I have changed the plot line a bit to make it easier and more understandable i hope. if we have enayone else who'd like to join late please PM me a sheet

And would like to say thanks to te colonel for going over this and making it better than i did its still the same just bette written, again thank you.

In 2285, the New California Republic and the independent city of New Vegas struck a truce... in the hopes that such an alliance would be enough to help them in the coming days. With the newly bolstered ranks of NCR soldiers working in tandem with a freshly raised 'New Vegas Militia'... Caesar and his legion of slaves were almost entirely defeated within the opening weeks of 2286. Since then, the allegiance struck has solidified... and tensions which had been building for some considerable deal of time eased.

Over the course of the following years, however, some traces of Caesar's broken legion remained. Slowly, but surely, these disparate entities were drawn together by a new figure. Equally charismatic, but far more secretive and paranoid, it would seem that the Legion has radically altered it's plans for New Vegas.

The year is now 2292, and the conditions surrounding New Vegas are beginning to improve greatly. Thanks to the dedicated work of a great many scientific minds, pure water... and even food... is now being made available. There are some who might even claim that New Vegas... and the surrounding Mojave Wasteland... is on track towards the place it had been before the Great War, though they are largely accused of being overly optimistic. Among these is General Holloway of the NCR. Convinced that the threat to a lasting peace is very real, he has begun assembling a Special Operations unit within the existing Secret Service, in the hopes of routing out this newly formed splinter of Caesar's Legion... learning their motives... and destroying them before they can act against the alliance. The best soldiers, agents, and operatives of the NCR army have been sought out... the finest Paladins of the Brotherhood of Steel loaned out. Whatever the New Legion's plans, one thing is clear... they need to be stopped... and quickly... or everything that the people of the Mojave Wasteland have been building will have been for naught.

Agent, your directives are as follows:

Your unit will be rendezvous with operative Desert Orchid at the Cougar Club, on the New Vegas strip. It is imperative that you let Desert Orchid know ‘The Horse is a Palomino’. From there, Desert Orchid will escort you to Fortress. Fortress is, by far, the single-most advanced military facility within the NCR. It will serve as the base of operations, over the course of your campaign. Once you have linked up, and settled in, further information will be given.

Oh, and before I forget.

Welcome to Dagger Team.

Gen H

You have no knowledge of who Desert Orchid is, all you know is you are needed and will die for the Alliance if needs be.

Rules: The usual but I’ll go over them

1. No character controlling
2. No god modding
3. At least paragraph posts please
4. Have Fun

I am also looking for a co host, preferably and experienced RP’er. Just shout up if you interested

Me:

Name: Sarah Noble
Code Name: Desert Orchid
Age: 28
Nationality: Australian
six: Female
Appearance: http://www.imfdb.org/images/thumb/2/2e/Chuck-AgentSarahWalker.jpg/400px-Chuck-AgentSarahWalker.jpg
Alliance Side: NCR – Undercover Operations
Amount of time served the alliance: Ten Years

Skill Set: Pistols, Knifes, Hand to Hand, Silver Tounge, Marksman and Stealth

Weapons: http://www.tactical-life.com/online/wp-content/uploads/2008/09/unknown-3.gif Pistol that has a small chain with a ring hanging of the grip, Combat knife that has ‘Sometimes it helps to know you’ve got something to loose’ etched along one side of the blade

Clothes: Blue Jeans, White Short sleeved T-shirt, Open leather jacket and leather boots which go halfway up her shins but are covered by the jeans

Personality: Sarah is a level headed person, able to make quick decisions on the fly Sarah lives in the now so she hides a lot of things from her past that pain her, especially the history behind the ring on her gun She is somewhat cold to people at first but once she gets to know them and them her she loosens up and becomes more fun and will be your friend for life.

Bio: Sarah had nothing when she was sixteen, Her father was dead and her mother had all but vanished She fended for herself for two years when one day a man tried to stab her in a club, needless to say she put him down hard, an NCR undercover operative saw her and recruited her she has been serving since and has seen a lot of operations – with only one botched op. She has been contacted by General Hollaway for her next mission - she is leading Dagger Team, she doesn’t even know who else will be in the group all she knows is they have to find her in club cougar tonight and none of them know what she looks like Entering the club she remembers one phrase ‘The Horse is a Palomino’.


please post your CS and then you are free to post, i will have my first IC up soon

Name: William Snowe
Code Name: "Winter"
Age: 29
Nationality: Asian
six: Male
Appearance: http://i773.photobucket.com/albums/yy19/DarkZerkerX/Fallout3Profile.png [src=""http://i773.photobucket.com/albums/yy19/DarkZerkerX/Fallout3Character.png"]Full Body Profile(taken from Fallout 3)[/url]
Alliance Side: NCR, Deep Undercover Division
Amount of time served the alliance: 8 years

Skills
1. Small Guns
2. Sneak
3. Science
4. Lockpick

Perks
1. Silent Running
2. Commando/Gunslinger

Weapons/Arsenal

Deep Undercover
1. Uzi w/ Silencer & Extended Magazine
2. Beretta M92(9mm pistol)
3. C4(Two explosives)

Battle
1. M16A4 Assault Rifle
2. Cheytec Intervention
3. Beretta M92
4. Plasma/Pulse/Frag Grenades(depends on the fight)

Clothes:

Deep Undercover
A fedora w/ a long coat to conceal weapons. Long coat looks like regulator coat. Most of the time, also sunglasses as seen in appearance.

Battle
Desert Camouflaged Dragon Skin Body armor, same armor as the appearance. Also traditional fedora.


Personality: William is a very resourceful, tactical, and merciless man. He's very cold to his enemies and only lets them live if they serve a purpose. Even to his own team, he's not very open and doesn't trust them. William is also very calculating when it comes to his decisions and only picks the one that benefits the mission. Very obsessed with the mission, he doesn't care who he kills to finish all the parameters of the mission. Whether it be setting fire to a school or detonating an explosive in a highly crowded casino.

Bio(I'm making my character very detailed so bear with me)

Place: William grew up in a town the size of Megaton in Washington State. The town was comprised of China's allies and spies, mostly Korea, Tibet, American traitors, European and Middle Eastern spies, and Japan. The town had existed since the beginning of the Post-War era but only began to thrive when a working purifier was found in a large restaurant. The town's name was known as, "Winter's Dawn." That name became the horror of the North West Coast as that small town with a population of about five hundred, was able to create an army of nearly 4/5 of the entire population. Winter's Dawn only believed in War and Education. Either you're a soldier, an intellectual, or excel at both and become a "Shock and Awe Unit." Each child is tested for what they are best at genetically using a similar test to the GOAT when they turn 12. William excelled at fighting and tactics, while also being decent at medical, making him the medic for the Shock and Awe, not to mention, a very competent agent.

