[Emily Jeffs]

Bob Dobbs

Tropical Room – Evening

"Is that what you wanted? The man asked. He shrugged and nonchalantly pulled out the pistol and released the magazine into the other hand. After putting the pistol down, he ejected each round from the magazine and lined them up in a row in the table in front of him. “Nothing interesting, with the last time I fired this thing, it may just be a set piece at this point, I'm more of a talker than a fighter. It's been three years since I fired this thing."

As soon as he ejected the first round it was clear to both Bob and Monroe his weapon was chambered for .45, not 10mm. Monroe picked up a round anyway, idly looking at the headstamp then handed it to Bob. Bob noted the headstamp was marked “GR - .45 Auto”. He then placed it next to the others.

“The shooter”, Bob said, “Used a 10mm, so that pretty much rules you out….which doesn’t surprise me, really. The nature of the crime was rather…amateurish. Not the sort of thing a man who would spend days renovating a place such as this would be likely to do”.

The man scratched his nose a little, looking at Bob and Monroe with slight interest.

"As for the Enclave, well, clearly you have never been inside that glorified tower of ego”, he said. “A nice place to relax in luxury, but, well, it lives in its own bubble of ignorance. Music plays, kind of like GNR, but without the news feeds. It's a method to ensure no 'troubling news' hits. Not as nice as Vegas, but, well, it's nice enough for these parts. Plus, the Enclave is long dead where I'm from, so it is a surprise to hear they're 'alive'."

“I take it you’re from the NCR, then?”, asked Bob. “I’ve heard Brotherhood types and the occasional wanderer from out West talk of a war with the Enclave about forty years ago or so. I’ve heard they started with radio broadcasts around here about twenty years ago, shortly before the Brotherhood arrived. Last year, they came out of wherever they were hiding and attacked a water purifier project the Brotherhood was working on. Unfortunately for them, the Brotherhood also had some giant war robot they found under the Citadel….before the war they called it the Pentagon or something. The war went on for nearly a year, in the end the Brotherhood won even though the Enclave managed to destroy the robot somehow. Until yesterday, we though they were wiped out. As it was, we managed to hold them off…at the cost of a third of the town’s population killed.”

Monroe finished his glass and put it down on the table.

“I appreciate the hospitality, and thank you for the drink, Mr….”, Monroe paused, once prompted his name continued, “…Mieux? But there is a gunman on the loose in town, and we need to get back to looking for him. We’ll make sure people know you’re not involved with that incident.”

[LuBiE LoU]

Justin raised an eyebrow and didnt speak, the look in his olive green eyes one of careful processing, "NCR? No. Vault City, well, they're the same thing now, but I don't like to identify with NCR, to big for it's own good. But, I won't get into politics. But no, I like to think I come from New Vegas. When I'd left New Vegas, it was a couple months after a man named Mr. House came out of an old casino called 'The Lucky 38'. When he'd come out, I was just an educated person, wandering with the Followers of the Apocalypse, teaching Pre-War history to those interested. But I dropped the Follower monicker when Mr. House brought Vegas to life, not long after he came out of the tower, the old Las Vegas strip was brought to life. I don't know what's become of Vegas since, but I like to think him and his police robots and tribes have brought back the spirit of Las Vegas." He then snapped back to reality and spoke up a moment, "If you don't understand half of what I've said, to put it in short, I was an educated guy, something along the lines of what the Pre-War world could call a Professor, but I fell in love with Las Vegas when Mr. House, the same man, I assume, who founded RobCo."

Miuex shrugged off his rambling as though it had never happened. Adjusting himself in the cushioned leather padded chair, he took a deep drink of his wine and said contemplatively. "You know, if you have someone with the tech know how, you could construct a high powered EMP/Pulse frying machine. It could fry power armor if done right, or so goes the theory. I read about it in an old magazine, but it was just an article on a rumoured USAF expirimental weapon, not a schematic. Anyway, I'm a man who knows about the history just before the Great War, so science isn't exactly my 'forte'." Watching the two men as they got up, he stopped them by speaking up, "You know, if the town ever needs a place to go, this place is always here, seeing as it's my private property, and huge, it makes a good fort. should the town ever need it." Putting his hands in his pockets, he pulled out a bag of caps and threw them gently to Monroe, "Give those to the man who was shot, give him my well wishes. At least, I hope he's alive, as you said shot, not 'killed'. If he died, well, I'm sure you'll find a good place to put those caps to use, better than me hoarding them like a miser."

[Laura Wilson]

Edward Conagher - Tropical Room – Evening

Edward had been oddly quite whilst other three men talked; in truth he knew very little about this “NCR” or this Mr house so simply listened into what they said. He was also thinking about what bob had said about the shooter being amateurish and confirming the calibre size…

If the shooting was amateurish its means the person was either rushing it, perhaps possibly drunk or they don’t have much skill with
guns…. Probably not a Enclave survivor then… Who uses a 10mm pistol in town? That will the easiest way of narrowing down suspects, along with those inside tent at the time.

