OOC: Sure..

Damien Marx

“Cain Johnson is the name. Why don't you seat yourself down, were all eating breakfast.”
I hesitated to sit down as every time I "sat down to have breakfast", it usually ended with a massive firefight and the restaurant exploding in a spectacular fashion. It was like that before the Great War and after, no reason why it would change.

But I still pressed on and pulled up a chair, eating some unknowable substance they called food in the outside, it looked like meat so I still ate. Need to keep my protein up. I avoided staring at the ghoul which was hard on its own considering my entire time in the savage wasteland, I've only encountered one ghoul I didn't kill. But maybe diplomacy was the best bet.
"The Warren you say? Have you met a young woman by the name of Evelyn Manchester?" I said, hoping to get answers without torture or having to "coerce" the information out of the ghoul. Especially considering they may be better fighters than I.

Uhh...never mind...hehe, a bit over eager I guess.

Don't want to advance to the next morning in The Warren when people are just getting introduced around the Notoh campfire thing.

MIRVIN


"sorry buddy, my life was taken from me, but I'll get it back Ellis will get his comupennce. You can't trade for a life friend, you just live and that is your life. So what else does a talking robot like yourself be after out here?" One of the young women around the fire, the healthier looking one, asked.

"Mr Frank ordered me to go into the waste and find a life for myself. Be part of a comunity he said." Mirvin rasped "He sent me away. If I am unable to trade for a life then how would I obtain a life? I found this order to be most confusing, but before I could enquire further he ordered me to leave. If your' life was taken from you perhaps we could assist one another I will help you to locate your' life if you help me to locate mine. Do you find this proposal acceptable?" Mirvin removed the bottles of water and cans of food from the bag and placed them on the ground. "It appears that if I can not trade for a life that these items are of no use to me."

Mirvin turned to scan the man in the wheelchair, "You don't appear to be very well, my good chum. Has someone perhaps taken your life too?"

--Katherine Adler
Notah Camp

"Hey." A sort of nod in recognition was given to the newcomer, but she didn't bother giving out her name, and she returned to a similar behavior she had previously. Which consisted of a lighter look of curiosity and perhaps faint friendliness, masking to the best of the young Hispanic woman's abilities any signs of mistrust, caution, fear, weakness, anger, and the like. Her posture in her seat was slightly slouched over, elbows-covered by her worn jacket and loose sweater-resting heavily on the jean material above her knees. On a rare event, her body would prominently shake for a few moments before she gained control of herself. The fire far enough away to possibly prevent betraying the reality of how filthy, tired, and starved she truly was.

The mutant's voice suddenly piped up, "Cain Johnson is the name..." and a look of shock overtook Kathy's face, as the name ran through her mind as powerfully as a direct shotgun blast-though perhaps it wasn't noticed since her eyes weren't looking directly at anything but the side of the hardened woman at that particular moment. Something...something was distinctly familiar about that name-Adler couldn't just be crazy on that one. Nagging curiosity won over the majority of her much more common feelings and, almost compulsively, the dark brunette fixed her eyes on the ground while racking her brain for more information.

Katherine's train of thought was broken, the traveler snapping out of a kind of mild daze, as the ghoul-of all people-answered her. With her mind pondering on several things, once again, her eyes darted toward the structure, again, in which she could barely define as he, and then the female wastelander, explained. A grimace abruptly formed at the detailing of the place, creasing deeply into her otherwise mostly unwrinkled face. Great, that's just f*cking great. Yet another place with no promise for her survival-unless she was willing to shoot up and sneak through half a town in hopes they might actually own some preserved food. And that wasn't a fun idea, to say the least. Amongst the bitter frustration, there was a flash of true despondency, but it quickly vanished.

When the man actually informed her that they had once met, all suspicions were no longer the possibility of insanity and desperate loneliness-those suspicions were confirmed. Or, it seemed very likely, and for attempts for true certainty she forced her exhausted eyes to look at the ghoul's face with true observation. Even with all the rotting slime beginning to fall from his face, she slowly began to connect it until a look of sudden recognition came about her face. Her genuine emotions which had been seen before, especially that of mistrust and disgust, became broken. First by shock, and then compounded with that by some less distinguishable reaction. It was only doubled when Zoey confirmed Katherine's other suspicions.

Kathy's back straightened slightly, as the girl was clearly taken aback, and her voice cracked at first, "Y-You're...you're really him? From that night at the fire, with all those damn f-" Oh....right.

Glancing downward in a mix of sudden shame and awkwardness, her hand-covered by the long and tattered sleeve of her sweater-brushed against the side of her right eye. "..Yeah, I remember ya...What...happened to you?" In all of Katherine's experience, she had no idea how ghouls came about. Well, not exactly anyways. Radiation was the "no-duh" answer for mutations after some time, but that wasn't much of an explanation. And she had no idea what had happened to Cain in general.

At this point she happily took the food offered, managing a weak smile of gratitude in her slow recovery from the reveal that Zoey and Cain were who she thought. If anyone paid enough attention, they could tell she had nearly burst into tears-having prevented it already with her sweater. She seemed rather sore when inquired about the reasons for her own disappearance, clearly suggesting Johnson should instead explain his story by having the young advlt's teeth take a large bite into her food and dart her eyes up to Cain with a sort of almost requesting, inquisitive look.