History: William was born to the General of Winter's Dawn, Michael Snowe, and his mother, Cassandra, the town doctor. The pair taught William just like every parents do until William turned 12, in which he was eligible for the Shock and Awe unit. When he turned 18, he was in the unit and was the first to detonate a MOAB bomb in a city. He wasn't very strong physically but still strong enough and natural with a gun to be the medic and infiltration unit of the unit. When he turned 20, his squad was killed in a failed infiltration mission in Idaho. Too far away to go back, he stumbled upon the NCR after traveling south and became a Deep Undercover agent. For one year, he was a rookie who shot up the ranks due to his experience from Winter's Dawn and for the next 8 years, he became what he was back in Winter's Dawn, an infiltration unit and spy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Name: Evelyn Manchester
Code Name: "Summer"
Age: 26
Nationality: Asian
six: Female
Appearance: http://i773.photobucket.com/albums/yy19/DarkZerkerX/Evelyn.png
Alliance Side: NCR, Deep Undercover Division, Support
Amount of time served the alliance: 6 years

Skills
1. Medicine
2. Science
3. Repair

Perks
1. Fast Metabolism

Weapons

Deep Undercover
1. Silenced 9mm pistol
2. Throwing Knives
3. Winter's Dawn Shiv - A small kukri with a snowflake, the emblem of Winter's Dawn, engraved on the side.

Battle
1. Tranquilizer Gun
2. Infiltrator Assault Rifle

Clothes:

Deep Undercover
1. Pink hairband
2. Wasteland pants
3. light blue jacket/hoodie

Battle
1. Dragonskin combat armor, Desert Camo
2. Anti-Bacterial gloves(for treating patients)

Personality: Evelyn is the exact opposite of William. When William burns down schools, she goes for a diplomatic and non-violent route for looking for information. She cares about morality and believes in the goodness of mankind, something that's rare for a Winter's Dawn citizen to have. Even so, Evelyn has a loving nature towards William and his squad. Even when in the Deep Undercover unit, she keeps caring for the squad.

Bio(Again, very detailed)

Place: She grew up in the rich side of Winter's Dawn. The rich side had running water that was mostly purified due to the quick dissipation of the radiation from the atmosphere from the large amounts of cave fungi in the Cascade Mountain Range. They even managed to get a working generator that powered the rich side, which consisted of about fifty people. With that, they got working television(just propaganda, reruns of Disney Cartoons, and Emergency broadcast), a radio that spanned all of the West coast, and basic boiler styled heating. The rich side consisted of all the important people and their families. The General, the radio station owner, the Dictator, and the major company/caravan owners. Caravan owners controlled large caravan businesses that transported goods all over Washington State. Mostly parts they scrounged up from the non-working generators and failed ones.

History: Evelyn was raised as the fourth richest person in the town. Her father was the owner of the company that supplied food and water to the rest of the town, making her the richest non-government worker. Her mother had died in a massive tribal invasion when she was four, still making her fear tribals to this day. Evelyn, just like every child, took the test. She barely scored high enough on the physical exam to be posted into William's training squad, as a medic. Evelyn eventually befriended William and started to date. Although both parents liked the couple, Evelyn's father was wary about being marrying somebody who had power almost equal to the Dictator himself. When William's squad was ambushed, Evelyn and a couple other soldiers survived. She went to New Vegas with the other soldiers and William to work as a field medic for the NCR and a Deep Undercover agent.

The NCR calls her "Summer" teasingly because of her warm nature and total difference between William and herself, even though the two are dating. The pair, able to work together well in operations, was affectionately called, "Summer & Winter" by the NCR Colonel.

Character sheet:
Name: Lucas Scottsdale
Code Name: “Echo”
Age: 38
Nationality: American (Caucasian)
six: Male

Appearance:
Years of lone wandering in the Wastelands under brutal conditions has made Lucas’ exterior as hard as the Earth’s crust. His skin is rough and frequently scarred, and his shoulder-long hair is coarse. Still, he is not an ugly man – in fact he’s quite handsome, if you don’t mind the ruggedness.
Lucas normally doesn’t have much time for cosmetics, so his face is varying degrees of beard (depending on how long he’s been out in the Wastes). His hair used to be nut brown, but now has some sinister gray stripes in it. Behind his Aviator sunglasses hide deep emerald green eyes.
He’s not very tall – let’s say about normal height – but has a compact, muscular build.

Alliance Side: NCR Rangers
Amount of time served the alliance: 18 years

Skill Set:
Primary:
1. Guns (especially snipers)
2. Sneaking and hiding
3. Close Quarters Combat (CQC - mix between unarmed and use of short knives)

Secondary:
4. Survival
5. Explosives
6. Repair (gear and weapons, not much heavier equipment)

Weapons:
"Casual" armament:
Heckler & Koch USP.45 CT (8 round magazine, .45 ACP), w/ Suppressor and extra magazine
Ammo: 32 rounds .45 ACP
Fairbairn-Sykes Fighting Knife

In addition, while in Ranger attire:
Accuracy International AW50 Sniper Rifle
(5 round mag., .50 BMG 12.7x99mm) w/suppressor, scope and extra magazine
Ammo: 10 incendiary rounds, 10 explosive, 20 regular 12.7x99mm

KA-BAR Combat Knife (strapped to chest)
2 x Fragmentation Grenade
2 packs containing 2 lb of C4 each w/remote detonator

Clothes:
Black motorcycle leather jacket
Black wool commando sweater
Tan keffiyeh
Marine’s desert camo pants
Combat boots
Brown ("Indiana Jones-style") fedora
Ray Ban Aviators
Utility belt (w/ flashlight, binoculars, ammo)

When patrolling the Wastelands, Lucas wears the coat, helmet and top half of his well-deserved NCR Ranger’s Combat Armor

Personality:
In his early years, Lucas spent most of his time wandering alone in the Wastes, only coming back to his home settlement to restock and have some minimal rest every other week at most. This has made him very self-reliant and he does not look to other people for help. Strangers seldom see anything but his tough exterior and he doesn’t encourage friendliness.
Still, during his training to become a commando and the squad-based fighting of the NCR’s campaigns, he has seen the value of co-operation. He obeys direct orders impeccably and carries them out as given as long as it serves the goal of the mission, though if he sees alternative ways of solving tasks, and thinks his own way is better, he will divert from the orders given. The results this method provides has kept his superiors from complaining.
After a long military career, Lucas no longer has any qualms at all about killing. He will do it without flinching, even to opponents who haven’t had a chance to defend themselves. "Chivalry", he claims, "is for people who are either dumb, arrogant or don't value their lives highly enough."
His favorite weapon is his .50 anti-materiel rifle. As he puts it: “This beauty can blow your head straight off with one shot – and that’s with standard ammunition. Of course I use explosive and incendiary tips. I don’t consider it overkill – I consider it doing my job properly. Besides, it’s the only decent thing to go super mutant hunting with.”
One of the things that made Lucas a proficient sniper from an early age was his excellent sight - not only does he see far, but he also notices things that would go overlooked by others, and he has a terrific perception of his surroundings. This doesn't only apply to his sight -- he's got very good hearing as well, and he's a man it's difficult to sneak up on from behind.