Although they still might be a hired gun, with the talon company battling the brotherhood, they might have had to hire an amateur…

Taking another puff of his cigarette Edward turned back to guys conversation, Justin was talking about some EMP device “I read about it in an old magazine, but it was just an article on a rumoured USAF experimental weapon, not a schematic. Anyway, I'm a man who knows about the history just before the Great War, so science isn't exactly my 'forte'.

“Are you taking about a pulse rifle? I remember having one once although I think I traded it for my plasma defender, didn’t really use it much but don’t Pulse grenades petty much do the same job?” Edward said…

Bob and Monroe then got up but were stopped by Justin. , "You know, if the town ever needs a place to go, this place is always here, seeing as it's my private property, and huge, it makes a good fort. should the town ever need it."

“That might be useful if the town is attacked again” Edward said “although lets pray to god it doesn't happen again..."

Justin put his hand into his pocket and pulled out a bag of caps, throwing them to Monroe, "Give those to the man who was shot, give him my well wishes. At least, I hope he's alive, as you said shot, not 'killed'. If he died, well, I'm sure you'll find a good place to put those caps to use, better than me hoarding them like a miser."

“James is okay; he’s lost a lot of blood but should be fine. I’m actually going to visit him now so I can give so caps to him.” Edward said as he stood up himself. “Actually speaking of James Wilson, did you know him Justin? Did he ever go to tennpenny tower?” Edward said…

“Caucasian Male in his early 30’s, about 6’5 with short black hair & blue eyes, also runs the town gun store. Oh and he has an odd accent... not sure where he’s form” Edward said trying to describe James.

He then turned to bob and Monroe “I was thinking, if the attacker is a Hired gun, who outside of town would hire one? “ Edward said….

------------

OOC: It’s up to Martyr if Justin saw, spoke or did business with James but he did indeed do business with tennpenny tower, the last time he visited was roughly two months ago(from this RP day) were he sold several guns to Gustavo, he had been there several dozen times before that as well.

He also wore his somewhat unique blue combat armour when on Business and travelled with several mercs including a mute woman (Sue) so sort of stood out from the average caravan.

Spoiler

-There was no problems between James and tennpenny tower, so unless tick tells me to edit this out, tennpenny didn't hire the attacker...

tagged as it contains slighty spoiler/clears a group from investagation.

[brenden casey]

Mieux furrowed his eyes and looked at the floor, looking in his mind at the people he'd seen. "Hmmm, James Wilson? No, can't say I did, then again, I didn't exactly interact with the citizens, mostly pompous morons living off inherited wealth. I spent most of my time living in an old penthouse apartment, reading old books, listening to Pre-War music, watching holotapes. I still technically 'live' there, this is more a business venture." Taking the caps from Monroe with kindness, he handed them to Edward, "There's two hundred caps in this bag Mr. Conagher, please see to it every last one is spent on the mans recouperation and medical supplies." Walking to a lit stairwell, and turning, oh, and one last thing gentlemen, I suggest inviting the town here, tonight's the opening gala. I'm getting a Protectron online as well. Of course, it'd really help if you could find a beautiful little bird to flutter in here, send her my way. Always nice to have someone human pretty as a picture serving you your drink.." He smirked his usual smug smirk and walked upstairs to his office in the third floor.

Sitting at his desk, he started to slowly type out a map of town, as best he could make out of the ruins from his third floor corner office. Picking up the microphone beside his desk, he spoke into it, recording an audio log. "I can't remember the date, as here in the savage backwoods that is 'The Capital Wasteland', what was once Washington D.C., I'm living in the old 'Tropical Room' club, turned it back to something proper, minimal structure damage, mostly neglect by time. But the people here." Mieux snorted a bit, "It's like a borderline tribal region. They live in old Pre-War structures, minimal if any power, and just exist day to day. An old hotel, Tenpenny Tower as it's called now, is the only bastion of PROPER life of what was America. Sadly they're just stuck up snobby misers of money and greed. If they were willing to share their knowledge of using Pre-War Metros to tap power from those grids, it could put a spark in old dead neighbourhoods. But enough about them, the people I met, after firing off my flare gun, seemd alright. They were obviously nervous what was going on, seeing as I snuck into town. However, it reminds me of the many simpleton settlements places in the Wastes frontiers. They're simple, honest, and look out for one another. I think Tenpenny's put me far to use to luxury, and dulled my human courtesies. I think I'll keep my residence at Tenpenny, but I think I'll spend most of my time here from now on. Justin Mieux, exit log." He shut off the microphone and tapped a key on the old RobCo terminal, shutting it down, and went to his bedroom to put on his tuxedo and wash redo his hair to ensure it was slick and clean, in prepration of the hopefully large crowd that may or may not come.

[Elea Rossi]

-Aubrey
--Grayditch, Nearby Tap's Tent

The guy seemed to know his stuff - or, at least, a lot about bullet casings. Aubrey knew a good deal, as someone who had used guns for most of her life with joy and interest, but his knowledge was impressive. It wasn't quite something she'd expect from a Wastelander. They seemed to surprise her a good once in a while.