Though, she forced down a bite to talk-mouth still slightly full-to explain, "Never heard of a "Manchester," didn't hear about The Warren 'til 'bout a minute ago." And to look to a Mr. Handy, which brought some fond memories, and greet, "Hey.....who is Mr. Frank?"
OOC: That's pretty awesome, Smiley. :] And a comic would be awesome. I've always had those sort of ideas-making a comic book out of a RP, but I've failed to have ever actually done it. In any case, it'd be interesting to have a history of the RP and fanfiction through imagery and such.

EDIT: Took forever to make the post, had to edit in response to the others. And my apologies for the ridiculously long post, I'll be careful to avoid this in future.

~Larry: Within The Warren~

I just walked through the streets, armed now of course.

The Warren had lost it's long time leader and a new one had stepped in to place. Violence had hit the streets. I was armed, of course.

I stood before The Warren Theatre thinking back. I remembered my introduction to the town naturally, I'll never forget that first suicide bombing. I'll never forget the ones that followed. We had fought for so long. The soldiers outside had fought and died, the police force within had fought when they could, but so often it was a simple matter of a man running up and pushing a button and then...then the man next to you was gone and you were on the floor with your ears ringing.

I'd lost a piece of myself in all of that. I couldn't say what it was, but I was a different person now. All the blood, all the fear, never knowing what would happen tomorrow. I was jumpy. I was paranoid. I was willing to accept a lie if I thought it bring me safety. I was willing to sacrifice a friend for safety.

To some degree I hated myself, but knew I wouldn't do anything to reverse matters. Zoey was gone, Mac and Collie were dead, and Ellis was in charge now. I only hoped that he cleaned up the streets soon.

I walk down through the markets, all closed tonight, it was late. I walked to the gate tower and looked out. It was cold and dark and I felt very much alone.

"It's something ain't it?" A voice to my side spoke out.

I turned quite quickly dropping my hand to the butt of my gun, but it was just Jimmy.

"Oh....hey Jimmy I'm sorry about..."

"No. Don't be sorry. I don't know exactly what the hell happened...but don't be sorry for his death. Don't be sorry for either of their deaths, Mac and Collie thought they were doing the right thing. ****...."

I look out into the darkness with Jimmy. He doesn't know the truth and I realize at this moment I can never tell him. Not in 10 years, not in 20, assuming we live that long, I can never tell him what has actually happened here. Time does not heal all wounds, he would kill me if he knew.

I stand beside him and look out into the cold darkness. It's the first time I've been with a friend but felt alone. It is a feeling I will come to be quite familiar with.

I tried to think up something to say to break the silence, but what do you say?

The silence just stretched on until I muttered an awkward, "Good night" and headed down to one of the lodgings. I settled in to bed, hoping not to dream.

OOC: Catching up with the old posts, I leave for a couple hours then this...shame I won't be able to really keep up. This'll turn into a post.

nvm curfew... :banghead: :sadvaultboy:

OOC: It's okay. We basically have two groups, one at The Warren and one at the Notah Tribe. The one at The Warren is moving slower. So you can still move at your own pace. Your story can unfold from inside The Warren with a couple lengthy post everyday or two. You probably won't be able to stay with the rest of the group as were moving pretty fast, but you can still participate in the RP. Turning this into a post...

~Cain Johnson~

“What happened to you?” Both Zoey and Kathy asked. I laughed, the sound was rough and grating.

“This happened. A combination of radiation, punks, and bad luck. Could be worse though, I could be one of those feral ghouls, at least I still have my sanity,”

Kathy was looking down embarrassed, I think now that she remembered who I was, she was ashamed for avoiding me. It's alright, I don't hold it against her. Just like the people who broke my legs or the ones who killed the only ghoul friend I've ever known. I don't hold against them, I look like a monster.

I tried to listen to Kathy story, but she clearly didn't want to talk about it. She seemed like she was on the verge of tears, I decided to elaborate what had happened to me. Hoping a story could break some of the ice,

“I'm not sure how one becomes like a ghoul like me. I think it's getting the right dose at the right time. Too much too fast and you die. Too much too slow and you become feral. Just the right amount to remain sane. At any rate, feral or sane, your still a ghoul. My legs were broken by a couple kids you though I was a feral, can't blame them myself, but...Well I'm paralyzed know. How's that for luck?”

I chuckled coldly. Lucky me. I didn't feel like continuing my story myself, and Kathy didn't seem to want to talk about her's.

Luckily business man brought something else to the table.

“No, I've never heard of Manchester. What does she look like,” someone important to him obviously. I didn't need to tell him the odds of her surviving, but everyone needs some hope.

And then the robot finally made his into camp. A protectron, maintenance model. Asking for a life. I started laughing and I couldn't stop, my sides shook, too bad I could no longer cry or I would have. It wasn't just the robot asking for life, it was this whole situation with all these people. It seemed so unreal. Even in a world that has been destroyed.

"You don't appear to be very well, my good chum. Has someone perhaps taken your life too?"

I slowly stopped laughing.
“Yes my friend, someone did indeed take my life. Many someones. And in fact I think everyone has had their life taken. Some why don't you come join us, maybe will find one together, pal,”

I smiled, which was a scary site. Robots can have personality cores and they react accordingly, it would best to stay on the Robots good side. Their tough son of a [censored]es.

