(What are you gonna do to my people? Just wondering cause I dont want you enslaving them or slaughtering them without my consent first.)

Character Sheet
Name: Drakelius Vai
Age: 21
Race: Human
Description: Drakelius Is Happy Most Of The Time, And Also Enjoys Crushing Enemies.
Equipment: Brotherhood Of Steel Power Armour, Laser Rifle And Assault Rifle, Frag Grenades And A Laser Pistol
Bio: Warning! - Corrupt Files! Please Contact An Administrator

Faction Sheet
Faction Name: Black Ops Elites
Troop Numbers: 27
Troop Equipment: Laser Rifle's, Assault Rifles, Fat Man, Missile Launcher, Laser Pistol, Sniper Rifle, Combat Armour, Combat Helmet, Civillian Clothing.
Civilian numbers:
Home Base: Black Ops Make-Shift City
Economy: Mercenary Like Forces, Offering Their Service For Caps. Food, Water, And Commerce
Faction Bio: Drakelius Was a well known man, And many people like him, Thus making him a good leader for the Black Op Elites.

OOC: pffft [censored] that dude, im just jokin around chief. Obama's president, it's official everything is on the table to joke about now. No reservations, I'll rip on muslims, retards, vegetarians. The only people I hold hate twords is scientologists. hurts to hear you say that to be honest.

Ahh I just saw how it could have seemed like that "this showed he didnt have to take [censored] from people outside his company." (now edited)
I meant getting reinforcements proved he brought allot to the table, and he was'nt Ermine's (someone not in Echo company) B****
cuz im creating a small powerstruggle between two characters, to enhance the story a bit.

OOC: I'm just starting up another story line, it'll run concurrently with the Enclave one.

Evergreen Mills, Major Raider Centre

The Evergreen Mills Bazaar was always busy. Raiders from all over the Capital Wasteland came here one time or another. At least a couple of dozen were in varying degrees of intoxication by the bar another dozen chilling out in front of the pole dancers and a handful playing a game of pool on one of the games tables.

Bishop was not here to reminisce, pass time or take advantage of the distractions, he was here for business. Bishop didn't look like a man to mess with, he wore a metal plate clad combat armour over his impressive physique. He was strong enough to best most men present in an arm wrestle but agile enough to quickly dodge an incoming blow. Bishop wore a .44 on his hip and a pump action shotgun on his back.

"I'm expected." He stated to the barkeep, who motioned him to one of the private rooms. Bishop entered nodding to the two men present and took a seat.
"We're all here now so lets begin." A older senior raider begun?

The caravan travelled across the wastelands, walking in the hot sun all day, the force throwing up dust from the earth as they walked,
And they would get in a circle, and some troops, and sometimes some civilians, would stay awake through the night to watch for trouble.
They had passed by a super mutant, which had scattered at the sight of the group.

Vasili was sitting in a cart, on the radio, twisting dials back and forth, going through channels and frequencies, " Is anyone there? I repeat, is anyone out there?"
He recorded this, and put it on a loop, telling Timmy to tell him if anyone responded.

With his troops already Mobilized, Drakelius Orders them into squads of 4 Men in each, Drakelius leads a squad of 4 soldiers, making his squad one with 5 members, He and his squad move out of the city, and walk about a mile north, They encounter a Heavy super mutant ambush..

Just as he was walking out he heard a thick eastern european accent boom over his radio. He couldnt resist "Comrad! this is Echo Charlie, transmitting from North Bleek Rock. The motherland is still holding out, but.... the potatoes... they are lost, BUT WILL BE AVENGED!.....over."

Down a member already, Drakelius' Squad opened fire on the Mutant's... Grabbing the Radio, Drakelius Shouts Into it... "THIS IS DRAKELIUS VAI OF THE BLACK OPS ELITES, WE NEED ASSISTANCE AT GRID 25.4569 IN THE RUINS OF DC! UNDER HEAVY SUPER MUTIE ASSAULT!" Also ordering his men into Cover in a near by building, They fired down and at the Mutants, Not knowing if they were killing the Mutants, They Continued to fire at them.

"There are millions of men like me, sir. I'll be staying with you until....well.....you know. You'll receive a proper burial in Bleak Rock. But what about Christine? Does she have family she can live with?" Ermine showed a look of kindness, rarely something he has done. He was lost in memories of childhood, his 'parents' his brothers, his friends, his losses. It all shot back into him, Ermine had a heart, he could love, show kindness, care for someone. "I can't leave her with someone she doesnt trust, she needs family, or even a friend, but not any stranger...someone she'll trust"

"This is Carl God dimnit! whatchya been needin.......? I'm a waitin boy! hrry up! damnright shmucks!"

It is human nature to hate, to kill, to destroy. It is also human nature to love and care...


i feel like i have to rely on p bro's posts right now..... make a secondary for this rp dude, just so the story can be moved along

Wale and his men were striding through the wastelands at a fast pace, as they needed to get to this Bleek Rock place before they came under attack. They were all listening to the chaos going on through the radios, and they felt very lucky non of that was happening to them.