He went on to respond about one of the victims of the two stray bullets. “Let me guess, the guy who smells like he took a bath in fresh brahmin [censored]? If I were you, I’d stay clear of him…I suspect he’s a chem head”, Monroe added.

The tall, long stick of a girl cut off a loud, brief laugh. "Well, it would fit his huge delay in reaction," then she gave a loose shrug, a little more at ease that second, "I don't care too much about who uses drugs. Or if they're addicted - I've seen a number of people like that, before."
Albeit they didn't usually seem quite so insane or eccentric.
"Their choice to use drugs, maybe screw up their body, if they want. Doesn't really upset me."

When she asked his name, he gave a pretty fair, believable reply - Aubrey's blue-green eyes didn't seem to catch any hints of a lie or the like.

“Got here a couple days ago”, the newcomer said. “My name is Monroe…I work for Linda.”. Bob pointed in the direction of the shop. “She just bought the clothes shop over on the next block, from some guy named Jimmy Johnson. She’s a tailor by trade, and a pretty good one. You ought to stop by if you need clothes or alterations."

"Advertising for your employer, there?" a subtly smooth, loose tone in her voice suggested she was teasing, before moving on, "Nah, 'less I get my vault suit ripped I'm just fine. Nice to meet ya, Monroe."

Monroe looked her up and down, which was odd...was he summing her up, or something? He looked to what turned out to be Dobbs, now wearing an old police flak vest and carrying a Chinese Assault Rifle, and was heading towards him. Other men were coming down the road from the direction of the Rose. Aubrey didn't believe she recognized them, and peered carefully toward their direction for a moment - being interrupted in thought when Monroe piped up:

“So what’s your name, kid?”

"Ag-" she urgently caught herself and quieted the exasperated groan, before letting go with a sigh instead, "Suppose everyone's gonna ask me that, can't avoid it."
"It's a long story that I don't feel like explaining. Everyone, now, calls me 'Clark' 'round here...It's not, technically, my actual name; not sure if I'm gonna keep goin' by it."

As if she was simply distracted by the murder scene, her eyes dropped to try to trace the pathway of the footprints. Her real name was practically ready to burst past the gates of her lips, and she - on a snap - felt extremely conscious of her mouth. She gave a half-laugh, that didn't sound completely convincing, before giving up, "Ah, [censored] it. I'm probably leavin' real soon anyhow."
Her feet slightly favored Monroe's direction, and her eyes darted back up to him with a grin - also less than convincing - "My "name" is, was, Aubrey."
She joked, a sarcastic edge to her voice, "Thinkin' of changing it though." 'Again.'

"Call me what you want. I'm not gonna bother caring, right now."

The man seemed, possibly, slightly amused or surprised, but Aubrey didn't pay him enough attention to really examine him that time. He moved on to the issue at hand, the one she would rather worry about, “Let’s find those other two cases then see if we can find that [censored]head.”

"Yeah, sure. Just let me see if I can make a more specific direction of where that [censored]head went."
It took a little while, but she picked up on the line of footsteps - prints wider apart than when they had been where the criminal had stood. As she was near done, the other group began discussing things, something about going Southwest.

"Well, uh, they might not have? Not sure, though. I'll....go check the other way. They might be more east than that."

When the group left, Clark found the footsteps, and she swore it was far more directly South. Not that a vague set of footprints - maybe even ones that she had mistaken for the culprit, when they were now someone else's instead - guaranteed anything of any sort. It was still worth a look, maybe-

Her body shuddered violently, her back cranking downward to hunch defensively, at the sight of who was coming from the very direction she had been headed for. Her breath gasped sporadically and shallow, unable to pace itself as she gawked at the scene dumbly.

"No, oh G-od," she gave a near mute, cracked squeak - something Aubrey didn't think she had ever done before, even in her most recent and most undignified of moments. Her stomach turned more viciously than ever before, and a violently trembling hand took a shaky hold of her flat belly. Her teeth gnashed against each other enough to crack. Her eyes darted rapidly about as she watched them near, in a hurried walk, searching.

They were walking, with some little girl - just in front - in a yellow dress.

'They...they did it, didn't they?'
What would they do with her, to her? Kill her? Who was she kidding - what else would they ever do?
If she ran, they wouldn't catch her - Hell, they might not even learn she ever was there, just yet.
Then she suddenly stiffened, dizzy from a thought: If she ran, and she was right, they'd all try to blaze through the rest of the town. They'd kill more people, now or later, and they would have no problems with it. And she would have let it all happen. That little girl would be dead with a bullet to the brain - if they were nice.

This was it. She was going to die. She was going to die.
'Guess I'm leaving town for sure, now.'

Her hand whipped to that sad 10 mm pistol, nothing remotely enough for a whole group of armored people and whatever excess weaponry they had. She pulled it out, just barely lowered from aim.

"What are you doing here?" An almost stoic, sharp voice. Aubrey managed to avoid any quiver, by some miracle, but her knees still wobbled and threatened to give.