Bio:
Lucas was born into the Desert Ranger Faction in California in 2254. He was taught both fighting and survival skills by family members there. From the age of 18, he spent most of his time alone, exploring the Wastelands, hunting mutants and beasts. When his faction was brought into the NCR in 2271, the NCR Rangers tried to recruit him – but he was reluctant and didn’t join before he was 20 – in 2274.
Because of his merit as a survivalist and sniper, he quickly rose in the ranks.
For his services in the New Vegas Campaign that started in 2281, he was promoted to Captain. By this time he had underwent arduous training to become a high-class Commando, which would be his role up to present day. He has led several successful covert operations in recent years, and is a living legend among marksmen all along the West Coast and surrounding areas. He doesn't feed the rumors about himself, and very rarely lets people know that he is the man in that legend. Rather, he prefers going under code names - such as "Echo" for this mission.



In Character:

A gust of the harsh Mojave wind envelops Lucas in a cloud of dust and sand as he exits the old car wreck that he's hidden his Ranger gear in. It's not easy for him to leave his trusted rifle and armor behind, but he knows that nothing's more important than discretion in the kind of circumstances he now finds himself in. He's had more than enough experience in his profession to know that when his superiors choose to be sparse with info on a mission, it's probably best to keep a low profile until you know what you're up against. This is why he's now in civilian garments - a typical Wastelander in a worn leather jacket and camo pants tucked into combat boots whose better days must have been before he was even born - and probably weren't that good in the first place. In this attire, he sets towards the inhabited part of New Vegas.

"Sin City" they used to call it, he tells himself as he stops at a corner and makes sure no one is following him. Wonder what kind of Sins I'll have to commit this time around.

While walking, he silently repeats the recorded message he received a week earlier, telling him of his current mission. Cougar Club, Desert Orchid, "The horse is a Palomino" - it's got the smell of covert operation all over it, all right. Welcome to Dagger Team, indeed. That smell is becoming quite familiar to him now. It's not a stench, but he doesn't quite like it either. He'd rather be back in the old days, when he could wander as he wished, not reporting to anyone. The freedom is what he misses - to be able to disconnect entirely from society and let the wilderness have him. This urban setting is not what he would choose if it was up to him.

I freaking hate this. Too many buildings. Too many corners, rooftops, dark alleys -- all potential ambush sites. Hate this. Hate this, he repeats to himself as he slowly progresses through the rubble. He feels naked and unprotected here, with only a handgun and a knife to protect himself. And no warning whatsoever if one of those greedy raiders that I'm sure are hiding here fancies my hat and decides to claim it.

Soon after he's faced by a wall of old billboards and planks nailed together to keep intruders out of New Vegas. From across the street, Lucas makes sure there' not patrols around. When he neither hears nor sees anything, he deems it safe to approach the wall. Behind a rusty container filled with trash, he locates the cellar window he used to gain entrance last time he came to visit. At first glance, the window looks too small to fit through, which is probably why it's been overlooked, but Lucas knows better than to trust first glances. After some moments of squeezing, his feet hit the floor inside, sending up a dense cloud of dust. No one's been here in a long time.

Lucas stands still for a few seconds to let his eyes adjust to the lack of light. Some sharp scurrying noises makes his hand go automatically to his gun, but immediately after he identifies the origin of the sounds as rats, and he relaxes his grip on the weapon. He can now make out contours in the darkness, and he moves stealthily towards a stairway in the other end of the room. The stairs lead up to a door, which opens into a hallway of an old office building. Lucas makes his way up a couple of floors and finds a window that looks out into an alley. This window he climbs out of, and jumps gracefully onto some old pipes that connect the office building to the building across the alley. The pipes squeak alarmingly under his weight, but he traverses the alley quickly and without harm, and climbs the fire escape stairs on the new building.

A broken door becomes his next entrance, and when inside, he finds his way to the ground floor. He's now in the lobby of what appears to be a derelict theater. His boots rustle through the empty popcorn buckets, candy wrappings and paper soda cups that litter the floor. An old Nuka Cola vending machine's broken neon lights flashes desolately in a corner, but the machine yields no refreshments to Lucas when he breaks it open. Damn, I could need a real drink. This place is drier than a ghoul's six life, are the thoughts that go through Lucas' head as he opens his canteen and sips from it. They send me to Sin City - [censored] Sin City! - and demand that I keep sober at all hours... This job had better be really important to someone.

When his thirst is quenched, Lucas heads towards a small doorway in the far end of the lobby. He walks through and ends up in a narrow corridor where a pile of rubble is all that remains of what used to be the wall against an open square just outside. Lucas peeks outside to make sure no one's around to see him emerge from his clandestine city entrance. There's no sign of life outside, so he brushes off the dust on his jacket and heads towards The Strip.

"The Horse is a Palomino," he mutters to himself. I'm sure it is, but I sure as hell hope this "cutting edge underground base of operations" of theirs has a proper bath and a good razor.

William&Evelyn

"Come on Evie," William said with a hint of a playful tone in his voice. Evelyn quickly grabbed her medical supplies and headed outside. The glaring sunlight shone down on the pair as they headed outside of their temporary hotel room into the Vegas Strip. NCR troops staggered around as the two started towards the Cougar Club.

Evelyn pointed at a small building, "Sweetie! It's over there!"

William grabbed a cigarette and tipped his fedora to see the Cougar Casino. He nudged Evelyn, "Evie, remember the code."

She nodded, "The Horse is a Palomino."

"Good, now let's head in."

The two agents walked towards the casino, talking along the way. "You know, we haven't had any covert missions since the incident with Winter's Dawn."

"Yeah yeah, don't remind me." William quickly said, trying to forget the memories of what had happened all those years ago. Evelyn quickly changed the subject, "Dagger Team...so are we still going with the Summer and Winter code names?"

William nodded and shoved a stick of gum in her mouth, "Shut up and chew your gum." She smiled at William and opened the doors to the casino.

Name: Theodore "Theo" Ryder
Code Name: Ex Machina ('Ex' for short)
Age: 47
Nationality: American
six: Male
Appearance: click the link for appearence: http://images2.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20080309203711/turok/images/thumb/0/03/Kane0.jpg/250px-Kane0.jpg
Alliance Side: NCR, Inflitration and Reconisance unit, and Sabatuoer unit. was Second-in-Command in both
Amount of time served the alliance: 34 years

Skill Set: Lock Pick, Hacking, Hand-to-hand, melee, Pistols, Sabotage
Weapons: a stainless-steel 44. revolver, long attachable/detachable silencer to go along with it, and no scope. switch blade
Equipment: a small device he uses to store intel, data and sound recordings, also has a holomap in it, a silver ring he wears and a satchel.

Clothes: Black n Grey heavy jacket, Grey Turtleneck, black jeans, black boots, has a holster on his left leg, and keeps a small holder on the sleeve of his arm to hold his switch blade under his jacket sleeve.
Personality: a By-the-book soldier and officer to the NCR, is a hard-ass when it comes to following protocol and orders. He is an easy-going person with a temper problem. has no remorse for human life whatsoever, isnt afraid to pull the trigger on a few innocent civilians. he is a mentally unstable person, mostly from the trauma of seeing people, and beloved friends being killed while in service of being a soldier for the NCR for a long time.

