uttered, legging after her.

        Loading editor
    • Willy brought his hands to his head. He was experiencing a headache.

      Joan meanwhile embraced Willy to calm him down.

      Kyle stepped in again.

      "I think you can see you've distressed the poor man quite enough."

      "What's this about a Shrike? About hurtin' him?"

      He supposed it was a stretch but asked regardless.

      "When we found him there was a dead woman as well. Could it have been her?"

        Loading editor
    • "I will... hold you to that." Denis nodded, wishing that he was talking to Josey about the death of his friends and family.

      That was... slightly less awkward.

        Loading editor
    • "Hey. We're coming, Miller!" Harriot called as she headed to the Vertibird.

        Loading editor
    • Six's head shot up at that name. "Eva?"

        Loading editor
    • Morgan nodded, falling quiet for now.

        Loading editor
    • "Friend of yours?" Tim asked.

        Loading editor
    • "Not a chance."  Miller promised Kyle and Joan.  "Shrike is very much alive."


      Miller pulled open the door of the vertibird for them to board.  He did not look pleased that Wilkes had come around, in fact he showed no reaction at all.  It was only business to him.  To get others to do what he wanted was the job.

      As WIlkes and Harriot boarded they noticed what appeared to be a humanoid dog occupying one of the seats.

      "Mr. Wain, this is Mr. and Mrs. Walker."  Miller introduced the trio as he got on last.  "They are going to be joining us as we go to retrieve our last recruit."

        Loading editor
    • "Huh?" Eva mumbled in a daze, her cybernetic eyes adjusting to her surroundings. "Tanner?" she uttered in confusion, believing it all to be a mere hallucination, before passing out from the exhaustion in his grip.

        Loading editor
    • Wilkes glanced at the dog... man... thing...

      "What the fuck."

        Loading editor
    • ReDquinox wrote:
      "Friend of yours?" Tim asked.

      "From New York."  Tanner said, keeping Eva from falling as she lost consciousness.  "We stopped an Artificial Intelligence from," he cleared his throat, "destroying mankind.  It's a long story."

      Tanner decided he would keep forever silent on the fact that they had also been responsible for releasing said intelligence.

        Loading editor
    • Shanks eyed Wilkes with the same attitude. "Shove that pair into their sockets before they pop out, meat. You ain't seen nothing yet."

        Loading editor
    • "Hello.." Harriot murmured nervously. 

      "Nice to meet you."

        Loading editor
    • "Did someone say 'stop an artificial intelligence'?" A raspy voice spoke up.

      A pair of newcomers had stepped inside, both dressed in combat armour. One was a bald Ghoul, the other a man in his early forties whose ash blonde hair had begun to develop streaks of grey.

      "Little Tanner Collins," Clyde exclaimed. "Last time we saw you, you were barely old enough to drink."

        Loading editor
    • "Well then..." Kyle once more rearranged the weapon. Clearly he was not used to carrying it.

      "...What do you suggest we do? We're not fighting people, Mister Miller. We're simple farmers. We rarely have trouble, even with raiders. Never has anyone come to try and 'assassinate' us."

        Loading editor
    • Though Shanks was good at sniffing out lies, he didn't take Mrs. Walker's greeting as a dishonest one. More or less an uncertain one, which he was more than used to.

      He gave her a short nod in response. "Ma'am."

        Loading editor
    • "I would like to take Willy with me to California."  Miller said to them.  "I can find him good psychiatric care there.  Both he, and you both, would be safe."


      "And was never going to taste a drop."  Tanner lifted Eva up without much effort. "If you remember correctly, I traded cancer for mutation."


      "Please buckle in."  Miller said to the Walkers, sitting down and doing so himself.  "We'll be taking off shortly."

        Loading editor
    • Willy let out a moan.

      "No.... I don't wanna go..."

      Joan comforted him.

      Kyle meanwhile seemed to think about it.

        Loading editor
    • "What, you can't taste booze because of that?" Clyde smirked. "What a depressing life that must be."


      Wilkes sat down and buckled in, his face clearly showing that he was not happy to be here.