"Not gonna shoot us, too, are ya?" An older girl, with piercings about her famously pretty face and stylistically uneven hair dyed a fiercely deep red, gave a challenging, daring smirk. She was the only one in Wastelander clothing, only far less worn, more modern, and more immodest to flatter all that cleavage. "I'd think you'd learn better."

Aubrey's grip tightened, and she pushed her pistol just a tad higher, "You all should be back at the vault. What, change your mind? Think I should be dead now?"

"I found 'em down, is it South of here? I think. They had me come with 'em, wanted me to show 'em the way here - to the party!" interrupted a cheery, naive voice. It was the little girl, in a washed but roughened-up, paled yellow dress and the pre-war fluffy brown hair. With wondering, puppy-dog-big-type eyes, and a cutesy smile, she asked, "Do you known 'em all, miss?"

Aubrey looked to her, and couldn't repress a grimace that seemed to make the child's brightness falter, "As much as I could, growing up in the same place."
"I didn't know you're a vault dweller!" an excited gasp.

"Aubrey, what's the probl-"

"Shut up." The exile growled at a painfully familiar face. It was a man. "You don't get to talk. You or her."
With those perceptive eyes piercing fleeting glare through the other woman in the sick little team, he quieted in shock. He had expected a warm, desperate welcome saturated with affection. He was about a week late. 'They all expect me to beg, don't they? Ain't [censored]in' happening.

"The gov. finally caved to all the stupid [censored] of near half the vault, decided we should send out a little squad and see if there's anything worth a second of our time." A strong voice, laced with hate, spitefully explained, "Decided we'd see if you have anything, if we found you. Unfortunately, we did."

"You don't deserve the gift of so much as hearing news of home again. In fact, you should be dead right now. Didn't get the memo, traitor?"

Aubrey felt her heart stomp more heavily, as if inflating inside its cage - ready to split the bones or pop. She also felt the jagged movement of her feet edging just enough that the aim fell near his head. "You hate everything about the Wasteland," then in a mockingly high-pitched voice of sarcastic respect, that exaggerated the i's into e's, "'Mr. Pini'," before she forced herself to shut down her emotions again, "Why are you here?"

"Unlike you, I stand by our vault. It has never been wrong since our glorious rebellion. Even if I don't agree with it, I'll support our great home any moment it needs me. As Head of Security, I'm more than able to handle issues of defense."

A twenty-five year old man muttered something in anger, something along the lines of "more like handling....'kill, now?'"
It was Hadley. Chiro Pini looked ready to snap the guy's neck, while the two next to him heard and made expressions of varying disapproval and emotion. Of who, Aubrey wasn't positive, but at least the haughty red-head glanced to the security man at the thought - she probably wasn't thinking of chiding Hadley, there.

..She was going to die.

It took a lot more to sum up enough effort to order, solemn and without fear, "You give that girl over here, right now, and leave. You don't belong here. And you're not staying."

The girl pressed her short mouth pressed her full, red lips in offense and put her hands on her pretty itty-bitty wittle waist - with fancy belt and all - and widened the gap between her feet - trying to play big and intimidating. Loudly, brazenly said, "Whatcha gonna do to make us, Aubrey?"

"Well, party-girl, I thought you guessed that already."

"Dear God," Mr. Pini practically sputtered, disgusted, "She's fallen for the locals, hasn't she? You're not just a traitor, you're a real twisted, sick piece of trash. We should have killed you."

Could she do this? She'd never killed anyone. She hadn't ever meant to shoot anyone. She knew her guns, but that didn't mean she had used them for real.
She had to..she surely had to.

She was alone, she was going to die.

"I'll kill your muscle first, I'll hit it through his eye," she made a more confident, definite aim just so, "Then I'll kill you, little Biddy, then oh-so-smart Hadley, and then you two old [censored]s - you [censored] watch me. You threw me in the Wasteland - so, guess what? I've got nothing holdin' me back anymore!"

"The girl, your asses out of here. RIGHT NOW. Or you're all dead in a minute."

A movement in the shadow caught her eye, and she paused in surprise, some others were nearby, she could see them in the clouded dark. Were they....were they sneaking?
She forced her eyes, no longer quite a determined glare, usher themselves back to the group - so as not to drag attention.

Mr. Pini had a gun to the little girl's head.

[Liv Brown]

Calypso and Lexy - By the east entrance - Evening

Calypso and Lexy stuck to the shadows cast by the moonlight, proceeding towards the east entrance of town, cautious and alert. A bright reddish light suddenly threatened to pierce the moon, Lexy brought her rifle up to her shoulder with trained efficiency. “Jesús, ?qué co?o ?qué fue eso?”

Calypso looked south quickly also, the light was brief, and much too far away for them to get there in a timely manner. They both waited to hear an explosion, but the air remained silent. Lexy peered through her night vision scope mounted on her beloved sniper rifle. “I don’t see anything out of the norm Calypso, a few people at the tent still, some others wandering about.”

