It was cold. That's all the survivors could say. This new world, a Vault as they called it, was nothing more than a freezing hell. But at least they wouldn't die by the bombs. Or would they? How could they know?

This was all racing threw the minds of the first ever civilians in Vault 34. But now, in 2234, no-one cared. They were trapped in a small vault with nearly 500 people in it. Children were sleeping on the floor, and riots soon broke out. Food was diminishing. Water was becoming unattainable. They were sure to die if something didn't happen. So the Overseer, one Lydian Burry, had a tough decision. Let the people go, or leave them to die. It was just to much for the old man to bare. Old Lydian Burry died of a heart attack on the 5th of what was called November.

So his son, Maric Burry, took his place. No-one really agreed with this decision. He was only 26, what was he supposed to know about this kind of thing? But they had no say in the matter. His father had left it in his death-wish, and by God they had to abide by it. Maric knew what he wanted, and what the whole Vault wanted. To be free. To be out of this Hell.

And he let them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Ok, so here's the deal:

You can be from the Vault, (Vault 34 or any other) a Wastelander, or from any town.
You can be a Human or Non-Feral Ghoul.
NO Super Mutants.
Rich or Poor, I do not care; but if you're rich, tell me how you got the money. Make me believe it.
No Uberness
Romance is allowed. At all levels.
If I so much as see you have a fat-man, you will have a broken pistol. Do I make myself clear?

Character Sheet:

Name:
six: ( don't even try to put 'yes please')
Age:
Race:
General Look: Eye color, hair color, how tall, that type of thing.
Equipment: Armor, weapons (2 weapons max, unless you're creative with how you carry them)
Other: Whatever you want to put that I don't have here.

The people who choose to be from the Vault will all meet with me, Maric, at the entrance to the Vault. Anyone else will have to run into us.

Please PM me the sheets.

*Male
*Non-feral ghoul
*Eye colour: light blue
*hair colour: N/A
*height: 6ft5in
*Armour: old brotherhood of steel armour no arm plates, sniper w/scope no ammo
*personality: helpful but tough on strangers until well acquainted
*History: previously part of the brotherhood of steel but went into a zone with 4 times the usual amount of radiation and became a Non-feral ghoul keeping the armour but lost the arm plates camped inside nearby cave when vault 34 was opened

*lights cigarette only to have it be put out by the wind*
"damn wind my last match ruined now i gotta go find something else to light this with" *stands up and walks towards cave entrance looking at the vault*
"i wonder when that thing is gonna get opened when it does they will be in for a surprise 2234 still not opened its gonna be a whole new world for them i just hope im around when it opens" *engraves another line in the wall he uses to keep track of the date* wow 4th of .....November its getting dark i better block of the door and go to sleep" *pushes rock towards the entrance and goes to sleep*

Character Sheet:

Name: John Winston
six: Male
Age: 23
Race: Human
General Look: John has an average weight and height. He has short black hair and is fairly attractive.
Equipment: He has a vault 34 armored jumpsuit (much like the armored vault 101 jumpsuit) and he has a hunting rifle and pistol, both with plenty of ammo
Other: He has lived in vault 34 for his whole life only to see most of his friends and family die in the vault an early death

OOC: Erandur when are you going to post when your char. opens the vault? Oh and ayaxe you may want to include your characters name and age.

IC:It was the day before the vault was going to be opened and John was eager to get out. It had been his dream and he had often thought of ways to escape when he was a kid. I can't wait until I'm free and outta' this hell hole, John thought to himself. After moving through a large croud of people in the gathering room he spotted Maric himself. Finally my saviour! As he approached Maric he said, "So what are you going to do when you open the vault? Are you going to stay here or wander the wastelands?" John asked, eagerly awaiting an answer.

Maric looked at John, one of his close friends. "I dunno, man. I'm definitely not staying here. I named Officer Gomez to Overseer. We might outta stay together and find a city. Then we'll go from there, ok?" He waited for an answer as he leaned on the nearby wall. Then he saw her. The most beatiful woman in the whole Vault. Cindy Gomez.

"Umm...Maric?" I need you, now." she said, pointing to the ground. "Hey John, will you excuse me?" Maric really didn't like Cindy's attitude, but he really couldn't help but go. First, he had a crush on her. Second, he lost a bet and had to serve her for a year. Damn baseball game... he thought, making his way over.

"Yeah, Cindy. What do you need?" he asked.

"Well....I was just wondering. Where are you going when you open the vault?"

"I dunno...I'm gonna follow John."

"I wanna go."

"Oh no, Cindy. It's WAY to dangerous for you."

"Whatever, ass. I didn't want to go anyway." She then smacked him on the face, thinking that he meant to insult her.

"Sorry about that John. Now what were we saying?" he said, rubbing his now sore cheek.

