OOC: Mark that was hillarious "barrel chamber" no such thing on a gun, chamber is where a gun jams either because the bolt isnt engauged correctly or it needs a cleaning. And yes currency in the vault isnt bottle caps, it's food vouchers. Drake u can be in a gang, just not the black hand, here I'll name it, give it a start off post, if you wanna be the gang leader which you are free to be. Just edit your last character sheet and your good to go.

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Otis got done tightening the joints of the hot water pipe, in the thrid floor boiler room. He wiped the grease of hishands onto his utility jumpsuit, and slung his Atomic Doctorine leather jacket on. He would finish the rest of his work up tomarrow. Now he just wanted to head down to the diner. The employee's always gave him and other gang members booze under the table. He jetted down the stairs to the second level, passing a nerdy scientist, pushing him against the wall, he snagged three of his meal vouchers. "Thanks [censored], remember keep your mouth shut, our it will lose some teeth." Funny that guy was nearly twice his age, but that didnt matter growing up without a mom in lousy maintinence corridors with his dad is enough to make anykid as tough as nails. He swung around the corner to the diner where he was met by "HEEEEEEY Otey!" tradition was a beutiful thing, everynight 6.00 the boys got together and listened to those classic's from the 50's and 60's. There where about 9 members in the Atomic Doctorine vault gang. Everyone of them serving a different purpose, there was Cliff, who was great with picking locks, plus had a hot cousin that Otis was nailing for the past two months, but dont tell him that. There was Biscut, who was a biscut away from a thousand pounds, he was great for shakedowns, more than once he was used to sit on someone's head. Than there was Marco, who was a computer geek before he proved himself as one tough mother [censored], he could slice into the overseer's terminal from his home computer, and remove security reports. All in all it was a pretty close knit group. Otis looked and saw the diner employee Tawhiri was struggling with the food processor. "Here," he stated, handing him a wrench. "Try and loosen the top valve." Soon after that Josh stepped threw the door.

is it too late to add a new character?

-Name: Allen White
-Age: 42
-Race: White
-Job: Bar Drunk/ Repairman
-History: although perpetually drunk in order to forget about the death of his wife and daughter at the hands of a crazed vault resident, Allen is a kind but stern man who believes in nothing more than justice despite his failure to become a vault security guard due to psychological instability. He would later break into the cell holding his family's murderer and break his spine with his bare hands.
-Weapon: .44 magnum (handed down from his great-grandfather, nobody has dared try to take it away due to his stature, constant drunkenness, and the nature of the weapon itself)/ combat knife
-appearance: A giant of a man, standing at 6 and a half feet tall and heavily muscled. he has a thick beard and graying black hair. When sober, he wears an armoured vault utility jumpsuit, a shoulder holster in which he carries his gun, and 2 bandoliers around his waist containing 225 rounds of pre-war ammunition. When he is drinking however, he wears only his utility jumpsuit and the shoulder holster containing his gun.

Allen awoke from his drunken stupor to find yet another young punk trying to stealthily lift his .44 from its home beneath his arm. It took less than a second for the hooligan to realize the Giant had awoken, but that was more time than Allen needed. He moved like a snake, breaking first the hood's grip, then his wrist in one movement. Third time this month. His pip-Boy (an older model) said it was before noon so he got up quietly, ignoring the profanity that assualted his ears from the now prostrate youth, and took a moment to regain his composure and let his heart slow before he left the bar and made his way down the hallway toward the Maintenance Office. "Poor Kid", the thought, "just a teenager and almost lost an arm trying to steal a useless weapon." Allen had long ago learned to leave both bandoliers and all but one bullet locked in a secret compartment in the lower levels of the vault when he was drinking, but once he sobered up, he armed himself to the teeth. The Supervisor had only one assignment for Allen today, but what an assignment it was! A pipe had burst at the bottom of service shaft 21F. That meant he would have to stash his firearm too. He had never actually fired it before, but he didn't like to be without it. if any of his shells got wet there would be no guarantee they would ever be useful again, and that was untreated waste water down there; a weapon as old and powerful as his magnum (he had come to call it Ajax, after a hero from a story he heard as a child) deserved better than what Allen was about to go through. With a sigh, Allen changed into his rad-suit, grabbed his repair bag and toolbox and left down the corridor toward his stash. Before he left his gun behind and began the trek to shaft 21F, he was struck with the thought, "what could possibly cause a pipe to break way down there? those pipes aren't even in use." but it was quickly replaced by thoughts of the wife and daughter that had been taken from him. He could not wait to get back to the bar.