“Very well dear, let us continue our hunt, shall we?” Calypso bowed forward slightly, Lexy flashed a grin ad began walking once more. They rounded some rubble when they could hear a young woman’s voice; Lexy returned the rifle to her shoulder.

“It’s that kid from the tent, the one who was pissed at Mr. Wilson,” Lexy followed Clark’s line of sight, and aim, to see several figures along with Tracy, “I have five possible hostiles,” Lexy pulled her eye from the scope and looked at Calypso, “They have the little girl in the yellow dress from the party. I can take out two if I get in the right position?”

Calypso waved her hand, “Sounds like they are arguing about a vault. Do not shoot love,” Calypso watched, she was sure none of them had seen them. “Alexis dear, would you be so kind as to cover me, I wish to intervene.”

“Are you loco? You have a sword, they have guns!!” Lexy replied in disbelief.

“Did you not witness the slaughter by the overpass?” asked Calypso nonchalantly.

“Well…yes, but we had more men with us,” Lexy answered.

“I am blessed to be The Jaded Emperor’s judge in this repulsive land, I possess more than ample skills to steal these annoyances souls. Do as I say, or there will be repercussions for your failure to follow my orders.” Calypso spoke sternly.

“Alright, I will cover your ass then, don’t say I didn’t warn you though… boss,” Lexy shook her head.

Calypso shot a sinister sneer back at Lexy; she drew her short sword in her left hand and walked to the bickering group. She had the shiskebob’s blade pressed to her right side under her arm, with the darkness; it blended in with her leather armor. As Calypso closed in, she was able to better make out the words being exchanged.

"Dear God," One man sputtered in utter disgust, "She's fallen for the locals, hasn't she? You're not just a traitor; you're a real twisted, sick piece of trash. We should have killed you."

"I'll kill your muscle first, I'll hit it through his eye," Clark shot back, "Then I'll kill you, little Biddy, then oh-so-smart Hadley, and then you two old [censored]s - you [censored] watch me. You threw me in the Wasteland - so, guess what? I've got nothing holdin' me back anymore!"

Well played love, well played indeed, smiled Calypso

"The girl, your asses out of here. RIGHT NOW. Or you're all dead in a minute." Clark burst, Calypso cocked her head as she may have noticed her approaching.

Calypso started twirling her short sword as she walked casually up to the group, “Well well well, did you find the party crashers love?” Calypso stepped closer to Clark, she revealed her shiskebob and lit it up, “A twisted, sick piece of trash, I do believe is what you said, is it not?”

One of the men quickly took aim at Calypso; she raised her arm and whistled, pointing by the man’s feet. Lexy responded by shooting less than two inches from the man’s foot, “Please allow to me to introduce myself, I am Calypso, and this,” she waved her sword, “Is my town, and you have disrupted our celebration. For that infuriates me greatly. “I do believe in prewar times, trash was kept in tin cans. Enlighten me, if you refer to us as trash, how can that be when we face the struggles of day to day life in this place, but you live in a…tin can?”

Calypso stepped forward boldly, “I have my snipers in position, the rest of my mercs will arrive shortly. If it is blood that you lust for, I am more than please to accommodate your request. But it seems as though you are pressing a pistol to my friend’s daughter, this displeases me very much.”

Swick and Hart approached, “You OK boss?”

"It seems as though we have located the nuisances," Calypso turned back to the dwellers and raised her eyebrow, “Let this be between advlts, let the child go…NOW!!” her face twisted in anger.

[Kevan Olson]

Aaron Blades-Gun Shop-Evening

Aaron looked at Barry awaiting a response, only to hear Calypso shout, "It seems as though we have located the nuisances," Calypso turned back to the dwellers and raised her eyebrow, “Let this be between advlts, let the child go…NOW!!” Her face twisted in anger.

"What the [censored] is going on?" Aaron said, his vision clearing and his thought returning, "[censored] this, I'm checking that out." Aaron pulled out his 44. Magnum and ran towards the sound of Calypso voice. Only to find a hostage situation, complete with the little girl from the party being the hostage. "What the [censored]? Calypso, who the hell are these guys? What the [censored] is going on? Let the girl go, I don't know why you even have her as a hostage, she's not even older then 13! Let's just put down the guns and let the girl go. Come on.

[Amanda Furtado]

James Wilson- Night

Getting out of his bed James walked over the cupboard and began looking at the clothes inside. Apart from what he was wearing, his combat armour and a Grey suit all of James clothes had been burned or Lost within the destruction on his old house.

Luckily however the per-war policeman who had owned this house was roughly James size so he had a cupboard & dresser full of new clothes or as new as you can get for clothes being in a cupboard for two hundred years….

Wow this guy had some pretty nice clothes, must have been a bloody good cop.

James picked out a slightly dirty black wife beater vest and a black blazer putting them on he walked over to window in his bedroom, it was getting rather cold so he decided to close it…

Then out of nowhere James noticed that two people, maybe Mercs were running down 2^nd street and into a nearby alleyway, which was followed by an female voice shouting and then screaming from the Alleyway…..