        Loading editor
    • "I'm Harriot." The Redhead smiled as she nervously buckled up. "I don't like flying so, forgive me if I get...scared."

        Loading editor
    • Miller was unmoved by Willy's pain.  He really was an unfeeling bastard.

      "It's the best for all parties."


      Tanner laughed, abruptly, and very deeply.  It was perhaps the richest and most genuine laugh he'd had in a while.  So much so that she nearly dropped Eva.  "Oh believe me, I've drunk plenty.  Recently quit.  Been sober... five days."  He laughed again.  "That might change soon, though, the way things are going."  He shook his head, and quirked a smile to show he was only kidding.  "It's good to see you guys.  All kinds of old history cropping up here for me."

        Loading editor
    • "Yeah? More friends of yours here?" Clyde asked.

        Loading editor
    • "Aside from Eva here and Six over there, a few from elsewhere.  I know some people from Seattle, up north, they're here."

        Loading editor
    • "That's us," Tim acknowledged.

      "So... are you still as hopeless with guns as you used to be?" Alex asked, vaguely recalling that Tanner could not shoot his gun straight no matter how hard he tried.

        Loading editor
    • "Like drinking, that's also something I've gotten quite good at."  He pushed his coat aside with an elbow to reveal the revolver holstered to the side of his chest.  "Had to.  With the Boss'... you know.  Turn."

        Loading editor
    • "Yeah what was that all about anyway?" Clyde asked.

        Loading editor
    • "Turns out the Boss took his own dip before Clive was destroyed all the way."  Tanner explained.  "But being a ghoul and all, it didn't leave him clear-headed, and when he used his mutation to survive the destruction of the power plant it drove him insane.  Anyway, even crazy he was still a genius, and went about preparing to purge humanity.  He got within arm's reach of it too.  Tim here," he nodded in the masked man's direction, "me, and a few others managed to stop him."  Tanner pursed his lips in a bittersweet expression.  "He's dead now."

        Loading editor
    • "Should'a been there, it was a helluva show," Rick muttered. 

      "At least he rest peacefully now," Six added in, trying to lessen the blow that this was obviously dealing to Tanner...

        Loading editor
    • "It was four years ago, Six."  Tanner said, making a placating gesture.  "It's alright.  Just still gets me sometimes.  He was like a father to me.  And I killed him.  Despite all the pain he caused, it didn't change how I felt."

      It was surreal for Tanner, experiencing this all at once.  So much buried baggage, getting dug back up all at once.  He didn't know what to feel, and as a result ended up feeling only a sense of numbness.

        Loading editor
    • "It sounds like the man you killed was not The Boss. Only something worse that killed him far before you did," Six suggested.

      "In any case, what's done is done. Perhaps we should talk about something else..."

        Loading editor
    • Tanner remembered at the end that it had been the Boss.  He'd recognized Tanner in his final moments, and thanked him.

      The old man looked up with eyes full of awe.   “Tanner?”  The old man’s voice was rough, perhaps powerful once, but now weak, just like the man himself.

      Tanner nodded.  He looked more exhausted now than he ever had.  Pale and weak from his overuse of the power.  Bags under his eyes from hours without sleep.  He was someone who had come to the end of a long journey, and now only wanted it to be over.

      A question willed itself to the old man’s lips.  “Why?”

      “Because you were sick, boss.”  Tanner said softly, clasping one of the old man’s hands in two of his own. “But so was I, once.  And you helped me get better.”

      A single tear found its way out of the old man’s eye.  “Thank you.”

      Tanner smiled brokenly.

      “And now I die.”  The old man whispered.

      Tanner mouth twisted into a bittersweet expression.  He both loved and hated this man.  Hated him so, so much for what he'd done, for what he'd take from him.  But loved him all the same.  “Yes.  But it's a good death.  You die as yourself.  As you were.”

      “What a thing…”  He grumbled, as if the idea surprised him.  Tanner gripped the hand tightly.  The old man passed, clear from the way his gaze drifted away, and his chest stilled.

      "Let's head inside."  Tanner said, nodding to Six.  He lifted Eva slightly.  "I need to set her down somewhere, and Miller'll be back soon to brief us.