Bio: Theo Ryder joined the NCR when he was 17, rose through the ranks quickly but was demoted when he had a rough downfall of physciatric stress from seeing a blood-shed out in the desert in a small village, kept in the NCR because hs is a good soldier and is not afraid of dying, gives others courage that with him they could win a battle or two. in his Prime he was apart of an Inflitration and Reconasiance team for the NCR for a good number of years, then as he got older he was reassigned to an elite Sabatuoerist unit for sabotage and Undercover, trained to an exstensive line for his abilities he is able to scale a wall and onto a roof and jump a good distance, with his elite training his cardio is amazingly excellent and can run without taking stops but like every human being, he will get exhuasted. Years in his Elite unit, he was always second-in-command, only once was his Supirior was killed on a mission and was forced to take command and finish a mission. Following up to now he recieved a message from General Halloway, he has memorized the phrase from the mesaage.

ICC:

A week before

Dim lighting, wind blowing around the shack he calls "Home away from Home", the sound of metal creaking, clicking and clacking is music to this ears, lifting weights in the basemant, a bare empty room with out a bench and welded make-shift weights he uses everyday and night to work-out when he isnt scaving or recon in the Mojave Desert, just three miles away from Vegas he can see lights off in the distance.
Fifteen minutes after work-out, put on his turtle neck, and his heavy jet-black and grey coloured jacket and starts polishing his boots. His small ringing from his alarm system activates, he hears people outside and backs up by the door, as he see's the door open and grabs the hand from the opening and flips the figure on the wooden table in the center of his room, having his Revolver bent on the head of an NCR agent, he stops and sees three other agents along with General Halloway following behind them.

"Stand down, Soldier... i have something for you, details are on a 'Need to know Basis', just follow the directions in the message. I thought I'd make this delivery myself because you'd most likely kill my messanger." Gen. H said.
Theo salutes and grabs the holotape and map to his destination.
"Thank you sir, and you triggered my alarm... Apologies, Sir." Theo said, "The Feeling is mutual... I take my leave Thedore."
"It's Theo... uhh... Sir." The two shake hands and leave.

Theo sits down and turns on the holotape;

Agent, your directives are as follows:

Your unit will be rendezvous with operative Desert Orchid at the Cougar Club, on the New Vegas strip. It is imperative that you let Desert Orchid know ‘The Horse is a Palomino’. From there, Desert Orchid will escort you to Fortress. Fortress is, by far, the single-most advanced military facility within the NCR. It will serve as the base of operations, over the course of your campaign. Once you have linked up, and settled in, further information will be given.

Oh, and before I forget.

Welcome to Dagger Team.

General Haloway out.

He holsters his revolver, destroys the message and takes the map and uploads it into a small rouch device he keeps in his satchel, he puts on his satchel, buttons up his coat and walks out closing the door behind him and see's New Vegas out in the distance.

Today, Now...

Sitting outside the Cougar club smoking a cigar, people walking up and down the strip, he seen a seemingly cute couple walk inside and muttering something about a 'Palamino'. as they walked passed and inside the club, Theo investigates and follows the couple.

From behind the cover of a newspaper he's reading about a hundred yards down the street from the Club, Lucas covertly considers the people going in and out. About 20 minutes and a wide assortment of people pass as he does this. There were some men in suits, a drunkard, a few higher class ladies, two women who were clearly prosttutes -- none that he'd imagine were Desert Orchid. However a cigar-smoking man outside the club caught his eye, and a couple slightly younger in years and much younger in looks than himself passed by, talking softly to each other so he couldn't hear. The couple went into the club and the man followed soon after. Coincidence, or could he be shadowing them? No good taking chances here -- I'll have to be careful in there, Lucas reminds himself. Of course he'd noticed the revolver at the tough-looking man's hip.

Before going into the club, Lucas strolls down the street, takes time to grab an iguana-on-a-stick from a vendor and ambles up to the doors with his best gambler face on. As he walks in, he thinks: Desert Orchid. If that's a man's name there's something seriously [censored] up going on. That gives me one assumption to build on -- not much else.... I'll have to find her in here somehow... or him, god forbid. They're really not helping to make my job any easier, them guys over at HQ.

He licks the last juice of the iguana off his fingers and throws the stick in a nearby bin. Time to meet the rest of Dagger Team, I guess. Hoorah!

William&Evelyn

"Evie, somebody's tailing us."

Evelyn glanced back to see the man, he looked aged with longish hair. She shivered a bit, "William, do you think it's another NCR guy?"

William thought for a minute back to the lessons on how to trap a stalker back in his village. He reminisced about the times in the village with running water, clean food, almost Pre-War styled housing...but he quickly snapped back into reality. "Evie, follow my lead."

William turned quickly to a secluded room near the casino floor and sure enough, the man was "investigating." He whispered to Evelyn, "When I say 'go', draw your tranquilizer."

"Alright...go!"

Evelyn drew her tranquilizer darts and loaded them into an oddly shaped light blue pistol. William drew his Uzi and pointed them at the man, "NCR Deep Undercover, Pair Name: Summer & Winter. You have heard of us have you not?"

Name: Benjamin Allen Toomes

Code Name: "Tombs"

Age: 29

Nationality: Tribal, Illinois Territory

six: Male

Build: Athletic, slim

Height: 5' 11"

Weight: 196lbs

Hair Color: Bald

Eye Color: Hazel

Skin Tone: Bronzed, Tan

Notable Markings:

The man is about as scarred and wasteland-weathered as they come. In addition to his 'Battle Trophies', Tombs is rather heavily tattooed... a fact usually kept hidden beneath his heavily modified Combat Armor. These tattoos represent different 'honors'... awarded to him for his service to the people of the Greater Chicago Alliance. To bear witness to these 'honors'... is to be honored, yourself, as a trusted friend.

Alliance Side: Brotherhood of Steel

Skill Set:
_____________________
Small Guns
Stealth/Sneak
First Aid
Gambling
_____________________

Perks:

Sniper
Commando

_____________________

Traits:

Bloody Mess
Jinxed (Yes... jinxed... watch out)

_____________________


Weapons:

SIG-Sauer 14mm Pistol
DKS-501 Sniper Rifle (Silenced, Modular, and Re-chambered for 5.56 ammunition)
Combat Knife, 'Stallona III' variant by SharpWit Inc.

_____________________

Clothes:

Tombs is never seen in anything other than his suit of Brotherhood Combat Armor. Ever. Truth be told... most of his fellow Brothers and Sisters don't even know where he got it from. It's an old, out-dated model... one which hasn't been produced in some time. The usual blue-tinted brotherhood colors are present, if scuffed by the harsh desert sandstorms.

The visor itself has a single round 'crack'. If ever asked about it, Tombs usually only remarks that he"...Got careless. Once. It has not happened again since."

_____________________

Personality:

Tombs is a quiet man. Polite, courteous, and quiet. He prefers to remain out of the center of attention, and has earned something of a reputation as being 'distant' and 'creepy' among those of the Brotherhood. If one does manage to get through the wall of defenses, there is a great deal more to the man than meets the eye. He is curious, loyal, and deeply religious... but more than any of that... he is very far away from home.