I turned my head to Zoey.

“So what happened to you. You seem to hold that place,” I nodded with my head to The Warren, “in disgust”.

OOC: Phew. Tiring post.

OOC: Edited. Sorry. Didn't get the memo


IC:

"We're approaching a location marked by a large number of contacts. Stay down." A whisper from the shadows broke the silence of the night.

"It's one of the old Notoh Tribe Camps, I remember this area, I can see a fire. Does anyone have a better view?"

"Affirmative. Approximately 10 individuals crowded around a fire, they do not seem to be raiders, or any organized forced. Its just a bunch of refugees sir."

"We can't be too careful, move into position, keep a perimeter held. Just observe them for now, don't be seen."

Harry and his men, moved in to defensive positions around the group, but then more people started showing up, things were getting hairy.

Harry's headset came to life: "Sir, it seems that these are just scavengers and traders. I believe there is no need for engagement, perhaps we might get some valuable information out of them? Like perhaps they can confirm our reports on incidents within the Warren?" It was Ryan, the old pro.

"Ok, but I'm trusting you on this one, Ryan. Rob and David, hang back, just in case things get messy."

And with that Harry and Ryan approached the cluster of scavengers, and refugees. Harry and Ryan, though they were walking towards a fire, Harry approached the group, with his head up and his hand on the trigger. You can't trust anyone. That's what Dan did, and look what happened to him. Harry silently slipped a new magazine into his rifle.

Ryan spoke first: "Greetings Civilians, my name is Capt-"

"-Zoey? Is that you? Its been a while kid! You probably don't remember me, but I sure as hell remember you." Harry allowed his bandana to fall off his face, revealing a face that was scar-ridden. yet showed signs of confusion, and what may have been happiness, or relief, Harry wasn't sure. "It's a long way from the Warren...What the hell are you doing all the way out here?"

OOC:
No Stealth Suits, just pretend Dan didn't mention them and he can edit his post when he's on next. Be careful man, this looks eerily familiar.

We're going to keep High Tech stuff out of the story for awhile. Once someone has a Stealth Suit or Power Armor or some such other people have to have that to compete, it unbalances things and pretty suit everyone has Advanced Mark II Power Armor and Plasma Rifles.

MIRVIN is the most advanced piece of tech we've been exposed to so far and we shouldn't be in a rush to introduce more advanced stuff. No one thus far has Energy Weapons or Big Weapons, we're all using Small Arms.

IC:

~Guy Montag : Approaching the Fire~

Guy Montag walks slowly up to the bonfire with several blankets folded and laid over his shoulder.

The night is cold but he has grown rather used to it, living in the makeshift garden. He arrives to see several military men in dark clothing speaking with Zoey while the others look on. He is worried at first, having had a bad history with Army men, but decides to give them the benefit of the doubt.

Everyone deserves the benefit of the doubt. He offers Kathy and Cain blankets first, as they seem the most likely to be in need of warmth. He then stacks the two remaining blankets back away from the flames and settles down before the flames.

Fire is an interesting thing. When used properly it can make your life more comfortable and even save you from the biting cold, when used improperly it can cause mass destruction.

"-Zoey? Is that you? Its been a while kid! You probably don't remember me, but I sure as hell remember you."

One of the men says as he pops off his helmet, revealing a heavily scarred face.

"What the hell are you doing all the way out here?"

Vincent Reins - Notoh Tribe

"I'm..I'm back in the Warren", Vincent shouted in amazement wondering how he had gotten back into the city. Looking around he could see that the once prosperous city where he once lived happily had descended into a state of anarchy and chaos. Walking the streets it was clear that mob rule had taken over as people were beaten in the streets, cries of women and children echoed throughout the city, citizens were dragged into alleyways never to be seen again, fires burned uncontrollably, bodies littered the streets, and looting was commonplace wherever he walked.

Dazed by the horrific sight he had bore witness to Vincent unknowingly had walked up to the theater where Samuel whom he had never had the opportunity to meet once ruled. This had all changed when Samuel was murdered in cold blood the Warren's leading position passing to a man named Ellis whom Vincent had never truly trusted. The man was a power hungry snake not unlike the traitor Sergeant Rick Doran who attempted to steal Warren secrets to hand over to Abu Nidel in exchange for a position of power in Mohammed's army.

Vincent was taken away from his thoughts by a soldier who was hollering out at him. "Hey, I recognize you! Yeah. Your that traitor, Vincent who fled with that murderer, Zoey.", he spat. Pointing his weapon at Vincent he ordered him not to move. Being unarmed there was nothing Vincent could do but allow himself to be taken into custody.

After being dragged inside the theater Vincent was thrown before Ellis. It took him less than a minute to decide that Vincent would hang for being a traitor to the Warren and his esteemed regime. Vincent was then forcefully dragged back outside to a large platform near the front of the theater. There a man wearing a long black hood waiting beside a chair and noose which had been tied to a long length of wood. As Vincent was led up the platform a large crowd stopped their senseless violence coming over to see what was happening. The hooded figure then picked Vincent up placing him onto the chair. The hooded man then placed the noose around his neck. Just as the executioner was going to kick the chair from under him, Ellis appeared wanting to say a few words.

