This mean lady named Shrike ruined Willy's clubhouse. Now abandoned in the Wild Wild West by his friends, Willy's got to do what a man's got to do, buckle up, and mosey on up north. There's plenty of varmints between him and his destination, but they're no match for the power of friendship!
1. The date is July 3, 2290.
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?
S. P. E. C. I. A. L. (Optional):
Tag Skills (Optional):
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.
Tanner did not look to be well. He was unconscious, for starters, half his face bandaged, the other half swollen. His left leg was suspended, as was his right arm, both wrapped in casts. He was shirtless from the waist up, layered in bandages, his lower body tucked beneath bedsheets. A heart monitor beat steadily next to his bed, a breathing tube down his throat.
"Er, yeah." Cable said, wondering why Kayleigh was so concerned for him. Maybe it was because Shanks was gone. She'd had the old dog and now she wanted the young buck. No-- that was stupid and super gross. Why'd he even think that?
Seeing that despite Tanner's otherwise critical condition his room seemed to be open to the public, Evangeline headed on inside after having spent the majority of her time just waiting for a doctor to give her the all-clear. It seemed all her waiting had been for nothing.
Inside Tanner's room she found Tanner still in bed. Johnny Angel was present for whatever reason. No doubt up to no good. Cable was there. And Kayleigh...
Of course she would be here, she figured. She was the one Tanner had always wanted after all.
"H-has he ... said anything yet?" she asked from the door opening.
Her blind eyes had been tinted with red from all the crying, and she had dark rings around her sockets due to her lack of sleep.
She warily approached and sat down next to the hospital bed by Tanner's side, looking him over with a distraught expression. She felt responsible somehow. Even though nothing could have prepared them for Shrike's attack, she felt responsible. She had seen how confused and distracted Tanner had become once she had come clean to him. It had taken him completely off-guard. Maybe if she had just decided to keep quiet, things would have been different for him? He would have been alert and maybe been able to hold his own against Shrike.
Now he had lost an eye and his life was hanging on a thread. And she felt it as if it was all because of her.
"I am sorry", she wheezed, fully aware that he wasn't even conscious to hear her. "I am so sorry."
Even with her synthetic lenses glitching out Evangeline could discern Tanner's form where he was lying in bed, one eye bandaged up. More static noise occured up until the point where she decided to put the lenses out again, returning her sight to the blindness.
"He just looks so ... weak", she lamented. "I only wish that there was something I could do to aid his recovery."
"Well, I figure that Tanner would benefit from blood and plasma transfusions. But, being a mutant, his genome's overwritten. His blood type wouldn't be compatible with most other human's, so it'd be dangerous to give him a transfusion, not knowing what it'd do to him." Cable explained, setting his drink down on the nearby counter so that he could talk with his hands.
"Which gives me an idea--who is the one person alive that shares fifty percent of the exact same genetic make-up as Tanner currently does?"
Evangeline was still too upset with the situation that it had made her both distracted and unfocused. She couldn't think of any other FEV-infected invidivuals in the group, at least none that she was aware of, and her expression seemed to tell Cable just so.
Rick frowned underneath his mask. That was an extremely odd analogy, he thought. He also didn't think that God was a bloodthirsty asshole like that, but he didn't think it would do him any good to point that out.
"Might need to get new Dominoes if they're wiggling around," He muttered.
"She's somethin' alright. A fuckin' witch," Rick said. "Walks around, claiming to be death herself. She snapped her fingers and made me have a goddamn heart attack right there on the spot. Freaks me the hell out."
Rick shook his head. "And I don't know what Duncan sees in her. Plenty'a broads out there who are hotter and aren't satan-worshipping fuck heads..."
"You look like a pussy," Brutus spoke. He had learned that word from Grant before he passed on. He typically used it on men who looked like Johnny. Prissy, slicked hair, rounded face with no scars. Johnny fit this description quite well.
"I am not jealous of not being itty, bitty, teeny tiny man!" Brutus huffed. The implication of this 10 foot tall behemoth wishing that he was as small and frail as Johnny was perhaps the worst insult that anyone could throw at him.
"Well, if you're not coming with us, you're going in a holding cell. If you're as dangerous as Naomi thinks you are, then we could come back to anything, if we left you alone." She shrugged, kind of deciding to escalate a little.
Brutus looked down at the fist held up to him. Grant had offered this gesture of gratitude to him sometimes, and he had to be taught what to do. Originally, he took it as a challenge and socked Grant in the stomach.
He held up his hand and very slowly tapped it against Cable's fist, before awkwardly placing it back at his side.
Evangeline followed, albeit she didn't really know what to make of the current situation. Here they were, two women who were both infatuated with the same man, off to visit his wife and child in order to save his life. What kind of cruel joke was this?
And even when he was back at full health again, she knew that Kayleigh was the one he truly loved. He was married to Pan, loved Kayleigh, and she ... she was his friend. He had always regarded her as that, nothing more, nothing less. His reaction to her confession had told her as much. Yet she loved him. It hurt just thinking about it, but she was done crying.