_____________________

Personnel File:

[Uploading File... Please Wait...]

Name: Toomes, Benjamin Allen.
BoS ID: Knight Commander "Tombs"
Date of Birth: 01/22/2263
Place of Birth: Brahmin Wood County, Illinois

Family: Paladin Lord Matthias Toomes (father), Madura Toomes (mother),
Knight Ethan Toomes (brother), Scribe Bradley Toomes (brother), Paladin Elaina Toomes (wife)

Service History: [CLASSIFIED, MAXON-XSL1]

Commendations: [CLASSIFIED, MAXON-XSL1]

Current Assignment: 'Western Reconnaissance and the re-establishment of Communications with Maxon Bunker.'

Assignment Status: 'Pending...'

[Error... Data-Stream Corruption. Cannot Locate File X&%decoAa-111870PH.command at SYSDirectory Terminal-1.]
((Bad File Name. Unable to Locate SYSDirectory Terminal-1. Data Stream Disengaging.))

_______________________

"Tombs..."


These cities were all the same... it didn't matter where you went.


If the reek of decay didn't get you, then one of the junkies looking for a fix would. Since arriving in New Vegas earlier in the week, Tombs had witnessed more than one man getting a knife in the back over a Jet inhaler. That was the way things worked in cities... and it didn't matter one iota that Mr. House's roaming police-robots were always watching. All he had ever seen them do was watch. People lived, people died, and so long as nobody interfered with the casinos... nobody cared. It had been the same way back home, too.

Tombs shifted his attention from these thoughts, to his untouched glass of water.

Dirty brown flecks told him all he needed to know about the quality of the drinks being served here... and much like the rest of the miserable city, he found it wanting. The sad truth of the matter was, just because there was clean water to be had... didn't mean you were going to get it. A long line of people had first dibs on that cool, refreshing drink. After that, a lot of people called seconds. By the time the important folks got theirs, seldom was there much more to go around.

He stirred the dirty flecks of water with a grimace, then brought it up to his lips and slogged it down as quickly as he could manage. Surprisingly, it didn't taste half as bad as it looked.


Ah, but now voices were drawing his attention... and again his water sat forgotten upon the bar.


Moving slowly, Tombs came to rest his armored frame in a lazy sort of slump against the door-frame. With a belligerent crack of his knuckles, the tanned figure of Benjamin Tombs plowed clear through a passing Securitron in order to place himself in the direct line of fire between the pair of now-admitted NCR operatives and a man whom... well... he really couldn't at all account for.

There was a long silent moment as he stood there... until at last he eventually offered:

"This... is an inadvisable course of action. I trust the NCR does not wish to earn a reputation for gunning men down in the street."

It wasn't much. Then again, he was a man of few words. Those seemed poignant enough, without him expounding further. Mind you, by this point he'd also drawn that massive pistol of his and now, tapped it lightly against his shoulder in wait. When, after a few empty seconds, he felt that there was more to add... he drew back the hammer and let the 'click' accent his words.

"I would rather not shoot anyone today. I hope I am not alone in that sentiment..."

Theo looked at the two "Summer and Winter", he saw the two pointing a blue pistol and an Uzi at him. He replied;

"Frankly I don't much care... you're looking at a man with lifes experience Young'n... i doubt you heard of me, Thirty-nine year veteran of the NCR, i thought'd I'd find some rogue NCR agents here... pulling a weapon on a supioror officer... oh wait, you're lives don't much matter... Rogue agents!" he said as he pulled his revolver from the hip and cocked it, he looked at a third man who looked the same age as the two other younger couple.
"You... other man... back down..." Theo said again. Theo took one hand off the Revolver that's pointed at 'Winter' as the other reached into his satchell and grabbed a small fragment of a flash-bang grenade. pulling the clip and dropped it on the ground he shields his eyes and conceals himself in his coat, as the flash erupts into the room he runs off into one of the other rooms of the club and becomes 'One with the Crowd'.

Drying an escaped drop of Iguana fat from his chin, Lucas stops momentarily just inside the entrance to the club and looks around while deciding where to start looking for Desert Orchid. He hears people talking just down the hall, and decides to investigate. Moving slowly with his body close to the wall, he approaches the corner while overhearing their conversation. When he reaches the corner, he steals a quick second's peek around. There's the young couple and the man following them inside menacing each other with guns drawn, and there's a third man in power armor. Wow, trouble escalates quickly around here. I guess I shouldn't act all surprised - it is Vegas, after all, he muses as he draws his gun and starts screwing on the suppressor. The revolver man with his back against Lucas' words surprise him:

"...veteran of the NCR, i thought I'd find some rogue NCR agents here... pulling a weapon on a superior officer... oh wait, your lives don't much matter... Rogue agents! ... You... other man... back down..."

NCR agents. That must be the couple. And he's an NCR officer. Add a Brotherhood thug to that picture and we've got ourselves a fine mess. Hope Desert Orchid doesn't skip off because of the commotion they're about to stir up. If she's not one of them... I'd better - a loud bang and flash erupt from around the corner and Lucas presses his body against the wall. Holy [censored]!

He's not affected much by the flashbang because of his cover, and recovers quickly from the shock. Some scuttering and the sound of feet running on floorboards reach him. No gunshots, no fighting. That means the grenade thrower was only interested in getting away. Well, I've had enough of their noisy behavior as well. I'll have to approach them one by one later to find out if anyone of the them knows about Desert Orchid. He backs off the way he came, and goes into the main room of the club instead, while holstering his gun under his jacket. If any of them survive for more than five minutes, that is.

"Tombs..."




The sheer concussive force of the detonating flash-bang was quite surprising.


Add to that, the fact that the man to whose defense he had come had suddenly disappeared... and Tombs was left in an almost stunned state. He was sharp, for the son of a tribal woman. That being said... he was slowly becoming aware of the dangerous situations which he often placed himself within. This time, he was lucky. The flash-bang had done little more than burn out the Optical Assistance System Attenuator inside his helmet. He hadn't had a chance to deactivate the thing, upon leaving the club... too preoccupied was he with preventing a shootout in the street.

Begrudgingly, Tombs hoisted the helmet up off of his head and tucked it under his shoulder. Annoyance was clearly evident within his expression... as were the tribal inkings of his flesh.

"Well then... I guess that settles it. Either the NCR has gone mad, or this is yet another case of the one hand not knowing... what the other is doing. Doesn't matter to me. I'm not the one who has to answer to your authorities. Just bear in mind, some of us still remember Bitter Springs."

That particular moment of disgrace was one which he remembered quite vividly, having been there. He could still hear, in fact, the voice of the young girl he had been showing his canteen to. She had been quite mystified by it... especially when he opened it up to reveal cold, clean water. Normally capable of compartmentalizing the chaos and horrors of war, the sound of the girl's giggling voice being suddenly cut short by a crack of gunfire... he could feel himself being transported back to that village. He could see the terror in her face... hear the sounds of the young warriors rising up to their feet in shock. From somewhere nearby, there was a shriek... and then a loud 'crack'... and then nothing.