[censored]!! [censored] someone is in trouble!

Not seeing anyone else around who could help, James decided he had to do it himself and made his way slowly downstairs to Barry, just as he did someone ran out the front door….

[censored] who was that!

Finally getting down stairs he picked up a sawn-off shotgun and passed it to Barry “Quick take this shotgun!; someone is in trouble in the Alleyway, we need to go and help!” James said as he picked up the keys to backdoor and opened it….

The two made their way across Grayditch Second Street and to the alleyway area where James had heard the shouting
“Come it was this way.” James said as they approached the alleyway, his nickel plated 44. Magnum in hand stood out from the darkness of the streets.

That was when they noticed Aaron? Or whatever his name was, holding an 44. Out he was shouting at someone in the alleyway “she's not even older then 13! Let's just put down the guns and let the girl go. Come on. They caught the last bit as they reached the alleyway and saw who he was shouting at….

Vault dwellers? What are they doing here…

Whoever these vaults dweller where one of them was holding a pistol to Tracey head. James also noticed the two people he had seen were in fact calypso mercs… Clark was also there holding an 10mm at the dwellers, who were giving her the look...

I wonder if their all from the same vault..

James aimed his 44 Magnum at the guy who was holding his gun at Tracy’s head. ” I know you’re probably scared and think we are all monsters or simple folk but if you hurt that child, I promise you won’t be leaving this alleyway alive”James said before coughing several times.

“Sorry but someone did try to assassinate me earlier on” James chuckled as he used to his left hand to hold his wound but still kept his magnum trained on the guy...

[sally coker]

Barry Burton - Investigating with James - Afternoon

Barry had been sat in the same spot for a good ten minutes, buzzing off the drug he had taken earlier and not conversing with the bloke sat next to him at all. All of a sudden a shout rang out in the distance, it was too far away for Barry to tell what was said but it was enough to get his blood pumping.

"What the [censored] is going on?" The man said, appearing to be clearing his head. "[censored] this, I'm checking that out." He finished, jumping up and pulling his own .44 Magnum, sprinting out of the door without so much as another word. Barry stood up too, tucking away his own handgun and turning to spot James slowly clambering down the staircase. He grabbed a Sawn-Off Shotgun and passed it to Barry, on instinct Barry flipped down the barrel, revealing two slugs inside.

"Quick, take this Shotgun! Someone's in trouble, we need to go help!" James spoke frantically, picking up the keys to the backdoor and opening it.

"No argument from me mate, just be careful, your not exactly in peak condition." Barry spoke cautiously, following James out the door and down the road. As they approached the incident they both spotted the scene, the man from James shop had arrived, speaking to three well armed men that appeared to be holding the girl Barry had seen at the tent earlier hostage. Calypso and another woman were also there, their weapons drawn, Barry holstered the shotgun and pulled his HK45 handgun, it was the most accurate gun he had on him and if [censored] hit the fan it was the one he could get the most head shots with in the least amount of time.

James spoke again, his sentence being follwed by painful coughing. "Sorry but someone did try to assassinate me earlier on." He chuckled; he too keeping his magnum trained on what seemed to be the dominant guy.

"Well, there's only two ways this will end now. Either we lower our guns; all of us! And find a peaceful solution to whatever the [censored]s going on here. Or... We all open fire and we all die right here, right now... And, just as an undertone, I'm way too old for this [censored]! But on the flip side, I've lived a good life, I'm ready for death... Can't say the same about you pampered vault [censored]s." Barry grinned at the Vault Suit wearing people manically, dropping his gun down to his thigh as a sign of peace, but being ready to lift and blast if called for.

[Mizz.Jayy]

Jade and Aponi - Sneaking out of The Elusive Rose - Evening

Jade gently pulled a stray, curly lock of hair as she peered out of her second floor bedroom window. "Why can't we ever just have a 'normal' party Aponi?"

The young tribal offered a small smile, and replied in a mousy tone, "I don't know, is this how it always is here?"

Jade giggled, "I forgot you've only been here in town for a couple of days." She nodded, "Yep, pretty much. Seems like someone, or some group are up to something."

"It does seem like a hostile environment." Aponi paused, "There was a lot, and I mean alot back west. My husband, the jerk who traded me to Calypso for a box of cigars?"

"Yeah," acknowledged Jade.

"He murdered my arranged husband while we stood on the altar. Then, he held a gun to the priest's head and made him marry us. Or, he and his group would kill our entire tribe."

"Wow that svcks. But, you followed him all the way here, why?" Jade inquired.

"It is our tribe’s belief, that no matter the situation, you stand by your husband, good or bad. He actually ended up being pretty kind, until we left Washington State. Then he complained about my submissiveness, and my..." Aponi bit her lip for a second, "inability to effectively survive by myself. We were raised to take care for our children, and see to our assigned husband's needs."

"Sounds a lot like slavery, well...except for the raising kids part," Jade snickered.