        Loading editor
    • When Evangeline slowly opened her eyes again she saw everything through a milky mist. She was dehydrated and weak, yet somehow she was floating. It would take her a moment to slowly realise that she was being carried by Tanner.

      "Tanner?" she asked again, her voice hoarse and fatigued.

        Loading editor
    • "I'm a Tanner, yes."  He grinned down at her, coming to stop off to the side of the common room, out of everyone's away.  "Can I set you down?"

        Loading editor
    • Her mind was a blur. It would take her some time to realise just what was going on and where she was. When her head was finally clear, she let out an exasperated gasp as she threw her arms around Tanner and gave him a long overdue hug. She hadn't seen him since the World's Fair and would wonder what had become of him and all the others at times. To finally be re-united with people she held dear was such an overwhelming emotion, she barely knew what she was doing before she had thrown herself at him like that.

      "I have missed you", she wheezed weakly.

        Loading editor
    • "You too."  He said, trying his best to return the gesture, although it was difficult to do without dropping her.  When was the last time someone had hugged him?  Tanner thought he might've gone a whole decade without another human being showing him an ounce of affection.

      "How did you get here?"  He asked.

        Loading editor
    • "I ... I wandered." She gazed around, observing her surroundings. "At least I think so."

      As soon as she lowered herself down, feeling her sore feet touch the ground, she had to lean on him as to not fall over.

      "When I first saw you ... " She began, shuddering as the sunstroke began to take its toll. " ... I thought I was done for. That I had passed over."

        Loading editor
    • "Oh and naturally I'd died first, huh?"  Tanner chuckled, taking that away from what she'd said.

        Loading editor
    • "I ... I didn't mean it like that", Evangeline reflected, not wanting to offend him. She made a short pause to collect herself, glancing back at him with her synthetic lenses. "How long has it been?" she asked. "Last time I saw you I was but a young girl, barely knowing what I was getting myself into."

        Loading editor
    • "It's been fourteen years.  And if anything, I was worse.  I was a kid too, and a naive one at that."  He smiled again.  "Too bad we both had to grow up."

        Loading editor
    • "You haven't aged a day", she said, as she smiled, though it was a sad one.

        Loading editor
    • "FEV'll do that."  Tanner said, and immediately regretted it.  Eva had been there for his dip, she already knew that.  Any lines he had in his face were from stress, the sun, or rough conditions.

      "I could say the same to you."  He amended, so that he didn't sound like a dick.

        Loading editor
    • "Please", she said, covering her gaze slightly. "I am a mess."

      Her eyes were her weak spot, and though the lenses had granted her vision back, she hated them. They made her feel less human, and inferior to everyone else.  And she didn't want to appear as weak, especially not to him. She reckoned that she hadn't left a much better impression with her entrance.

      "Even more so now", she said, still breathing heavily.

        Loading editor
    • "Guess you're the only one who aged, huh Alex?" Clyde smirked, prompting Alex to roll his eyes.

        Loading editor
    • "You look great."  Tanner assured her.  "Besides, anyway who walks across the entirety of the U.S doesn't need to take shit from anyone." He lifted his chin at the round table at the center of the room, surrounded by its four glass walls.  They didn't enclose the table, merely acted as a kind of decoration.  "You want to go take a seat?"  He asked, glancing back at Alex and Clyde.  "I can have Cable go get you some water, Eva."

        Loading editor
    • "Yes, please", she sighed. "Also I've been meaning to speak to you", she said. "Though it can wait, until after this ..." She motioned to the round table. "... whatever this is."

        Loading editor
    • "Er, sure."  Tanner agreed, curious what it could be, especially after all this time.  "Did the Order send you here?  Or did you get Miller's call?

        Loading editor
    • "The Order", she replied. "Minerva insisted that I should be the one to represent our interests after having heard the distress call. So as soon as news of trouble is stirring in the east reaches our ears, the Order of Salem answers the call."

      Evangeline still spoke as she always had after 14 years: softly, calmly and collected, and she always seemed to have a flair for the theatrical and the dramatic in the manner of her speech pattern: almost as if she was reciting some book on ancient philosophy.