Tombs could feel the anger... the outrage... the hatred... aye, he could feel it welling up inside him. Just mentioning those two words had brought all that anger back. Snorting spitefully, the Knight Captain turned upon his heel and headed back toward the now-swinging door to the Cougar Club.

"... our interaction is concluded... and nobody has been shot. I will consider that a small victory."

OOC: sorry this is late i fell asleep while writing

IC: Sarah stood and looked at herself in the mirror, Wander how many there is. Her room in the Luxe casino was a soothing silvery white in color with a window that looked over on to the strip, she could see the cougar club from here, well the entrance anyway. looking out onto the strip she noticed an Asian couple making there way toward the cougar club, she was then distracted by a group of NCR soldiers who where making a lot of noise. If anyone is there now they'll be waiting a while, I'll be there when its dark and busy more chance to stay inconspicuous that way she thought to her self as she pulled the white t-shirt over her head, it was about 4:30pm anyway so they'd only be waiting four or so hours its dark by nine in Vegas and it gets busy at eight. Wrapping some old tape around her knuckles she approached a punch bag that swung slightly from the ceiling of her room, NCR paid for of course just like the entire apartment, but the bag was one of her specific requests for the room. Readying her self she started out slow, small punches slowly got bigger and bigger, she was thinking Sarah knew she shouldn't think when she did this. The bag began swing away from her after each hit more and more, a gunshot in her head, the bag swung further and further away and finally as it came back with a loud grunt she rondhoused the bag as it came back. Panting heavily the sweat began to drip from her forehead, her arms shook from the long session placing her hand on her forehead she whispered

"I'm sorry" to herself. Peeling the tape of her knuckles revealed them to be bare red with a few cuts on from the repeated punching. Slowly walking to the bed she lay back down on the soft white sheets and stared into the ceiling and fell asleep.



Sarah awoke to flashing lights through her window, it was go time. Standing up she grabbed the Sig Sauer P226 of the bedside table, switched the safety off and slid the barrel down the back of her jeans and then covered the grip with the t-shirt she was wearing. The leather jacket she payed to have custom made fit her perfectly. Quickly looking in the mirror again she brushed her hair out straight to sort the random bits that had occurred from sleeping. On the way out Sarah grabbed on last thing, her combat knife. Slipping the knife in to her boot and covering it she again whispered to her self

"Sometimes it helps to know you've got something to loose" The phrase she had etched on the side, it was dark now and patrons where filling the strip left Right and center. Sarah walked to wards the cougar club with purpose. From what she could gather there was some commotion going on inside, but that didn't stop people, they just kept walking in to enjoy the club and spend their hard earned caps.

"Move citizen" An effective force of Mr Houses security robots and NCR troopers powered toward the club, Sarah just kept walking. Stepping inside the commotion was plain, what looked like a standoff. What looked like a member of the brotherhood was leaving but promptly stopped by two NCR troopers as the standoff was broken up by the robots

"Everyone return to your drinks and have a good time, no need for anyone to get hurt tonight" One of the robots said with a old cowboy accent. Sarah wished that this wasn't the team members she had to lead, if they where at each others throats without actually realizing they where on the same team could be bad. Being the only brotherhood member in here Sarah guessed that he was one of the team its not often you see brotherhood on the strip despite the new alliance, so as she walked passed him she nodded, she didn't know weather he caught it or not. Either way this situation wasn't her problem, she was here for them to find her not the other way around, if they didn't find her she'd be carrying the mission out alone.

Sarah sat on a stool at the far end of the bar, briefly looking at the Jazz band she thought to herself pretty good music

"Whatt'l it be sweetness?" The barman stood doing his typical cleaning glasses with a cloth routine

Sarah smiled and said "Nuka Cola please honey, i can't drink tonight" her thick Australian accent surprised the barman, two hundred years after the war and it was still possible to find one, Her parents had the accent and their parents had it, amazingly it had carried though two hundred years. The barman handed over the drink and Sarah thanked him with a good ten caps, taking a large gulp the fizz hit the back of her throat

"Thats the stuff now, lets See if they can find me, I'll give em' two hours"

The commotion had apparently not gone unnoticed. As Lucas sat down by the bar, the rumor traveled across the room and soon he learned that a squad of guards and police robots had turned up and arrested the people involved. Good riddance, was Lucas' view on it. Gives me more elbowroom to find the operation leader. Let's have a look around... General said nothing about what time of day she'd be here, so let's just hope I'm lucky for once. He buys a light beer at the bar and finds a seat with good overview of the locale in the far corner from the entrance. There he sits and examines the people around him, without letting it show, and the people coming in.

Mostly gamblers, some well-to-do, others not so much; some drinkers, a few well into their drinking, others just begun. There's prosttutes hanging about, showing off their wares, and shady looking characters that can be nothing but junkies or criminals. No sign of an undercover operative. Damn, maybe she's that good.

After some minutes of waiting, Lucas sees an attractive young blond woman enter the room. She sits down at the bar and has a Nuka Cola. Hey, this is more promising. Not a gambler, not a drinker, and doesn't seem to be a prosttute -- not at first glance anyway. The last of his beer goes down his slightly less parched throat, and he goes over to the bar. "Hey, bartender. Hand me another one of these, would you? Bottled, of course." He turns to the young woman next to him and tells her: "I'm not taking my chances with the glasses here - not when the cloth he's cleaning the glasses with obviously hasn't been washed for weeks - if at all." and gives her a wink.

Lucas takes a good swig from the beer bottle he's handed, and smiles to the young woman. "Did you see the people fighting outside earlier? When I came here the first time - must've been about ten years ago -- New Vegas had fights like that all the time. Good to see nothing's changed." He takes another draft from his bottle and waits for a response.

As she sat waiting, Sarah observed the commotion, they where lucky they weren't getting arrested. Sarah took the time to chill out, take in the music and have a relaxed drink, a little kickback time no matter how short was great. A man approached the bar near her, instinctively she lent down to her right boot and pretended to scratch her leg just in case she needed the knife but he was just ordering a drink. Sarah continued to stay alert, the man made a passing comment to her about the glasses probably never been cleaned, or something along those lines, he then winked at her. Great he's trying to flit with me, just what i need No one had flirted with her in a while, but she then thought she was overreacting to the wink, after all it could of meant anything.

"Look... sir i don't mean to be rude but I'm waiting for some people, I'm sure there is plenty of other women in here you can talk to" her Australian accent made her feel quite different to everyone else in the room, but she kind of liked it. Unless the man had anything else to say she was done talking to him after all she was here to collect the team not make small talk.

Ah, a feisty one, Lucas thinks. Won't be chatting with her for long if I don't drop the cue immediately.

"Plenty of other women, yeah, but not many Aussies. I haven't heard anyone talk like that for two decades!" Lucas says as he thinks of a way to drop the code into his words to see if she's the one he's looking for. "Well, I don't mean to bother you -- I was just here looking for my horse, anyway. You haven't seen it, have you?" - he sends a short prayer to any gods that might be listening - "The horse is a Palomino."