Aponi's cheeks felt hot, she smiled back though, "Yes, kind of in a way I suppose. I mean, I can understand how others might think that."

"Such a pretty night, look at all of those stars Aponi." Jade pointed, "someone once told me, back before the war, people called that the big dipper." Aponi leaned closer to the window, their cheeks almost touched when a red flash shot upwards from not far around the corner. Both women jumped back, "What the hell was that?"

Aponi shook her head, "I'm not sure."

Jade didn't look at, but reached for Aponi's shoulder and shook her lightly, "We should go see what it was, what do ya think?"

"I don't know, Calypso told us to stay here," Aponi showed a touch of worry.

"She's not as mean as she makes herself out to be, hell, look at this place. We get everything we need, food, caps, a place to live, and not to mention the hanky panky," Jade winked, "I saw Bob and Brandy come from the roof when the Enclave attacked the town. I say we check it out, see if we can sneak off and see what that flash was."

"I don't know," Aponi shuddered.

"Aw, come on, Rip and Watson will never know, and we can be back before Calypso and Lexy get back." Jade could see the uncertainty in Aponi's face, "Hey, it could be your first step as an independent woman?" She raised her brow suggestively.

Aponi grinned, tossing the idea around for a moment before replying, "Independent? OK," she nodded, "that sounds good, no more jerks like Mitch."

"He did seem like an ass hole, OK, let's blow this place. You're a tribal, so I'm sure, pretty sure anyways, that you can be quiet." Jade stood up, holding her hands out before her, pulling up Aponi, "ready to start a new life....of freedom?"

Aponi nodded excitedly, "Yes, let's go."

The two women exited her room, creeping down the hallway; it was pretty quiet save for some chatting behind closed doors. They found one stairwell at the end of the hallway, "Hurry," Jade shoed Aponi inside. They skipped up the stairs, reaching the blocked door. Together, they removed the blockade Bob had put up. Jade sighed deeply, taking in the cool night air. "This is a rush, and the air actually smells fresher up here."

Aponi sniffed, "It does," and then she giggled more than she had since she met Mitch, "This is very exciting."

"Over there," Aponi followed Jade's finger, "that ladder, we'll get down there."

Jade was surprised to see the eager tribal scurry ahead, she wasted no time climbing over the old buildings edge. Aponi stood on the runs of the ladder and smiled ear to ear, "Boy you're slow," she giggled.

Jade laughed, "Show-off told ya you'd like this," she followed Aponi down the ladder. "Think it came from that way."

"Yeah, just past that playground," Aponi grabbed Jade's hand and they started off past the decrepit playground. After helping each other over some rubble in their party dresses, they froze. A large building with the windows dimly lit, out front reaching down the sidewalk, red ropes.

"WOW, do you see anything, or anyone?" Asked Jade as she looked rapidly around the area.

"No, but we should be cautious though, just in case," Aponi said. They walked across the broken street, proceeding in between the soft ropes to the door. Aponi pressed her ear to the door for a couple of seconds, "I hear music," she whispered.

"What do ya think girl?" Jade folded her arms.

Aponi grinned devilishly, "Independent woman...remember?"

"Yep, after you Ms. Independent." Jade replied smartly.

Aponi slowly opened the door, her eyes widened. A large room, seductively lit, the prewar music graced the air as their heels gently clicked on the floor. Tables and chairs encircled a large clearing on the floor. Aponi pointed at a big T in the center of the floor. “Look at the size of that bar?” Jade’s mouth fell open, she made for the handsomely decorated bar. Aponi cleared her throat, Jade saw why, a Mr. Handy hovered behind the rich wood. They both waited to see what it would do, some were hostile, and from years of neglect, they looked similar to the old army Mr. Handy’s.

[evelina c]

Justin Mieux- Tropical Room

Mieux was admiring himself on the second floor on a landing mirror he'd polished to new condition when he heard the Mr. Handy 'Winston' echo up the stairway 'Good evening ladies! How may I service you this fine night?'. Mieux cocked an eyebrow, took off his thick tinted sunglasses and descended down the stairs in his formal wear, a black silk tuxedo, with a red silken vest and bowtie combination, the dress shirt washed white with Abraxo. He checked his hair once more, oiled delicately and precise, his face clean shave. His shoes gently clicked as he descended each step to the first floor. "Welcome guests! Welcome to the Tropical Room." He nodded gently, approaching them each and kissing each one on the hand and a charming smile. "My, and what lovely ladies indeed. I, I am Mr. Justin Mieux, owner of this nightclub."

Mieux escorted the two to a table, and gesturing Winston to come over to take their orders. "I do hope you'll enjoy your stay a-" He paused and looked hard Aponi, his eyes furrowed in deep scanning. "You clean up very nicely, a compliment I've NEVER given to a Tribal, love." His left lip smirked back at his quip. "Love the dress by way, tonight is the opening gala event, so one bottle of wine and a meal of Brahmin Steak in aged seasonings, with a side of Fancy Lad snack cakes are on the house tonight, everything else will cost you afterwards." He smiled his charmed, painfully mastered smile and said gently, "I do hope you enjoy your meals, if you need anything at all, I'll be out in the front lobby." He walked across the ballroom floor, onto the carpeted aisle to the lobby to monitor the front desk. He slowly hummed to 'http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lb9qQM50ekY' as it came over the ballroom speakers, his humming trailing off the further he got from them.