"Citizens of the Warren! I know we are going through a very trying time in our cities history. Never fear however I have stepped forth to lead the Warren into a new golden age of prosperity. We have stood strong against Abu Nidel wiping them from existence permanently. Now we face a crisis closer to home, the murder of our leader Samuel by a group of traitorous conspirators. We now hold one of the traitors before us. I ask you good people what should be done with one of the traitors who assisted Zoey in slaying our former leader?"

"TRAITORS DESERVE DEATH! DEATH TO THE TRAITOR! HANG HIM NOW!", these were only a few of the taunts hurled at Vincent who realized his fate was sealed.

With a smug grin on his face Ellis swaggered over to Vincent. "You see Vincent, I gave you a chance to stand beside me but instead you decide to help Zoey. Now look where that has gotten you kid...right into a hangman's noose. Look at me though I'm holding all the cards with the Warren firmly in grasp." Lightly smacking Vincent's face, "I'm sorry it had to be this way kid. It was just business you know, nothing personal."

With his taunting dehumanization of Vincent complete Ellis returned to his previous spot. Turning to face the executioner, "Do it!", he hollered as he pointed his thumb down.

Just as the chair was kicked out from under him...

Vincent was shaken waking him from his nightmare. Opening his eyes slowly he saw that one of the Notoh tribe women was standing over him.

"You've missed breakfast again, sleeping another day away are we?"

Vincent simply grunted in reply waiting for the woman to leave him alone so he could go back to sleep.

"Well you sure are talkative.", she said sarcastically. "Well I've brought you a piece of Brahmin meat in case your hungry."

Vincent grunted again.

"Fine I'll just leave it on the table then I'll be out of your hair", she said as the ceramic bowl full of meat was set down. The woman then turned leaving Vincent's shack.

Looking over at the meat it was easy to tell it was hot as steam still rose from the bowl which meant it was freshly cooked. To bad Vincent still hadn't regained his appetite. He remembered parts of the nightmare which stirred his memory of Sergeant Doran. Sitting up Vincent opened the drawer of the bedside table retrieving the only item held within Sergeant Doran's badge. Holding it in his hands he pondered the words Ellis had said to him in his dream. Hurling the badge back within the drawer in disgust Vincent cupped his face. Needing a pick-me-up Vincent lifted his pillow grabbing the engraved silver tankard he kept hidden there.

Unscrewing the cap he took several large gulps of his poison of choice - Vodka. Vincent drinking so rapidly spilled a good deal of the liquid on his T-shirt. After his thirst had been quenched he replaced the cap and hid the tankard back under his pillow.

Slightly buzzed Vincent lay back down hoping for better dreams.

OOC: Whew! This is one of the few posts where I really like what I've done. Hopefully I captured Ellis' character well in Vincent's nightmare Smiley. Finally Happy Holidays Everyone!

Damien Marx

I grumbled a little and continued to eat when a girl, about 22 or so, walked towards us. I instantly grabbed my pistol before the other two seemed to recognize her as Zoey. Trying to keep with good relations, especially considering I have about a 0.01% chance of taking these people down in a firefight, I started my diplomatic skills back up, remembering all the skills my parents taught me before the War.
"A pleasure to meet you Ms..." I paused before another figure caught my eye.
"-Zoey? Is that you? Its been a while kid! You probably don't remember me, but I sure as hell remember you."
Again, I grew wary as the more people there were, the less chance I would successfully find Evelyn or worse, get caught up in all this.

I drummed my fingers on the table before speaking out loud, hoping to group their attention on my person rather than my intentions. "Excuse me good people. What exactly is going on?"

The fact that Cain moved on, and was laughing at any point, was reassuring enough to permit Kathy to recover a bit more, she continued to take large bites of the steak. It wasn't very feminine, and to a few probably upsetting somehow-even now. Yet, after all these years, there wasn't even the slightest, most minute and remote care in the starving girl's body that was concerned about her appearance or more raw and basic of manners. The survivor didn't live in that kind of world anymore, and even when Kathy had, she hadn't been that concerned in the first place. The past experiences of starvation were happily cast away to be replaced by new ones of being "overfed." Of feeling stuffed, which wasn't hard to accomplish at this point.

It seemed that the man had even more terrible luck than Katherine herself, and a bit of both empathy and sympathy seemed to emerge amongst her otherwise growingly neutral to friendly look toward the two. Perhaps it was stupid to be this quick to look past her poor memories of ghouls-which were all of them until now, or to trust anyone based on the fact she had a good memory of and recognized the faces of them..but that counted for a lot in the Wasteland. Though this wasn't really a new attitude of hers, she often melted into her more amiable of natures anytime someone didn't seem simply out to get her. It just was the case that she hadn't experienced any event like that for years. "Sorry 'bout that, buddy, I've shared my own pains, though nothin' like that..exactly...At least ya got your sanity, eh? I wouldn't of gotten to really see ya again otherwise." At that, she managed somewhat of a grin, a sort of glow momentarily, seemingly, breaking through and destroying the grimness of her disheveled face.

The young advlt kept her ears open to the many conversations, partially waiting for Zoey's answer while trying to maintain her position in the others somewhat.

Some men who appeared to be of an organized group came about, one apparently recognizing the very woman Kathy had just realized she knew. The youthful, yet unhealthy and emotionally recuperating girl was less guarded than before-yet she became more neutral, almost more curious, and watchful again as more strangers came about. Especially ones that seemed to be of the or related to the military-the pre-war memories could often be as poor of quality as the post-war ones. "Capt-ain...who? Where are you all from?" And why did they recognize Zoey, or ask the questions that they did?