(( OOC: Seeing as my ability to spatially orient myself is... well... approximately nil... it has been brought to my attention that this whole ordeal was taking place INSIDE the building. Therefore, all my interactions are hereby adjusted accordingly. For the sake of ease, just assume that -I- had assumed we were inside all along, and we'll get on with this whole thing sparing me any further humiliation for the discrepancy. Until next time, anyways. Thank you. With that out of the way, I shall begin writing my post, forthwith. Or is that forthright. I think it's Forthwith. Forthright is when you're out in the open about everything... forthwith is 'immediately'... yes? Err... Right! I shall begin writing my post forthwith and forthrigh. Cheers. ))


______________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Tombs..."



"Would you like to file a report?" the securitron had asked, in that falsely-chipper good cop voice of his. It wasn't really a question at all, of course. It expected that he was going to comply.

Normally, he might have been more pleased about doing so. The rareness of the damnable machines actually doing their jobs was... well... things had gone south, in that regard, for some considerable time now. He thought back, for a moment, to his stay at The Tops. The owner of that place, a greasy little man named Benny, had always been going on about the uselessness of Mr. House and his supposed police force. He had never liked the fellow much... and had since heard rumors of his demise... but they had agreed on that particular point. And it had got them talking.

Well, Benny had talked a lot, anyways. Tombs had simply listened, and nodded.

Now, as he moved around the securitron swiftly to make for the bar once more, he found himself cursing out the mechanical officers yet again. This time, however, it was because of the metallic pincher-arm gripped around his wrist.

"Citizen... you're going to need to give us a statement." The machine's electronic face, that of a somewhat cartoonish police officer with a big, scowly frown, now turned to face him fully.

"If you do not give a statement, you will be placed under arrest." Well, didn't that just take the cake... or... buy the britches... or whatever it was that people used to say about purchasing/taking things which, while seemingly normal, are somehow supposed to convey badness. He couldn't rightly remember. Finding himself suddenly pondering such an old 'cliche' term actually helped to reduce the burning desire to bash the thing's face in.

His voice, now deadly-calm, rang out for what might well be the last time tonight. Either he was going to jail... going to be vaporized in a hail of laser fire... or be in such a foul mood at having to resort to such tactics as this, as to be even less communicative than usual. Assuming such a thing were possible.

"Officer, remove your clammy steel hand from me... or you will not be getting it back. In fact, if it has not been removed from my person by the time I count to three... you'll be lucky if they decide to bother repairing you at all. I fought at Cheyenne Mountain, against machines a helluva lot more intimidating than you... designed for the sole purpose of eradicating all organic life. If you really think you're up to that challenge, though... by all means... wait until three. Oh look... three..."

The machine never saw it coming. He inclined the entirety of his body forward, launched the thing over his shoulder using its own arm for leverage, and turned around to face it where it lay on the ground. With one heavily-armored boot, and a 14mm pistol leveled directly with its video-screen face, the Brotherhood veteran knelt forward to finish his previous statement.

"Now, let's all just relax and go back to our drinks. You can tell Mister House that the Brotherhood of Steel takes responsibility for the disruption here tonight. But if you... or any other of his Tin Men... ever touches me again... I will personally dismantle the fleet of you. And then I'll be paying him a visit. Now get up, and do your damn job."


It was probably the most he'd spoken all week.

Truth be told, it very well could have been the most he'd spoken all month. He didn't really keep track of how much he spoke or not. It wasn't like he deliberately remained quiet. He simply knew that the best method of doing his job... that is to say any job he was currently doing... usually involved fewer words than his Brothers and Sisters liked to apply. His philosophy was, if it doesn't need saying, it doesn't get said.

As often is the case, however, most people tend to find that if he talked more... and the more talkative people shut up once in a while... the ideal balance would probably be met.

As the securitron wheeled its way out of the club, actually looking a bit shaken by the encounter, Tombs moved back towards the bar. The woman sitting upon the other side of him was the same one he had seen come in just moments before the whole ordeal.

That tattooed face of his studied her intensely for a moment, and then turned to face the man who at first glance had seemed to be harassing her.

'Palomino?'

That had been the code... the one he had picked up off the dead Ranger. He had hoped to find a pack of cigarettes, as nearly all of these NCR types had carried them... but the cryptic message and a nearly-empty wallet had been all he found. Well, that and a 'Welcome to Gomorrah' guest card.

Suddenly, it made sense. He'd found himself in the middle of some NCR attempt at subterfuge. Well, then... he was just going to have to break the news as nonchalantly as possible. The man, whom had spoken the phrase, was the one to whom his words were directed. After all, he had no way of knowing whether the woman was actually involved or not.

"You there, sir... one of the men supposed to be meeting you here... is not going to make it." Well, that certainly sounded ominous.

"He's dead... gunned down outside Primm a week back. I came across him on my way into town. Perhaps someone should have told him to burn this message. There's no telling who killed him... but if they could read... they could know you're here right now. That seems... inconvenient."

OOC: Sory about the confusion i assumed it was all happening inside as well, right we'll just carry on assuming this is happening inside the club.

(( OOC: And on that note... I have posted. Or rather, edited my post so as to reduce clutter. But then I realized that it wouldn't actually update and say that I had POSTED at all. So now. I have. Wonderful. ))

(And how did the lady respond?)
(Edited out some of Tombs' lines that I'd included here for reference but forgot to remove)

Lucas watches with interest the armored troublemaker as he knocks the security robot to the ground and promptly tells it to crawl back to its boss, and notes to himself: Someone's not having the best of days. I hope I never find myself on the wrong end of that 14mm if he ever has a bad one. As the robot scuttles out, the man comes over to Sarah and Lucas and addresses Lucas with:
"You there, sir... one of the men supposed to be meeting you here... is not going to make it. He's dead... gunned down outside Primm a week back. I came across him on my way into town. Perhaps someone should have told him to burn this message. There's no telling who killed him... but if they could read... they could know you're here right now. That seems... inconvenient."

Damn amateurs, Lucas thinks to himself. Not only do they go and get themselves killed - they compromise the rest of the mission just because they're too [censored] stupid to memorize a simple message. Talking of compromised, I think it's time for me to go. Rising up, he tells the man: "Sir, I'm meeting no men here, and have absolutely no business with any corpses you stumble upon out in the Wastes. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll go look for my horse."

He found comfort in the fact that the man facing him was only a safety catch and a trigger squeeze away from a fat piece of steel through his forehead. The gun could be in his hand in virtually no time whatsoever, and he'd already mapped out five alternative routes of exit in case [censored] should hit the fan. "Thanks for the little show there. Good evening to you both"

"Tombs..."



He might have been smug about it...

His instincts were precisely that... but he'd grown up in a village where such behavior was frowned upon. Pride and smugness got you killed. Instead, he quietly returned his helmet to his head and rose up to his feet. The NCR would have to handle their own problems, then. It was obvious that he had passed on the message to the right individual. What the man did with that information was out of his hands.

What was his problem, however, were the three securitrons which rolled their way into the club several moments later. He identified the central one as being the particularly scowly machine he had, minutes ago, flung over his shoulder like a sack of wheat. It now appeared to be even scowly-er... if such a thing were possible. It's mechanical arm gestured in his direction, drawing the attention of all three upon him.