"Yeah, you're right, we should definetely try and find a city, it might take a us a couple days or more to find one though. Me might have to make camp a couple times so we may want to bring us a tent or two. And I don't mind if Cindy comes with us, as long as she defends herself and doesn't become a burden. I'm going to go to sleep, so tomorrow can come faster. Good night." he said as he departed Maric and went off to his small cramped bed.

Name: Lee Downey
six: ( don't even try to put 'yes please') Male
Age: 210
Race: Ghoul
General Look: Eye color, hair color, how tall, that type of thing: Brown eyes, grey bits of hair, 6'3", very strong
Equipment: Armor, weapons (2 weapons max, unless you're creative with how you carry them): Mossberg 500, 10mm silenced pistol
Other: Whatever you want to put that I don't have here: Rich, very, very rich. Lee had a thriving crime industry in the wastelands. He began a slaver career, and is responcable for the enslavement of over 5,000 people. He also has a reputation of ruthlessness, as he will slaughter on site. After a wealthy man found a large sKyscraqer intact, and began to rent the rooms, Lee stormed in, and murdered all, so now he has a place to crash and he has over 100,000 caps from all his crime, and 50,000 at least in pre-war money. Now him and roughly over 200 other people live in the building he murdered everybody in, and they have fortified it, and allow anyone who is non-hostile in, being ghouls, humans, super mutants, dogs, etc.

((Sorry))

OOC: I said to PM me, but what the hell. You use proper punctuation and grammar. You're good to go.

IC: "Alright man, sleep well. Tommorrow is gonna be one helleva ride!" Maric half yelled as his friend walked away. Then he realized something. They might not have Purified water out in the wastes. I'll just take enough for a week he thought as he entered the armory. He went to the broken little refrigerator and took out about 15 waters.

Then he looked to his left. He saw his dad's old Chinese Assault rifle and some clips. He picked them up and tried to figure out how to use this thing. He gave up mid-way and decided to learn later. I gotta get James a weapon too, just in case he thought as he picked up a 10mm pistol and ammo.

"Off to bed" he told himself as he laid down on his comfortable queen size bed. It was to be his last good sleep.

"Pop goes the weasel." Cira whispered to herself as she pulled the trigger on a stray Centaur about 50 yards away, the bullet hitting the Centaur in its chest and knocking it over with a bit of force. Cira sighed to herself, Headshots woman! she thought to herself as she slung her rifle to her back and began walking towards a far away rock formation. Life is good... Cira's mind wandered as the sky grew dimmer, the sun invisible behind the large clouds of radioactive something. No rules except my own., she stopped and looked into her reflection on a pool of radioactive water Life is good.

An hour past and she eventually reached the rock formation, it was at least 50 meters tall and a couple hundred wide. Cira took her rifle off her back and held in her hand while she walked along the formation, feeling the rock. She found a small nook where she could crawl in an did so, setting her rifle down beside her and drifting off in sleep.

Von was not pleased. He had spent the night in an animal cesspool in a desperate attempt to shake some raiders who had been tailing him for the last week. The sweat and bodily waste had plagued his senses all night, and still did. Luckily, he had not been noticed. He was still dirty, filth caked to one side of his face and in-between the joints of his armor. Too tired to care, he lay in a nearby stream, letting the greenish water flow over him. He sighed, and let himself fall asleep.

Cira woke in the middle of the night, she was burning hot. She wiped the perspiration of her forehead, panting and tired she grabbed her rifle and held it close to her. She began to move towards exit and she would have escaped to if a grenade hadn't landed a couple of meters away from entrance of the nook.

Quickly, Cira threw her rifle back and huddled into a fetal position, the grenade igniting and sending a few pieces of shrapnel in her direction. Time seemed slow as shrapnel bounced off the rock wall, creating beautiful, deadly sparks like fireworks. A single piece of shrapnel ricocheted off the wall on the right side of Cira, ripping through her jacket and planting itself in her shoulder. Time began running slowly again and Cira screamed, putting a hand over her newly acquired wound.

There was distant laughing, the evil kind, and the distant laughing got even more distant. "F***ing Raiders!" she screamed towards the exit, "My arm!" Cira lifted her hand to see it was slightly covered in blood. She took off her jacket, throwing it on the ground beside her. Cira sat down on her behind, taking off her undershirt and grabbing a sharp looking rock. She began cutting a couple inches off the bottom of her undershirt for a bandage. Once she successfully did that, she put the undershirt back on and started tending her her wound. Tightly tying the make-shift bandage around the affected area. Cira winced as she did this, she needed to find medical attention ASAP.

Cira put her coat back on and grabbed her rifle, crawling out of the nook and out into the dark wasteland. Towards a small body of body of water in the distance.