To the brunette's surprise, another stranger offered her a blanket, and Kathy's head angled upward slightly to glance at him. Random benevolence to a stranger was a thing of bewilderment, but after a brief pause she wrapped the object about her, responding with a "Thank you." and a "..Your name is..?"

Suddenly another man beckoned for the entire group's attention, and so he-like everyone else-was given some sort of divided but decent attention from Kathy. Large but slightly drooping, hazel eyes fell upon him. "Depends on what ya mean...I just came from down south-and since I got here it's been an amusingly large bunch of good ol' dandy surprises. The first one being that I'm not shot by now." The final statement was only threaded with the lightest of sarcasm, as that was pretty true to her life-instead it almost sounded bitter, not toward her current scenario but rather her past ones.

"I didn't know this many people were in this camp, or anywhere nearby." After a pause to think, she admitted, "I don't remember catching your name in all the talk-you are?"

OOC: Mr.Smiley I put in an earlier post that Mivrin had a laser pistol in his rucksack. If it's too advanced do you want me to edit it out or just not have Mirvin tell anyone about it?

IC:
MIRVIN

“Yes my friend, someone did indeed take my life. Many someones. And in fact I think everyone has had their life taken. Some why don't you come join us, maybe will find one together, pal,” The sick man in the wheelchair said.

Mirvin was puzzled, the sick man, Mr Cain had claimed that all present had had their lives taken. They all seemed quite alive. They were talking and all appeared to be breathing. But, Mirvin had to concede that he had been programmed as a mechanic, not a doctor. The man in the wheelchair was probably much more of an expert on life and death than Mirvin.

The sick man had asked Mirvin if he wished to remain with the group, Mirvin would have purpose. For now the people seemed to have accepted Mirvin's presence.
Perhaps this was the comunity Mr Frank had talked about, Mirvin had only realy encountered one other comunity before, back in the auto-shop before Mr Eddie had sent Mr Frank and Mirvin away. A comunity seemed to be a group of people with a common cause, working together. Mirvin found the proposal most acceptable. Before Mirvin could answer another member of the group spoke.

"Hey....Who is Mr. Frank." Mirvin's feet thumped the ground as he shambled around to face the young woman. She was quite emaciated, appearing to be suffering from malnutritian and covered with grime.

"Mr Frank is my master, young miss. Mr Frank Horn, proprietor of "Good old Frank's classic restorations" the repair shop where I was a mechanic." Mirvin rasped "Mr Frank sent me away. He seemed to be getting sick, not as sick as Mr Cain here, but he told me he was very old. He ordered me to leave him in the shack and not return."

Several other people around the fire were involved in conversations of their own. Mirvin didn't know weather anyone was listening to him. He knew humans found each others' conversation more important than anything a machine had to say. A heavily scarred newcomer had arrived and was talking with the first woman who had spoken to Mirvin, identifying her as Miss Zoey. Mirvin regarded the group and decided to remain quiet until they had finished talking to one another. The emaciated young woman appeared to be trying to listen to several conversations at once. During his time at the repair shop Mirvin had had experience with starvation, humans were so terribly fragile at time. As part of a comunity Mirvin should help if he could.

Mirvin retrieved one of the bottles from the floor and waddled over to the young woman. He held the bottle out before him. "Please take this young miss, you appear to be malnourished and dehydrated. My scans have detected no impurities and no radiation so it is quite safe."

~Cain Johnson~

I looked down at my meat, I had only been able to finish half of it. The camp had suddenly become crowded with multiple conversations going at the same time, I was trying to answer all of the ones that weren't directed to anyone. It kind of seemed like a family reunion, the way everyone just walked into camp, like they knew and belonged here.

But I only had to look past the warm and out into the wastes to be reminded of what a cruel world it actually was, the fire was nice. But it wasn't safe, nothing was. The Warren, on the horizon, testified to that. I would stay here though, the people were accepting.

"Sorry 'bout that, buddy, I've shared my own pains, though nothin' like that..exactly...At least ya got your sanity, eh? I wouldn't of gotten to really see ya again otherwise,” Kathy grinned. And it did wonders for her look, she really should smile more.

Maybe down the barrel of a rifle.

I thought, quietly reflecting on past experiences. But I didn't need to say it aloud, don't want to ruin the fun, so I just mumbled,

“Yeah, at least I have that.”

I watched as the robot gave Kathy some water, clean one too. He was talking to her, but I doubt she was listening, most people just push robots out of the way because their “inhuman”. I had felt similar until I had developed my condition, know I felt kind of close to them. Crazy, I know.

"Excuse me good people. What exactly is going on," The business man questioned obviously annoyed.

“That's the million dollar question. But I stay tuned, it looks like something is about to go down,” I said quietly.

I was looking at the soldier type who had just walked up, I didn't know what was going but it looked like he knew Zoey, I wanted to hear what they had to say, seemed interesting.

OOC: I'm going to wait for Venix to post 'cause she has the potential to move this along.

OOC: Glad to see so much life from this. Happy holidays to all of you of course. I haven't played Brotherhood yet, but I'm going to get it prob next year. I been chilling with new Vegas...speaking of which, any of you got any good quotes?