"Citizen. You are under arrest. Do not resist, or force will be used."

Glorious...

Tombs rose up to his feet, stared down that machine with the grim resolution of a Pre-War gunfighter, and brought his hand to rest not upon his firearm... but the EMP grenade beside it.

"Tin Man... I thought I made myself clear. I do not answer to Mister House. I answer only to the Brotherhood... on whose authority I am here. If you attempt to arrest me, I will be forced to use the full range of my abilities to prevent you from doing so. I promise that such will be highly unpleasant... and cause far more commotion than has already occurred tonight. Perhaps such is enough to make you reconsider?"

The charging focus-crystals and slowly-whirring barrels of the robot's Gatling laser told him otherwise.

Well there was one, but he was walking away Sarah jumped of the stool ingoing what the other man had said

"Palomino? Here take this" Sarah Handed the man a card which advertised a local shop called the odd one which sold all sots of scrap and random things people would find useful, she then said in hushed tones

"Desert Orchid, head there i will meet you later"

Sarah left the man and turned to the Brotherhood member who was now facing down thee secutrons. After a few minced words one started whirling a Gatling laser of which Sarah jumped in the way and got the attention of the lead robot

"This is an NCR rendezvous undercover op, you are compromising it leave now passcode is Palomino" She whispered to the robot so quietly no one could of heard her. The angry policeman face turned to a somewhat happy but rugged face

"Have a nice day ma'am" The three robots wheeled away, Sighing she sat back on her stool and drank some more Nuka Cola

"Whats with you? you trying to create trouble" Leaving it at that with the Brotherhood member she waited.

"Tombs..."



Well... that hadn't been precisely the way that he had predicted things would go.


Tombs watched the robots as they turned and rolled out the door... then slowly removed his helmet from his head once more to give the woman another appraising glance. Annoyed though he was, he had to give her credit. There was a good chance someone would have gotten hurt. While he wasn't overly concerned with his own well-being, collateral damage was never acceptable. Not to him, and not to his people.

The woman's words caused him to grimace. Trying to cause trouble? Him?

Returning to his seat beside her, the Knight Commander lifted his glass to his lips... then thought better of it. This was some sort of an NCR operation. Real secret-like. He'd stumbled onto it, and openly let them know as such. He'd heard about the war with the Brotherhood... and about how the NCR did business these days. Very little of Shady Sands was still evident in the place... especially this far out. The truth of the matter was, he'd left the glass unattended. There was no telling what might have been done to it, during that time.

Pushing it across the bar, he politely requested another... then settled back onto his stool and placed his helmet on the counter.

"I do not like robots. Especially ones controlled by madmen. I feel equally warmly about the New California Republic... but at least you lot have the courtesy to DIE when shot in the head. Robots... not so much so."

(Damn Firefox -- crashed so I have to write all over again....)

Scottsdale scores on first attempt, Lucas congratulates himself as he leaves the club, feeling the stiff business card in his pocket. And no casualties as of yet... Close call with that so-called 'Knight' around, though. Might as well have put up a big sign in the middle of town advertising our presence. Glad I'm not seeing him again. But he knew he wasn't safe yet. If the Knight told the truth, there might be all kinds of bastards waiting to ambush him from every angle if they knew he was part of a not-so-secret-anymore NCR operation, and that woman might not even be Desert Orchid for all he knew. My gut's screaming like mad that something bad's about to go down.... I'd better have a Plan B ready -- no way I'm putting all my eggs in her basket just yet.

With that line of thought, he seeks out a small junk store where he can do some shopping undisturbed - he'd been there before and had a positive experience as a costumer; they could supply much of what an aspiring pyromaniac would need. Before he goes in, he takes a detour through two bars, one strip joint, three rooftops and a playground to shake of potential stalkers. Along the way he manages to liberate the owners of said locales from one pack of cigarettes, an empty tin can and a whiskey bottle, two packs of matches and some aluminum foil. In the store it took him a few minutes of browsing before he found what he was looking for: a bag of sugar and a can of stump remover, which he was very pleased to find, considering how little gardening is done nowadays.

Tipping the proprietor generously with the pack of cigarettes, Lucas is allowed to light up a fire in the backyard and heat up the sugar and stump remover in the tin can. Soon he's got two very nice-looking bricks of caramelized sugar and potassium cooling in molds made out of aluminum foil. While they're solidifying, he sticks in a few matches with the heads outwards and goes looking for a rag. There's a suitable cloth tied around a pipe in the backyard, and he dips this in the whiskey and stops it into the neck of the bottle.

With his newly made smoke bombs and molotov cocktail, he makes his way back onto the streets and heads towards The Odd One, thinking he can feel somewhat safer now ... if the ambushers don't shoot me on sight, of course... Get a grip on yourself, soldier -- the General gave you a mission - and it's a mission you're gonna accomplish, no matter the consequences! Hell, I'll walk straight into that lion's den if that's what it takes.

OOC: Fail. I was at school the whole time. This is taking place while everything else is.

William&Evelyn

William was surprised by the sudden burst from the flashbang but the NCR issued sunglasses stopped most of the light but none of the sound. He managed to cuff his hands over Evelyn's ears and she was completely shielded by her sunglasses both eyes and ears. William lost his hearing temporarily and stumbled about, trying to regain his hearing. "Damn it...I'm losing my edge..."

Evelyn shook him for a while and he eventually got his hearing back, "Thanks Evie..." William said, giving a small smile. Evelyn punched him in the gut playfully, "I can take care of myself you know."

"Yeah sure...Says the girl who got ambushed three times back in WD."

She pouted and the couple started towards whoever the Desert Orchid might be. William pointed at a woman drinking some Nuka-Cola at a bar. Evelyn nodded and she tapped the woman, "Excuse me...but uh..."

William came in, sweeped the area for any robots in sight, "Horse is a Palomino. Agent Winter," Evelyn chimed in, "Summer..."

"Tombs..."



A wry grin spread across the only part of Tombs' face visible beneath his untamed hair. At first it was but a smug smirk. Then it spread into an outright grin. Eventually, the Brotherhood veteran had broken down into near-hysterics... something he had only ever truthfully done on one occasion. There was a certain sort of satisfaction about this whole thing. The kind that managed to weasel its way through his outer defenses, despite the effort he had put into restraining himself.

This was... bad. Seriously bad. He almost felt a pang of sympathy for these NCR types.

At least when the Brotherhood had sent him right into the mouth of hell... they had had the nerve to warn them all that it was a suicide mission. He had survived quite a few suicide missions, Tombs... even after the entirety of his squad had been killed. As he glanced over his shoulder now, water in-hand and nearly to his lips, he couldn't help but grimace at the fate he saw befalling them.

The words came before he could stop himself.

"For a secret operation, you folks sure can't keep a secret worth a damn. If this is the full extend of your ability to be subversive... it is no wonder your friend from Primm got himself a bullet lobotomy. Perhaps you should learn from his example, rather than following it."

And then he was back to his water, sipping idly.

He had nothing further to say, really. That last comment pretty much summed it up.