OOC: first time i have actually written anything in my life, and i am quite proud. good?

"Where the hell are the security around here!?" In anger, Tawhiri decides to take a Police Baton from a nearby bin(In bad CND, luckily skilled in repairing) and take things into his own power.
Tawhiri starts running up to people asking who has been in his fields messing with the proc units. So far no one knows anything or are to scared to say anything. Tawhiri thinks otherwise and looks to the younger generation in the Vault.

OOC: i'd add more but im alittle tired ATM

-Name: Luther O'Donald
-Age: 38
-Race: Caucasian
-Job: No Proffession/Gang-Member
-History: Luther has been known to have a very confusing mental-illness. although he is 38 years old, he beleives he is 16 and part of a gang called the "Vault Scorpions." because of this illness he is rarley ever approached by anybody in the vault, he sleeps on the sofa in the diner, despite having his own room and is isolated from the rest of the vault.
-Weapon: Scuffed Baseball Bat. he found it under the bed of a deceased member, he sleeps with it, eats with it and walks with it. it never leaves his side.
-Appearance: His hair has grown down to his middle-back and he has a slightly shaven beard. he is about 5ft 8 and wears a white jacket over his jumpsuit, with a poorly drawn scorpion on the back and "Vault Scorpions" on top, with "Rule!" on the bottom. he has lost all vision in one eye and is missing the index finger of his left hand.

(Sorry if its too late to make a new character)

OOC - Sorry i forgot to say, the "Vault scorpions" gang doesnt actually Exsist, it is just part of my characters mental illness, and there a no other members.

OOC: rofl, I told you I know nothing of guns oh well.

Mark unlocked the door into his security office and sat down at the chair infont of the HUGE screen showing him all the live video feeds and if he wanted, some of the past feeds.
Hello big screen, what have we today? Any stupid brats breaking stuff? Anything at all? mark thought.
"God I hope something breaks today. This job is boring as crap when nothing is happening" said Mark " maybe some one will start a barfight! That will give the protectrons someting to do" Mark said wistfully, as he pushed his glasses up on his nose better. He turned in his chair to a control terminal to check up on simon. " Darnit, why couldn't you have knocked some old lady down!" " GAH I need something to do!" Exclaimed Mark as he returned watching the gigantic screen.

OOC:Rikashiku, I set you up with this post.

Luther threw off his itchy, torn blanket and arose from the chair, he rubbed his eyes as the light blurred his vision for a moment. he looked around him slowly, and noticed his baseball bat was missing. Luther went into panic, he threw up the table looking for it, scrounging around the floor, unaware he had it on his belt. it took him a good 10 minutes before he noticed it, and with a sigh of releif he sat down on the chair again, he stared blankly at the wall for a moment, then got up and threw on his Vault Scorpions Jacket. He spat into his hands and brushed them along his hair, walking out of the diner, thinking he's cool. as he proceeded down the coridoor he shouted out "Vault Scorps RULE!" and started running and screaming. "GET THEM OFF, GET THEM OFF! LEAVE ME ALONE!" he started swinging around clawing at his hair "SOMEONE HELP ME!!!" he reached for his bat and swung it several times in the midst of the air "GET OFF OF ME!" he kicked the door open to the bar, "HELP ME!" but unfortunatley tripped on a fallen stool, and crashed down to the bristly-cold metal floor, banging his head.