"Let's not waste any time", she said. "Let us go and find Miller."
Shanks snorted as he awoke from his deep slumber. "Shannon!" he slurred in his rude awakening, still half-asleep.
The mutant had wandered off from the camp in the middle of the night to be by himself, as he was accustomed to. He couldn't really stand the company of others since his transformation. He found that pretty much everything annoyed him with other people. The sounds they made, their scents, their looks, albeit he reckoned that the latter was just repressed envy.
This company was one of the worst though. Naomi was alright. He could rely on her. He didn't know jackshit about Tyrus to warrant an opinion, but both the ghoul and the cowboy wannabe irked him in the worst ways. An older, more unhinged and less experienced version of himself would have probably made mince-meat out of them both for so much as glancing at him the wrong way. But he was different these days ... sort of. Or at least that's what he told himself.
He could take shit, just as much as he could dish it out. And he supposed that there was a status quo there. Neither the ghoul or the square dancer liked him, and he didn't like them, and yet they were stuck with each other.
The worst possible fucking scenario ... he reflected with an annoyed grunt as he rose up from the tree under which he had slept.
He could judge from the nearby scent that a wild coyote had been curiously sniffing at him during the night. At least they enjoyed his company. He snickered at the fantasy of replacing the current party with all the coyotes he had been hunting Boosin with, returning to Kayleigh and the rest of Brigade as the heroic leader of the pack.
He cracked the stiff joints in his neck and set off back towards camp, having wandered one or two kilometers away to sleep out in the wilds.
What constituted for Miller's office in this place was an apartment squirreled away in one of the back wings of the keep. It was not locked and Miller was there.
The set-up was more or less the same as his office back at the Warehouse, with his large wooden desk facing the door, filing cabinets, and neat stacks of paper. Only, now it existed among the strange tedium of Renaissance decorations.
He glanced up for only a moment as they entered, never pausing in his typing.
"Ms. Carruthers. Ms. Winfield. How can I help you?"
"Must be where that Armor King fella lives." Josey said. "Reckon he's got quite the supply, if he needs a hanger for it."
Though Evangeline could not see Miller she could easily distinguish from where his voice was coming from. "We are curious about the location of Tanner's ... Tanner Collin's wife and child", she said. "We believe they could be beneficial for his swift recovery."
Shanks sat down by a nearby stream and washed his face before eventually getting back to camp where the others were and had recently awoken from their slumber.
"You lot look like Shrike's about to make an appearance in your breakfast cereal. We ready to get moving and get this done and over with?"
Evangeline couldn't help but wonder at what would happen when Tanner woke up, and in a way she dreaded it more than Shrike. It was wearing her down being this anxious about the things that had not yet come to pass.
Not to mention the trip itself would be ... interesting. It would be her and Kayleigh on their way to Pan. The situation was almost like tailor-made for for travesties to occur. The mentally unstable wife, the passionate mistress, and the blind unrequited love.
They climbed down the hill, towards the hanger. The asphalt of the air strip was cracked and overgrown. Notably, it was empty of any sign of aircraft or wreckage. The airplane hanger in comparison was in good repair, the massive door drawn closed.
They walked the length of it, kicking aside loose pieces of asphalt as they rounded to the front of the hanger.
Josey frowned at it. "How're we suppose to get inside?"
Evangeline didn't like to have to rely on help from Johnny. The man seemed foul, like there was always an ulterior motive to whatever he said and did. And she hadn't forgotten about him drugging Doris, or the strange burn marks she had personally received either. Something with him didn't add up.
Nevertheless she would be lying to herself if she claimed that she didn't need help in order to support herself in her current condition.
The entirity of the hanger was filled with power armor. Rows upon rows of empty frames. Some of them were standard (T-51bs, X-01s) but the vast of majority of them were customized. Hundreds of custom made, specially designed suits, extending all the way back to the rear wall of the hanger. Bright, overhead electric lighting illuminated the length of it.
From between the rows, a large armoured figure emerged. His armor was painted bright red, smoothed and curved like an egg shell. His helmet, shaped like the head of a hammerhead shark, had a dark visor at the center that ocassionally flashed with a blue light. The suit was massive, each of the limbs as thick around as a tree trunk, and ten feet tall. The ground faintly shook when he walked.
He approached until he was tomorrowing over them. He spoke clearly, his microphone working without static, his accent still offbeat.
"The Armour King welcomes you. I am he. I have many fabulous armors I would like to interest you with."
"She damaged the connectivity to my lenses", Evangeline lamented.
Shanks had never been a fan of Power Armors, even less so now with his canine form. There were none that fit him. But even before the Great War he had found them to clumsy, heavy, and clunky, for his taste. He wanted to feel unrestrained whilst fighting, as if nothing held him back.
"Should do." Denis grinned, rolling his shoulder back.