"How much longer till we get there? I'm tired as a mother[censored]" exclaimed Wale.

"Uhm, about one hour sir." replied Andre.

1 HOUR LATER...

"Alright we've arrived" said Andre.

"Good, first we need to radio them to make sure they know it's us, and don't shoot us on sight. Andre radio in to them."

"Alright," Andre said with a sarcastic tone. "This is Andre of POSS, radioing Dox or Darky, over. Requesting entrance into Bleek Rock."

"This's Carl!we have received your distress and are coming to your giv'n area! we have two men includin me but we can tear through em with this 'er fitty cal!"

By the time Carl had arrived there were already quite a few men killed and only two mutants dead. "YEEEHAW light em up little guy!" another winder hoped onto the .50 cal. He sprayed most of the mutants down leaving only two left. "Yea boy! damn right!" Carl tossed a greanade at theremaining mutants, finishing them off...

Vasili just blinks and and pauses for a moment.
"Could you speak normal please? "

"I am gid dimnit! jet be [censored] my brains into a mush! we roastin some muties! just wait at bleak rock for Ermine Damn right! he with some little girl, said he stayin a while. Attack those Enclave bastards! fry em up YEEEHAW SHOOT EM UP!"

Capital Wasteland, Peoples Rising caravan.

The group was coming almost at the top of the hill, the sun beginning to glare into their eyes. Timmy ran up over the hill, and soon came back yelling, " There's a survivor over here!"
Vasilli called to a man beside him to run up, as he was busy on the radio. " Otieno, go help Falcar with the survivor, bring him back here. "
While Vasili waited for a responce through the radio, Otieno and Falcar ran to the survivor with Timmy close behind.
His clothes were torn and ragged, he seemed to be unconcious, dehydrated looking, a sledgehammer accross his back.
" Help me get him up and back there onto a wagon. " Falcar called to Otieno.
Sprinting the last distance between him and the dehydrated man, Otieno grabbed his feet while Falcar held him by the shoulders.
Timmy ran up, questioning the two, " Is he dead? Who is he? " Repeating this several times, Otieno shooed him away as they neared a wagon and loaded him onto it.
Falcar jumped into the wagon, grabbing a bottle of water and pouring it into the mans mouth, one after another, after about 3, he woke up.

Dazed and confused, the man sat up, but Falcar pushed him back down. " You're still week, here, drink some more water and we will talk later. "
" Bu .... but who are you? where am i? ....."
The man trailed off into similar questions until he was finally silent and fell asleep, Falcar began to walk back to the head of the caravan, pointing to Timmy, " Stay with this man, tell me or Vasili when he wakes up.

Otieno walked back to Vasili, telling him what had transpired, to which the leader nodded his head and waited for a response on the radio.

Hot, dry, and bare, we had better get to Bleak Rock soon ..

( I was talking to Echo Company. )

Dox was lieing on his got tossing a ball up in the air than catching it, over and over, that was till he heard a farmilliar vioce. He walked over and picked up the mic "Nah man my call sign is "Lush" as in alchohaulic, YOURS was darky. Yeah man come on in, I'll let the gaurds know whats up, over." With that he headed over to the gate to greet him. It had been awhile since he had seen Whale, as he recalled it was about 5 months ago they last where ambushed by mutants around what once was Bethesda Virginia, right around Arlington. (Yeah that's a true place AND where the company is located)

The shrill whine of the wheels of Petrelli's Sentry Chair carried for quite awhile in the mostly flat, barren Wasteland. He, his men, and Buzzard had been walking for hours since the mole rat incident, encountering no other items of interest along the way.

"I'm getting hungry." Laurence complained.

"Yeah, and tired." Chimed in Darryl.

"Quit complaining, you sissies." Marco hissed, silencing them. "You're young and full of pep and vitality, whereas I'm 48, and I'm not tired and whiny like you."

"Well, you are in a rolling cha-" Buzzard began to observe before getting a meaty elbow in the side. "Oough!" He guffawed, stepping back as he doubled over.

"Don't backsass me." Petrelli spit. "Now, what do I see up there?" He made his meaty hand into a visor over his eyes to lengthen his field of view and block out the sun. "Is that a trade caravan?"

"Ooh! You know what we should do? We should rob it!" Chester suggested helpfully.

"...Quite. Let's go, boys!" Marco pulled his sawed-off out from its chair-holster and began his trek towards the caravan

( If you are talking about me, it's not a trade caravan, im travelling from my original settlement to Bleak Rock, if you look at my posts and Char sheet, you'll be having LOADS of fun. You = 11 people, me, 43 troops, one newly acquired troop, and 70 civilians, some with rifles, all with at least a pocket knife, and 7 of them are trained as the town militia. And i've made radio contact with both The Winders and Echo Company, no idea if they would come to help or not ... )

( To Dynate: This is Vasili, not the other guy, )

Vasili spoke into the mic, " Comrade .. you have not replied, are you still there? "

(Well, I know it's not a trade caravan. You know it's not a trade caravan.