Von had blurred in and out of sleep for the last few hours. Occasionally the water would whip over his nose and he'd get the most wonderful drowning sensation. Again, at the time, he was too tired to care. When he finally came back to reality, he slowly drudge and drug himself upright. "Time to inspect the damages..." he mumbled to himself, still not quite wide-awake. His armor was clean, but he feared it might rust. His body seemingly gave off a faint glow, probably from laying in the stream.

"Shi'..."

He moved toward a dense group of trees leaning over the streams narrow banks, their dark dead limbs almost touching the swift waters. He began to pull branches, to his infinite luck, dry ones. He had already removed his armor and weapons, laying them down next to a dry spot very near the stream. He was just about to kindle a fire when he heard shouts and pattering feet. He dropped to his stomach, head-planting his face in the dirt. A few eternal minutes later, he dared to bring his good eye up and take a peek. Quickly, he scanned the area.

But there was only leaves and trees, a small stream, and the soft echo of the wind.

She walked for what seemed like painful hours. Every step as agonizing as the next, she was tired from lack of sleep and weak from her wound. Cira didn't pay much attention to the area in front of her, just making sure that she didn't collapse and drift off into a vulnerable sleep. Light could be seen on the eastern horizon, making it seem like the promised land was not too far away. "Daybreak." Cira told herself, she felt water surrounding her boots. In her tired stumble, she managed to end up ankle deep in a creek. Cira fell to her knees, removing her hand from the wound and splashing water on her face. She didn't care how irradiated it was, no different from eating some of that Blamco s*** that she found in the abandoned pre-war houses. "No different." Cira reassured her self, even drinking a bit of the water. The nearby trees (if you could call them that) rustled, a side-effect of the warm breezes that kicked up the dry wasteland dust.

He had eaten cold that night, to weary of raiders to make a fire. He slept little, but rather had scouted the surrounding area most of the night. He loved the night.

Although it was hell on Earth, the universe seemed at peace. Sometimes, he just liked to lay back and look at the stars, and even the occasional shooting-star. There were some days the stars did not appear, however, for the dust and ash still littered the air. He often delighted over the fact that, at some point in time, this world had been full of life and nature. Not those grotesque abominations called 'animals', but furry, happy creatures. Not these rotting sorry excuses for trees, that smelled of ash and death. No, there had been whole forests full of life. But not now. Not ever, ever again.

Von had moved back to camp just as the sun began to rise. He said his goodbye's to the Moon and the stars, as he watched them slowly fade away...

He wanted to disappear into the night. Just like the stars.

He heard noises farther along upstream.

He wished it were so easy.

Cira fell on her side, tearing up from the stress of being so tired and helpless. She remembered many things around these dark times, the people whose lives she made even darker than they already were. Was this her punishment? "Maybe there really is a God." she chuckled to herself as she clawed at the bottom of the creek. Cira's vision faded to black and she succumbed to a dark unconsciousness.

Von had been drudging through a muddy bank for fifteen minutes before he saw the body. He lifted her from the water and carried her to land, softly laying her down in the dirt. Dressed in a brown raincoat and trousers, her hair was drenched dark red and was shaved on one side. She subconsciously gripped her weapon, an M1 Carbine, and refused to let it go. He inspected her for injury, and was nearly through when he noticed a tear in her coat.

"Ouch."

She had a nasty shrapnel wound on her shoulder, probably from a mine or a grenade. He kindled a fire in an attempt to dry her off, the early morning sun not yet out enough to do so. He wanted to search her for a knife, or perhaps a needle, that he could heat and use to tend to her wound.

But he didn't.

Von pulled his Powerfist on, and waited for her to awake, occasionally pouring water in her mouth whenever her lips looked dry.

Because you can never be too careful.

An hour passed without a sound from the woman. Inside her head, many things were happening. She reviewed her life from the safety of inside her head.

She was born into this world in a small wasteland hamlet called Steeltown, which was located in the greater DC area. It was made of remains of a derailed train, there were huts, merchants, food, and clean water and everything was just dandy. But, as with any wasteland town, it had a bit of a raider problem. A clan had taken up camp at the station just down the tracks and they had a weekly raid which usually would fail. Usually.

Around the age of 14, the raiders had managed to break Steeltown's defense, leaving the civilians open to their rampaging craziness. They all the men and women who fought back and enslaved the ones who didn't. Among the enslaved was Cira Arik.

She was 18 at the time of her purchase. Years of trading and agonizing labour led Cira to work for a Raider Clan Leader who only went by The Ringmaster. He was a fat, perverted, twisted man and often drafted Cira to do things that weren't what she was planning to do with her life.

Forward to age 25, after years of service as a slave to The Ringmaster and his Carnies she was offered to join the ranks of the Raiders as a sniper in The Ringmaster's game which he played with people who happened upon his carnival.