To help out, I view the Warren in http://www.greatdreams.com/weather/kankas-tornado_MG.jpg, except on a high rise overlooking the rest of the wastes and two or three taller buildings.

Johnny Collins

Johnny woke up, still tired, and definitely still upset. however, time doesn't stop for grief, so he pulled himself out from his parent's old bed and went to his father's dresser. He opened it, anticipating some casual wear from before the war that his dad might have packed, but he only found some oversized slacks and a plaid shirt. It'll have to do, he thought slipping out of his current clothes. He needed a shower badly, but hadn't touched soap in two days, but at least he still had all his skin.

After dressing into his too loose outfit, he walked over to the nightstand by his mother's bed and looking in the drawer, finding some ten bottle caps, which was the currency since post-war. He did see the floor safe under the bed, but he was a terminal hacker, not a lockpicker. As satisfied as he would be with his current look, he grabbed the belt and some squirrel stew his mother had half-eaten in a cooler in the living/everything else room and ate it as he left out.

Most would feel quite powerless walking the now dangerous streets of the Warren alone and unarmed, but John was a reader, and was self-trained in hand-to-hand combat, which meant the odds were in his favor as long as his opposition was within four feet of him. Walking the streets solemnly, hands in his pockets, he looked around at his surroundings as he entered the main concentrated area. It wasn't grand and tall like pre-par cities, but it did what it could. There were no blocks, just houses facing every which way, with a large theater in the middle, second in height next to the slightly impromptu bureau building, which was a whopping three stories.

Near the theater, he saw some man walking the streets get yanked into a small crevice between houses, followed by some whimpering. John kept his head down as he walked past the alley-way, getting a good look at the perpetrator before continuing on his way. He was entering the bureau when he jumped at the faint sound of a weapon firing in the distance...

In the small building, he was planning on heading to whoever was in charge, so he asked the first man he saw with a big gun.

"Do you know who's in charge of the Warren's police force?" John asked a slightly muscular man wielding a very dangerous looking weapon. He smiled down at him, revealing capped front teeth and emitting the foul stench of alcohol.

"And what brings you to him? He's not a man for 'visitors'."

"I'd like to join your force." John commanded strongly, but respectfully. He knew how young he looked, especially in the clothes he was wearing, but they needed all the help they could get to keep the place in running condition.

The man just looked at the boy blankly, smile long faded away. His face was lost and his eyes seemed to be doing the searching, as they swept through Johnny rapidly without even the smallest twitch, then he spoke.

"Third floor, room 315."

Johnny nodded, he was making progress.

William once again sat on his desk, contemplating the firestorm that would soon engulf him in a matter of hours. He realized that if he lost, then he would never get another easy chance to bring Ellis down. If he could not act decisively here then he would be doing a great injustice to Samuel. Yet at the same time William also began planning for ways to shield him from possible loss. The first thing was for him to avoid being a candidate for the election. While it may have seemed counterproductive to the attack he was currently making he had not explicitly stated he would be running in the elections. All he said was that he would participate in the debate that would set the stage for the elections.

Instead, putting forward a candidate to run for him would be a good solution. Although he had many times spoke of high ideals his sense of self preservation had not left him yet. He would have to get someone innocent and harmless to do the job, yet still experienced enough to pass as a candidate. In the event that his candidate won William could simply wait until Ellis and Stane was eliminated, where he could then take his time to take power. This would only be kept in the event that defeat seemed certain of course, he would not keep himself from the position if there was nothing else barring his path.

It did not occur to William that some of his ideals were not too different from that of Ellis. He believed that whatever happened, he would certainly be a better ruler than Ellis. A kid, he mused. could be a better(or at least softer) ruler than Ellis. It was at this moment that a boy who barely looked eighteen, possibly even younger, walked in his office unimpeded.

A million thoughts went through William's head at that moment. Who was this person? How did he get in here? Why did the guards let him in? Was this thin scrawny youth an assassin? Is this the end for him?

He reached for his pistol immediately and pointed it directly at the seemingly unarmed assassin. It was a tremendous error on the part of his staff to have allowed a person in without any notification at all. Given that Ellis and Stane wanted him out of the way security was a very real concern. These had been hard lessons taught by Abu Nidal assassins. Though it was unlikely this was anything more than a slip up on the part of his men, William took no chances with this sort of thing.

"Who sent you here to kill me huh? I'll bet it was Ellis who told you to kill me! Well here's a message to your boss! No one tries to kill me in my own office!" His hands were almost trembling from anger, he didn't realize just how paranoid he was getting.

Making sure the boy was at least ten feet away from him, William asked more calmly, "I'm going to give you ten seconds to convince me not to put a bullet in your head. Start talking."

OOC: sorry I havnt made a post yesterday got way too svcked into the NV DLC dead money (how cool is that name!) the atmosphere is amazing next thing I knew it was half three in the morning will make an ic post a bit later now have to drive through snow to go to peterbourugh to get my sister this is gonna be fun.

Could everyone involved please send me a PM describing your characters? Eye color, hair style, hair color, distinctive facial features, basic attire (just shirt/glasses/earring/nose ring/hat/necklace)

I don't know if I'll ever get around to doing many more but I've been working on more detailed versions of those little cartoons I did. I'll post one for Cain and one for MIRVIN pretty soon.