The just slightly insane Petrelli and his less-than-Ivy League thugs? They don't quite know it's not a trade caravan.)

"Petr-"

"What."

"..Thordaddy, are you sure that's a trade caravan?" Buzzard asked, struggling to keep pace thanks to the new elbow-indention in his stomach.

"Of course it is. What other kind of caravans can there be?" Marco's body jiggled liked a cupful of Jell-O as the Sentry Chair rumbled over a patch of rocks.

"Well I mean it seems awfully big to just be some merchant in there, doesn't it?"

"Idiot, that just means there's more loot to steal!"

"Yeah!" The mafiosos behind Petrelli hooted at the thought of illegal activities.

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Shut up, Buzzard, unless you want to end up like the traders we're about to smear." Petrelli cackled, his chins and jowels flapping in the wind. The gang kept on course to the caravan.

WHERS P BRO?! what the hell can i do???? get yo ass in here and answer my question god damnit!

Timmy stood up on the wagon, seeing figures off in the distance moving towards them, warning people nearby, some went running to tell the rest.
Soon you could hear a symphony of clicks and other noises as everyone brandished weapons.

Vasili looked out to the figures,

Who could they be? Raiders? no band that size would attack us .. hopefully they are friendly, we will be ready, regardless.

Vasili jumped down from the wagon with the radio and ran to assemble a more agressive formation in case they did attack.
Everyone seemed to slow down and stare at the figures while preparing for the worst.

Buzzard was getting a very bad feeling in the pit of his gut, the feeling that Petrelli was walking everyone into a fiasco. He, of course, didn't care if the Thordaddy and his mindless goons ate a bullet, it'd actually be rather refreshing, but he doubted that if there was a gunfight, anyone on the other side would stop long enough to hear him scream that he's not with the mafiosos before getting one through the brain.

He had to think of something, fast.

"Thordaddy." He said finally, trying to stop the shaking in his voice.

"What is it, Buzzard? God, you're like a f--king mosquito in my ear."

"I have an idea. Why don't...Why don't you guys stay behind, and I'll go on ahead to the caravan?"

"And why would we do that?" Petrelli glanced behind his shoulder to look at the mechanic.

"Well, uh, I mean...Think about it. We go in there, kill the shmuck inside, and that's it, right? All we get is the loot we have on him."

Marco stopped the Sentry Chair, slowly turning it around to face Buzzard.

"Go on." He bayed.

"But, uh, but...If we kept him alive...We could, we could get his trade route, and any other merchants he is associated with, so we always have a mark in case we need supplies."

"Hmmm...Yes....Yes...Once Petrelli's Parish has extended over the Wastes, we will need a constant source of produce and caps." Petrelli stroked his fourth chin thoughtfully. "So that's it! We'll threaten the guy inside into giving up his trade root!"

"Yeah!" The thugs shouted happily.

"No!" Buzzard screamed in protest.

"No?" The Thordaddy cocked his brow.

"I mean, uh...Well, you guys are, you know, really intimidating, right? If you all showed up at once, the guy inside will panic, and then he might, you know, fire on you or...Or something. Let me go in, on my own, and I'll sweet talk him outside, see? Where you guys will be waiting, him defenseless and off guard...."

Petrelli smirked.

"Buzzard, I thought you were dead weight, but you finally proved your worth. Okay, we'll wait down here while you lure the mark outside."

Buzzard ran towards the caravan. Maybe he'd finally escape from this Hell today.

The air was tense as they all waited for what would happen next.

Timmy tugged at his shirt and gulped, Vasili stared stonefaced at the far off figures, Falcar half-aimed his Chinese Assault Rifle in the figures direction, Otieno threw on his overcoat and brimmed hat and searched for his Sniper Rifle.

The entire group was either still, or rushing to prepare for combat.

As Buzzard came upon the caravan, he waved his arms almost psychotically, speaking as loud as he could while still remaining out of earshot of Marco and the rest.

"Help!" He jumped up and down frantically. "Help me! Help me please!!"

Otieno turned, Sniper Rifle in hand and began to look over the far off figures.

Falcar broke off from the group with 7 men and made a circle around the man and Falcar, as Falcar fell in beside him.

( i may have to go eat VERY soon, but i will be back afterwards. )

"You've got to help me!" Buzzard said to Falcar as he drew near. "I'm being held hostage by this completely insane man! And I don't mean 'insane' like 'Oh man, he kills people without remorse' insane, I mean he's genuinely psychopathic. He, he, he thinks he's a mob boss, you've got to help me!"

Petrelli and his men watched Buzzard, who was only a speck on the horizon to them now.

"Oh man, boss, I think I see a bunch of people coming out of that thing and circling him."

"You think he was right about it not being a trade caravan?"

"Hmph." Petrelli snorted. "Well, if he was, let 'em kill him, and we'll get the Hell out of here."