Age 26, after spending a year blowing people's skulls clean off their neck. The Ringmaster brought in a group of traveling orphans, their were all tied together like a bundle of sticks and were placed in center of the courtyard. Some were crying, scared for their lives and others gave angry looks to all of the surrounding raiders. The Ringmaster chuckled evilly and pulled a big stack of cards from his pocket. He cleared his throat and announced, "What were the first three states admitted to the union after the original 13?". The Ringmaster looked down at the children, a large toothy grin crossing his face. A kid began absolutely bawling, realizing that he was most likely finished. The Ringmaster looked around angrily, "No answer?" he growled and ripped the radio from his belt. "Kill them, woman", he looked up on top of the canyon towards the nest set-up where Cira watched over. Cira aimed through her scope, perfecting her aim on the Ringmaster's head. The ringmaster growled once again, "Cira! I said shoo-". Coincidentally, that was the same day that Cira ended her career as a raider.

Back in real life, Cira stirred from her sleep, She groaned loudly and lazily opened and eye, her sight first being that of a strange man.

He saw here stir, and open an eye- right on him. He stayed put, waiting for her to make a move.

"I'm a friend." Von spoke softly, keeping his eyes trained on her rifle.

Cira opened her second eye, lazily looking back up at Von. Surprised by his presence, she tried to push herself back up quickly with her right arm but immediately fell back, dropping her rifle and her shoulder again. "Ow!" Cira yelled, rolling a bit "What are you doing? Who are you?" she spoke out loudly. Cira squinted and groaned in pain, she had a migraine and her whole body ached... The wasteland was cold.

"Ow!" Cira yelled, rolling a bit "What are you doing? Who are you?" she spoke out loudly.

Von raised an eyebrow. Her manners were sub-par, but it seemed she meant him no harm. Now, maybe he could make some progress, and be done with this.

"My name is Vondreil, and I..." he stood, "...am trying to help."

She obviously had not exactly come to yet, but he took his chances and slid off his weapon to come in for a closer look.

"You have shrapnel in your right shoulder, and unless you let me get a good look at it, you could be looking at infection and possible amputation."

Von barely knew what an infection was, nor how to treat it. He wasn't medically savvy, per se. He had been injured enough himself to know a bit about how to treat these sort of wounds... not as efficient as say, a doctor, but in a time of need...

"Do you have a knife?"

Cira clenched her teeth as she managed to sit herself up. Her vision blurred for a moment then came back in a flash.

She shook her head quickly, then looked over to him "What a relief." she spoke quietly. "No knife.", Cira shook her head again, "An amputation? Thats not going to work out well for me. Is there no town or camp nearby?"

Cira could not stand that thought of being an amputee, so helpless, so adventure-less. She was a slave for a big chunk of her life and she wants those years back.

"Oh, i'm Cira... Some raiders thought it would be funny to drop a grenade in front of the cave of was sleeping in..."

"Oh, i'm Cira... Some raiders thought it would be funny to drop a grenade in front of the cave of was sleeping in..."

Von couldn't help but laugh a little, she took the situation so lightly.

"Yeah, I know what cha' mean..." Von stopped and looked around, as if he could see through trees. "No towns that I know of..."

He looked back at her, shrugged. "I can try and scout ahead, but if we can't do anything about that wound, we'd better clean it and rap it." he said, tugging at a clean piece of cloth he kept rapped around his wrists, tossing it to her.

"I'm going to see if I can heat some water." and with that, he began back to his original camp to grab his equipment.

John awoke. He got up off of his hay mat and looked around. Almost everyone had a smile on their face. Today was the day they were going to be set free. He grabbed his hunting rifle and slid his pistol in his holster and made his way to people were waiting in a huge crowd. I guess Maric is going to give some kind of huge speech. John stood and waited... waited for his freedom.

Cira nodded to Von as he left, taking to examine the damage once more. She was still a bit weary but feeling a lot better now that she had time to rest. The cloth that she had wrapped around the wound was stained and crusted with blood. Cira began slowly untying the cloth, wincing as she uncovered the wounds. Under the wrap, the blood had been smeared over the surrounding skin, making the wound seem more gruesome and deadly. Cira crawled over to the stream, dipping the old cloth in the water and cleaning away some of the blood. Cira sat by the river, waiting for Von to come back with the warm water to properly clean out any infection.

After filling his water skin and heating it over his dying fire, Von grabbed the rest of his stuff and headed back. He had found a syringe with some Med-X, a mild dose, just for the pain. He began to search his memory for any signs of civilization he may have overlooked before.

I have to find a way to remove the shrapnel, there may be serrated wire in her wound, and the sh*t hits the fan if it closes up around it...

Well, that would depend on her proximity to the grenade during the explosion. He didn't see any signs or traces of contact with incendiary materials...

If it was only bits of casing, then we wouldn't have to operate immediately... theoretically, she could live the rest of her life without removing it.

"Hmph..."

"Lets worry about infection for now..."

He could just now see Cira laying down where he left her...