EDIT: Spelling

Jackson jumped out of his seat as the man dropped to the ground, accidentally knocking his drink over in the process. The man had taken one hell of a tumble. He gave the bartender a look, hoping he'd have some idea what to do. No such luck. He didn't know who this man was, maybe he lived on another side of the vault? He had to believe somebody yelling and swinging a bat around would have gotten in some trouble before. His brow furrowed as he inched a bit closer.

"Hey, you alright?"

The guy was carrying a weapon, and whatever situation he was in had made him ready to lash out. The blond vault dweller made sure to keep his body angled to the side, presenting the smallest target he could in case the man decided to start swinging with the bat. Jackson couldn't fight worth a damn, but he had enough smarts to get by.

Luther looked up towards the man, he then moved away very frightened, "Get away from me!!, please, don't hurt me!" and curled up in a ball. Luther had forgotten to take his medication, and is now a walking wreck.

OOC: Sorry for short post, kinda busy atm lol

Edit: Spelling errors (again)

Otis took a break from his beer, and snapped Bicut over, they picked him up by the arms, gave him a pat on the back, and threw him outta the diner. "Man these Vault Scorpions must be really tough. They will probably be coming after us soon!" laughed Otis. Biscut just smiled lighting up a cigarrete, between his huge chubby fingers. "Jesus we better be perpared." They walked back into the diner and started playing "King of the road"

I guess ill get in on it but youll need to summarize whats happened for me,
Name: Tim Post
Age: 17
Race: French
Job: Student/resturant waiter
History: Tim was raised by his grandmother, his mother died at child birth, his father died of lung cancer. He's been raised in a pampered environment, but doesn't let it soften him.
Weapon: switchblade
Appearence: Tim is about 6 feet, he's not a ma with an athletic build, but is definently strong. He's got brown hair, a little long and never combed and is howver it ends up.

so what should i be doing?

OOC: Not Gonna Be In A Gang As A Matter Of Fact.

OOC:BTW who is the overseer.

Tom walks up to Otis and said,"how is it goin".

Otis turns see's some random security officer talking to him, blows some smoke from his cigarette in hit face. Than walks off "Why the hell are the pigs talking to me??"

OOC: Add some more to your post's once sentence dosent cut it. And dude you should have just edited your original character sheet, no need to throw the same crap again. You have the makings of a pretty lousy poster, keep in mind we reserve the right to kill off your character, if you dont come with good writing. (Just work on it alright)

Luther was later given his medication, and tucked down on his bed in his room, where he fell into a deep sleep.
he had nightmares, of creatures, horrible creatures, ripping and tearing at his flesh. torturing every moving part on his body.
and... a woman. a woman getting chopped into little chunks right infront of him. this couldn't be a previous traumatic event because Luther was born and raised inside the vault, noone knows of these nightmares but it could be the cause of Luthers mental Instability. he tossed and turned, screaming out. but nobody came. they just left him there. he cried and cried, tears poured down his face, he was kicking and struggling, he couldnt get out from under the covers. this went on for hours and hours, until eventually he fell into a gentle sleep, and the crying and screaming stopped...

"Gah! Why won't something intresting happen today!" Mark shouted as he flipped through the robots feeds. Then Mark noticed one of the feeds was't responding! " Hey its one of the handys, its assigned to one of the bars I think! Well this is the best excuse I have had to go to a bar in a while, I just hope theres no gang idiots there" said Mark. He then proceeded to strap his pistol onto his hip, grab his trusty wrench and toolkit and walk out of the automated security center.

OOC: When are we going to get to the main story

Edit: some spelling and Grammer errors

OOC: Yeh same here, we need some sort of line to follow.