"Never done this for anyone else, y'know?"
"Mmhmm." Naomi admitted.
"Raided a Brotherhood of Steel Airship... Going ten years ago now? It had crashed, in our territory, so we salvaged what we could. Got enough frames, armour pieces and cores to equip a small army. Then there's the raider stuff, that we managed to find out there... I'm neck deep in Power Armour related stuff. You, however, do a much better job of fine tuning it than my people seem to."
She paused rolling back her shoulder and turning over the white X-01 suit's arm.
"This suits my baby, more or less... My own personal set."
"I... I have my own", Evangeline said sheepishly, waving her wrist around for them to see. "Problem is that I can't type the coordinates blind, and the coordinates ... well, they are for my eyes only. Figuratively speaking."
Evangeline didn't want to say that she didn't trust Kayleigh, because she did. It was more of the principle that it was better for Kayleigh to remain unaware of the Order of Salem's contacts. If other outside forces knew that Kayleigh sat upon such information they could make her share it, with the help of violence. And Evangeline didn't want that.
"Guess there is no helping it in this case", she moped.
That did nothing to Angel's self-esteem. He suspected this woman fucked dogs due to her smell. And he didn't really care for the preferred aesthetics of a woman who has sexual intercourse with canines.
They reached the bridge that led from Mercer Island back onto the mainland. They followed the shore of Lake Washington south, the grasslands to their east, the road ahead of them. They passed through Renton in Beacon Hull. They walked among the ruined, shattered giants of Seattle. They passed beneath South Tower, the forner headquarters of the Cause. It stood more ruinous than most, having suffering a direct assault by the Brotherhood of Steel during the Battle for Seattle.
The sky was overcast this day, and stiff wind tore down the street, amplified by the buildings as if they were in one, massive corridor.
The Armor King inspected Rick. He reached out with one cannon-like finger and poked the ghoul in the mask.
"Your armor is also bad. Worse than her's. You should trade with the Armour King for some of his most amazing armors."
Once Evangeline had gotten the help required with the coordinates she managed to get into contact with the Order, albeit the signal was very weak and the quality of the transmissions was less than stellar.
"Hello...?" a raspy voice said on the other end through the static. "Who is this? State your number."
"999", Evangeline said.
"Eva? Little Eva? Is that you? Haven't heard from you in a while."
Jacob Sprenger was one of the few ghoul members of the Order, and according to Minerva he had been one of the original founders, though he had dismissed that claim entirely. He served as the Order's weaponsmith, having been a technician and inventor in the Vault he grew up in. He had helped to install her lenses, but unlike other members of the Order he had confined himself to the hidden headquarters back in Salem, preferring to stay put.
No one could really blame him. If the Order lost Jacob due to recklessness or accidents while out on assignments, they would have lost not only a very loyal friend, but also a most valuable asset.
"Yes, it's me. There has been some ... trouble here."
"Trouble?" Jacob said askingly through the static. "What kind of trouble?"
"It's my eyes. I ... I was kicked in the head. And the lenses are now acting up. When I turn them on, all I see is noise and static, and error logs."
"You poor thing", Jacob lamented. "But you know I can't really just up and leave Salem, not even for you, sweetie. No matter how much I would like to."
"I know", Evangeline sighed. "That's why I am asking if you know any ... people of similar skills present in Pennsylvania? That's where I am currently headed."
"Pennsylvania, eh? Let me see." There was the ruffling of papers in the background through all the radio noise. "Yeah, I know I guy there. Exactly where in Pennsylvania are you headed?"
"Falling Water is the name of the place."
"Hmm... It would seem you are in luck, sweetheart. Guy I know lives just on the outskirts of The Pitt. Not exactly the friendliest of fellows, but he knows his way around high-end technology. Former Institute and whatnot. Shouldn't be a problem for him. I reckon that there are some connectivity issues you are having, so he will have that sorted out in no time."
"Wouldn't that require ... that he performs a surgery?" Evangeline asked anxiously.
"That it would", the ghoul confirmed. "But you are one tough cookie, Eva. Nothing you can't handle. Might hurt, and it might not. What matters is that you get those blinkers of yours up and fixed, sort your assignment out, and get back home safely. I'll let him know that you are coming and will send him the fee."
"Thanks, Jacob. Also ..." She glanced over her shoulder, not really wanting Johnny or Kayleigh to be listening in. "Say hi to mama and papa for me, would you? Tell them that they don't need to worry and that I will be back home eventually."
Jacob chuckled. "That I will. You take care now, sweetie. Don't let the baddiest get you. Seriously."
The transmission then ended with even more static. They were after all far far away from Salem. It was a technological wonder the signal even held up as well as it did.
"You are a smart lady." The Armour King said, stepping around, clomping down the main aisle between the rows of armors. He waved one tree trunk arm, servos whirring, gesturing for them to follow. "The Armour King hears you want to trade. What do you have to offer?"