OOC: What's going on round the campfire guys? Are we still waiting for venix to move the story along with dan?

I'll edit this into a post once I know what's going on. Sorry if I seem impatient

OOC: Working on a PM for ya right now, Smiley. :]
And, Kettle, that's exactly the situation right now-though it's not so much just with Dan as it is in general. Venix says he'll be getting a post up sometime soon, so with any luck that'll be a post made today. :]

OOC: I already posted an image of what my character looked like for you guys.

Johnny Collins

As soon as he entered the room the man who was sitting down on the desk immediately grabbed for his pistol and raised it at Johnny.


Johnny froze, as he looked down the barrel of the pistol, knowing full well death was only a trigger finger and a paranoid politician away. It wasn't the first time since after the war he had a gun in his face, but it wasn't something he was too fond of getting used to in life.

"Who sent you here to kill me huh? I'll bet it was Ellis who told you to kill me! Well here's a message to your boss! No one tries to kill me in my own office!"

All he wanted to do was possibly negotiate, and now he was being threatened as an assassin. His hands instinctively shot strait up while he thought of how silly the thought of him being a trained killer would have been if his heart wasn't in his throat. The man extended the distance between them, eviscerating any chance Johnny had with disarming him.

"I'm going to give you ten seconds to convince me not to put a bullet in your head. Start talking."

"I'd like to..." He took a breath and averted his eyes elsewhere, looking at the gun made him lose his train of thought. "I'd like to maybe help you out, sir. My mom worked for you guys." He instinctively began to reach for the badge that belonged to his mother and fish it out of his pocket, but Johnny didn't want his blood over the hallway floor, so after a few quick, awkward glances between the man and his pocket, he asked nervously:

"Can I show you? I have her badge."

OOC: okay here is my long overdue IC post sorry guys, also just a note to everyone pay attention to what time of day it is and don't move it along a stupid speeds, at one point i said it was mid morning then two posts later it was night time.

IC: Things where getting hectic around the fire quick.

"Ok look to answer your question, no i don't know or have ever heard of Evelyn Manchester. There might be someone at the Warren by that name but i don't quite have access to the records at this moment in time." The sound of anger and hate still rode in Zoey's voice

"Apologies, the tone of my voice is not intended for you, i hope you find this Evelyn" Zoey raised her hand sympathetically.

"Zoey? Is that you? Its been a while kid! You probably don't remember me, but I sure as hell remember you." Zoey turned to see a man take a bandanna off to reveal a scarred face, it was Harry, one of Dan's old Red berets

"Well [censored], Harry is that you its good to see you, i suppose your wandering whats going on too." Zoey looked at the people around the fire,Sarah, Cain, Kathy, Harry, The robot and the business guy.

"Kathy, the Notah are everywhere around this camp, a fire just seems to draw others in"

"Whoever said i looked at the Warren with hate, or something along those lines. No i do not hate the Warren, i hate its new leader Ellis and his [censored] Stane. They killed the old leader of the Warren in cold blood and framed me for it, Samuel he was a good man. They also got Mac and Collie killed and framed me for it, two friends of mine. Ellis will rule that place with an iron fist, he doesn't deserve to even be in the confines of its walls." Zoey spoke loud, everyone wanted to know what was going on so she was going to make damn sure they knew. Zoey stood up and pulled the S.A.S beret out of her pocket and looked at the winged dagger on it, she then placed it on her head.

"I live my life by one phrase, Who Dare's wins. Now, I'm not saying i deserve the Warren but i tell you all now i am going to dare to try and take it back, and get the rightfull leader in place. If any of you Dare to help me, when we succeed i can guarantee you access to one of the safest places in the Wichita wasteland. If you dare i suggest you meet me in that tent over there." Zoey pointed at a tent, she then piced up her rifle and walked over

"You don't even have t ask me to dare, you know i will" Sarah jumped up and followed Zoey to the tent. Zoey made sure that he statement was loud enough for everyone to hear, however she was never good at public speaking, but on an individual or small group situation she could make most people believe whatever she wanted.

Zoey bashed open the tent door and pulled out her knife and began outlining the Warren in the dirt and waited to see if anyone wanted the Warren back except for her and Sarah. However she didn't have Vincent's opinion he must of still been asleep.

OOC: Let's do this!

~Cain Johnson~

“Well that was unexpected,” I mumbled to no one in particular. I had no idea my words were fire her up so much.

Zoey's speech was a passionate one, with a fire in her eyes I seldom see anyone nowadays. I do not know if she was telling the truth, I had no idea of what transpired, Collie was familiar and Samuel. But how did I know if they were murdered unjustifiably. But what I did know was that The Warren was in trouble and that these people were the only ones who ever showed me any bit of compassion.


“The Warren is in trouble, it's the biggest settlement in the Wastes and was once the safest. We now have the choice of liberating it and making the biggest event in the history of the newly born world. Do you have the balls to stand up and shape the world. Or going to sit down with your tail between your legs and wait for things to be over.”

I didn't say my speech as passionately as Zoey and it most certainly didn't sound as pretty, but I wanted to make my point.

“I, for one, would like to be charge of how the story unfolds,” I finished as I rolled over to where Zoey was at. I placed my hand on her shoulder,

“Count me in. I can carry my own weight.”