Josh Head Back To His Apartment Like Area, On His Way He Stops In At The Diner, He Sits At A Table And Uses His Pip-Boy-3000 To Listen To The P.A System, "Same Old [Censored] On This Frequency!" Fiddling with it, he realises his arm is slightly Hurt, "99% Eh? It'll Do." He Lowers His Arm And Then Heads Back To The Apartment, He Enters The Door And Then Locks It Behind Him He Then Enters His Bed And Pulls The Covers Over Him " I feel Oddly Tired, Hmm, I Shouldn't Be Though..." With That He Lowered His Head And Closed His Eyes, Thus - Falling Asleep.

It was hours before Allen got that damned pipe fixed, and he hadn't even been able to find what caused it to bust in the first place. The stink down here was incredible, and Allen's frustration at his inability to find the cause of the rupture only increased when he returned to his locker in the Service Office and found a kid in a leather jacket trying to break into it.
"The gun's not in there," he snarled, "but if you want to get a good look at it, you are headed in the right direction."
The punk didn't need any more warning and was off like a shot. Most of the teenagers in the vault knew that he was a good man, and they had learned not to mess around with him, but there were still a select few that did not want to learn. their numbers were shrinking rapidly with every failed robbery attempt and every broken bone. Allen changed into his Utility jumpsuit, rolled up the sleeves, buckled on his shoulder holster, and made his way down to the place where he stashed his arsenal. There were scratches all around the panel behind which the gun was hidden, but the would-be thief had either given up, or been scared off by a security officer before he could remove the plate. Allen placed the giant pistol lovingly in its holster, and belted his bandoliers around his waist. He would need to find a new place to hide his precious heirlooms, but not tonight. Tonight was not a night to drown himself in yet another bottle. Tonight may yet be the night he could redeem himself for his failure to protect his family all those years ago. Allen walked calmly past some kids he knew to be a part of one of the larger vault gangs; "the Atomic Doctors" or some such thing, sat down at a table at the back of the diner, and lit a cigar.

"Huh" Mark muttered to himself as he fiddled with his PipBoy3000. " Looks like the broken handy is in one of he diners, not a bar. I wonder what caused it to break in a diner?" Mark said as he changed direction to the correct diner. After a few minutes of walking Mark entered the diner and saw the usuall crap. A guy bein tough with his big clunky old peice of crap for a gun getting drunk and smoking at the same time, a bunch of guys trying to get some tail. Mark sighed, he thought people like this were hopeless.
He walked up to the diners counter, set his toolbox on the counter top and said. "Hey, waiter, over here... yes i'm talking to you. Ok now that you're finally here, has your mr. handy been working lately? I noticed in the Automated Security Room that it's live video feed was out. Do you have an explanation or can you point me to some one who would?"
"Nope, nope and nope now if you'll exuse me I have to get back to work" the waitress said
Mark glared angryly at her back as she walked away "people" he muttered " there such idiots"

Allen watched warily as Mark entered the diner and started talking angrily to the waitress. The robot repairman was never well liked in the vault, and lately he seemed over-excited about something. What was going on in his head, Allen wondered.

Tawhiri is having trouble finding the other kids in the Vault and decides to repair the Food Proc himself. He spent an hour of searching and 2 hours of fixng the Proc unit.
At the end of his hours he leaves to get a drink at the bar/place(whats it called?) and relax's for another day of fixing the same old machines and seeing the same old faces. With the same evil look in their eyes.

Gah I don't have time to deal with this [censored]! And this diner svcks, theres nothing interesting happening here, it's no better than staring at that damned screen Mark thought angrily. I suppose if their handy isn't working it would be in the back. If they want to lie about my robot i'm ganna go in there and see whats wrong myself. "Thats another good thing about robots, they don't lie." mark muttered as he picked up his toolbox and started to head towards the back of the diner.

Tom walked into the diner to grab something to eat as he nodded to mark he saw some drunks in the corner. "Can I get some Mash," Said tom.
"Yea,"said to the waitress.
As he gobbled up his mash he wondered why was the robot tech down here. As to explain his thoughts the handy said "Come on down to super duper mart," in unusaully loud whine.
"haha," Thought tom as he got up to throw away his can of mash.
"we'll see ya," Yelled Tom.