        Loading editor
    • In the way that Eva was the same, Tanner was different.  The lean youth had gained three inches and put on fifty pounds of muscle.  He was more confident, assured, definitely more masculine.  The kindness and generosity that was at his core remained, but it was tempered now by half a lifetime of pain.  Eva, who had known him back in the day, could see what used to be genuine now took effort to maintain. He was only kind because he believed he should be, not because it was his personality.  Tanner was worn, his anxious edges smoothed to callousness.  He was endlessly determined now, yes, but it had taken his innocence.

      Minerva.  Ever since Kheiro and Hades, classical names had made him uneasy.  He knew the Order was a force for good, but he couldn't help but connect his own experiences.

      "You sound like you're quoting a Grognak movie."  Tanner smirked.  "Or Plato's Timaeus."

        Loading editor
    • "Now you are just teasing me", Evangeline said, pretending to be upset. The truth was it felt so good to see him again after such a long time, she would have given him another hug, if she wasn't already spent from her travels.

        Loading editor
    • Tanner grinned.  "Payback for the hoops you all had me jumping through when I was awkward and lanky."

        Loading editor
    • SkyrimsShillelagh wrote:
      Miller was unmoved by Willy's pain.  He really was an unfeeling bastard.

      "It's the best for all parties."

      Kyle sighed.

      "Well, it does mean you might get your memory back." Even if Willy as he was now, was a nice guy, the kindest of souls... Kyle still saw a tragic figure every time, and this was an opportunity to fix him. Joan meanwhile, like Willy, clearly did not want it.

      "Just promise that you'll return." The farmer added solemnly.

      Willy did want to know who he had been. But now, he was less keen. Still. He respected Kyle, and the farmer seemed to think it was best if he went.

      "I will. That I promise. You're the kindest people I've ever met." 

      This made Joan tear up and embrace Willy even harder. Clucking over him like a hen would over her chicks.

      "Just make sure you're careful. Don't do anything stupid. And wash yourself!"

        Loading editor
    • As more people came in to the common room, Morgan backed off. Hopefully no-one else would tout her around as a hero. She sure didn't feel like it.

        Loading editor
    • Naomi entered, sometime after, not really finding a place in the other room as everyone seemed to know eachother. Both she and Hancock took a seat, occasionally muttering among themselves.

        Loading editor
    • Miller waited for Willy to join him back to the Vertibird.

        Loading editor
    • As Naomi and Hancock sat down Cable, feeling a rush of power at how many people he knew, introduced them to Morgan and Josey.

      "Morgan, this is the Naomi Denis Mentioned.  And Naomi, this is Josey Wales."

      "Howdy."  Josey greeted the Sole Survivor without enthusiasm.

        Loading editor
    • "Nice to finally meet you." Naomi said as she sat up.

      "I read the report, that Kaya did about New York. It was some fantastic work."

        Loading editor
    • From a door on the far side of the room entered an elderly woman, also donning a Vault 13 jumpsuit. Her's was heavily armoured, however and had seen a lot more wear and tear over its long history.

      Unlike most items of clothing, every seem and stitch probably had a story behind it. Bullet holes, that could've been a result of a battle with the Master and his minions or maybe Frank Horrigan. Like its wearer, this jumpsuit had seen a lot.

      Cheyenne stepped into the room and admired it, taking note of how long it had been since she'd seen a command center like this. She hated to admit it but the Enclave's Oil Rig was the closest thing in terms of scale and impressiveness.

        Loading editor
    • Cable, who had been watching the doors for further arrivals, noticed Cheyenne enter and immediately tried to make himself smaller.  There was no way she would ever recognize him, of course, but he had never been in public space where she wasn't the center of attention before.  The idea that they could ever be on equal footing was disorienting to him, because they definitely weren't.  As he had said to Denis, Cheyenne was way above him.  From so high up, Cable would've looked an ant to her.

        Loading editor
    • "Don't I have to pack?" Willy asked the mysterious agent, seeing the man was already ready to leave.

        Loading editor