OOC: Sweet...

Damien Marx

"Ok look to answer your question, no i don't know or have ever heard of Evelyn Manchester. There might be someone at the Warren by that name but i don't quite have access to the records at this moment in time." Zoey had a somewhat stern and angry tone in her voice, something I knew to be a threat to be quickly "disposed" of.

But she quickly apologized and said the tone wasn't meant for me. It was enough however, for me to stay wary about Zoey. Or that could be paranoia. After some other introductions and quick conversations, Zoey started a speech, passion and a fire I haven't seen since the Great War burning in her eyes. During the speech, only one thing kept my eye, her SAS beret and her "Who Dares Win" speech. The SAS was the A-Zodiac's most frightening foe, only on par with our elite Denarii troopers. But the fire that was burning in her eyes just explained everything. There was no SAS, nor A-Zodiac. Everybody trying to retake the Warren were all one squad under one goal.

I had no place to go and promised Evelyn I would rebuild the A-Zodiac Empire so there was only one course of action. It would go against every piece of my military and tactical training but I took a deep breath and nodded. "I may be a newcomer...but I will join you. I'm very good with a gun and could be your strategist or military adviser."

The Pip-Boy on my arm seemed to be the only thing I could feel as my mind focused on what lies above. I went out of the tent to where Zoey was making a map of the Warren. With a quick scan of the map, a hundred different opportunities went through my mind. The ghoul on the wheelchair also came out and put a hand on Zoey's shoulder.
“Count me in. I can carry my own weight.”

I also nodded, overlooking the map. Did I really want to help retake the Warren? The answer came quickly...no. What I want is to remake my revolutionary organization...only this time, I will succeed. But to do this, I need the help of these people. I quietly stared at the map of The Warren. "Consider me on your crew."

--Katherine Adler
Notah Camps

Yet again there was a mixture of empathy and sympathy to be had for the robot she had just met-though she had missed his name too in all the confusion. Damn. "Sorry 'bout that, pal. I think everyone's lost someone by now..I feel for ya, for sure, on that one. I think everyone does." Of course, there was nothing to indicate that Mirvin felt any sort of pain whatsoever over the absence of his former master's presence. The Protectron might not have even recognized the fact that the elderly man was most probably dead, if he cared about the loss of having him around at all. Still, there was always the possibility-many robots seemed to understand a lot more, and "feel"-in a way-a lot more than one might expect. That was one thing she had learned from the experience of tinkering with them in her younger years.

The large, wrinkled, tired hazel eyes blinked at the bottle-why was everyone acting so nice? Even the robot, who had stated himself as a mechanic-there was unlikely any programming making it a compulsory action to aid a human being health. Robots like that were usually created or programmed to help in the medical field, or something of that sort. It felt almost surreal, really. Having finished the food by now-being rather quick in eating most anything due to her experiences of the harsh wasteland, one of her hands momentarily dropped their grip on the blanket she had been given to take the bottle. The grin momentarily flashed across her face, like a random beam of sunlight, toward the robot, "Thanks, real nice of ya." After opening the bottle and consuming a brief drink, the young woman gave another glance to her new acquaintance, admitting, "With everyone talkin' and all, I didn't hear ya if or when you introduced yourself. So what do ya call yourself?"

Cain's sudden mumbling was nagging Kathy's curiosity-and in a way, concern, but she had a feeling she would either not want to know, be unable to help, or just make the situation worse...or somethin' like that. So she didn't bother, she only found herself trying to keep slightly more upbeat to make up for her past attitude toward the man.

Then Zoey spoke up, and Kathy paused all her business to listen for a moment, the brunette's entire body sort of frozen. As if that helped her pay better focus to Zoey.

When she spoke, she spoke with angry words-poison lathered thickly over the names "Ellis" and "Stane." Two in which she didn't recognize-but some of the others struck a familiarity in her brain, especially Samuel, and her pupils seemed to momentarily widen in shock. I sort of seriousness came about-her eyes pressed against lowering, stern, dark brows, her mouth flattened with what seemed to be almost frowning edges, her face wrinkling in a solemn way. "Samuel..Collie...the two from when I met you all-you and Cain?" The very thought followed the tightening of her hand's grips-one wrinkling the blanket about her shoulders, the other pressing hard on a still notably full and currently capped bottle. Killing was nothing knew, it was who was killed, by whom they were killed, and why that mattered.

The story alone might not have convinced Kathy to participate-not at that point-and even now with some other factors piled in, there was uncertainty in her mind. Much of the time, under it all, she wanted to be social and friendly, generous if it was possible-but survival was most important. More so, Kathy only heard one side through one rather vague story thus far-she had no idea what she could be getting into, and the girl had never liked the feeling of such an ignorance that she felt lost. The case altered, however, when she saw both Cain and Zoey heading for the tent to plan whatever they intended to plan-from the little the once upper middle class knew and recalled of them, it was positive. That, more than most else at this point, was enough to inspire Katherine to bring herself upon her own two feet and trail after the two.

"I'd be glad to help ya out, Zoey. Though I'd like to know more later." Adler wasn't about to accept total, blind support when it possibly risked her own life, as well as others. Hell, she wouldn't ever accept absolutely blind support period.

OOC: Just making a quick response to the older posts before moving on with Venix's, to explain the start of mine.