[Johnny]

Bob Dobbs

Outside the Tropical Room – Evening

“Interesting fellow, don’t you think?”, asked Monroe. “He has the caps and gumption to fix this place up, yet a pitched battle takes place practically on his doorstep and he doesn’t even notice.”

“Fortunately, they didn’t notice him either”, Bob replied. “Otherwise he’d be laid out in the playground with the others. Now what do we do?”.

“Wake up the so called sheriff of this town”, Monroe said, “and get her ass in gear so we can start searching door to door. Folks don’t know me or my men and I don’t want any incidents”.

After stopping at the clinic to find no sign of Cody, they moved on to Amelia’s house. After several minutes of pounding on the door, Amelia…rather unkempt looking and not pleased to be receiving visitors…finally answered the door. Bob, noticing movement in the room behind her, explained the situation. Amelia reluctantly agreed to meet them at the Diner once she got dressed, then shut the door again. Bob and Monroe then headed for the Diner.

“You recognize the guy she was with?”, Monroe asked.

“David O’Reilly”, Bob said. “One of the deputies….hell of a shot, he took out at least ten of the Raiders at Springdale with his sniper rifle”.

“And now he’s poking the Boss”, Monroe said, “While people are being gunned down on the…completely unpatrolled…streets. If this is the best that Colin can do, people here had better take things into their own hands and set up a militia”.

“Can’t say I disagree”, replied Bob, “But decent equipment isn’t cheap. The Brotherhood ponied up a case of 5.56 and 7.62 AP ammo to replace what we burned through yesterday, but we’ll need more than that just to train. And guns…and armor.”

“I might be able to help with some of that”, Monroe said. “I’ve got some connections.”

Monroe then heard shouting coming over from the next street, he stopped and faced that direction.

“You hear that?”, asked Monroe. “It’s coming over from the next block!”

Bob looked that way, and now that his deaf ear was no longer turned to the sound, could hear it too.

“Yeah”, replied Bob. “Let’s check it out.”

Cautiously making their way down the alley, they came out in the next street. Before them were two groups, one composed of James, a man who James had hired but he did not know, Clark, Calypso, and what looked to be several of her mercenaries. The other group were in Vault suits, except for a Redhead girl. One of them, apparently the leader, was holding the little girl he had seen with Cole in front of him…and had a 10mm pistol clapped up against the side of her head.

“Mister”, Bob said as he raised his rifle, centering the reticule of his holo-sight on the man’s nose, “You’re in deep enough [censored] already….threatening that little girl is just making things worse for you and your friends. Let her go. Now.”

[James Smart]

-Toby
--Tap's Tent

Girly had been sticking close to her little, newly planned six-toy quietly spitting out whines that Toby didn't bother listening to. Even as he was about finished with the ass hole doctor, he didn't give a [censored] what she was complaining over - it was just too bad she hadn't done her classic bawling and stuttering to laugh at.

And then, as he turned his head, the wind whipped the right of his face. The same screeching crash of glass pierced through that same ear in an explosion.
It almost felt as if the bottle had hit him.

"What t-"

It was Brandy. Brandy.
Toby felt that familiar hatred and rage spike, but he couldn't quite believe it. Pathetic little Girly, with flowing tears and all, daring to throw a bottle at him. She was in no place to be throwing anything at him. He felt his knuckles press his skin and crack as he gave tightly closed fist. Instead of freezing at the sight of his contorted glare and teeth, or crying for Bob or Sue or the guy on the ground, she stood on her own. Looking him in the face.

“That is enough!!! What have I ever done to you…you jerk.” She stomped closer, and his entire body seemed to bristle and tense, his eyes giving crazy, off look, “I have NEVER done anything to you, and ever since the school, you have been nothing but an [censored] to me, why?"

"Because you're a pathetic, useless little [censored] that can't do [censored]!" He finally interrupted - but it sounded like a blurt.

"You see all these [censored] scars? You take a good look, you [censored]," he shoved his ugly, pathetic, worn face with a fierce look directly at her eyes - no more than an inch from Brandy - and pulled slightly where the holes and creases and bumps were, before showing his sad-looking, scraggly neck and hands. Toby wasn't an extremely young man, but he looked more tired and ruined than most his age. There were cuts, a few burns, slashes across everything - especially the back of one neck - that had a messy line of them from repeated abuses. His hands had several scars from some sort of kitchen-knife, and the right looked as if the two center-most fingers had been broken, smashed up, or something else enough to make the side of the middle deformed at the left edge and the other a little extra bumpy.

He was still loudly yelling, louder than before,
"I didn't fit anyone's standards, couldn't take care of myself, wasn't some big shot with a gun, and I got punished for it - every day of my life. I got [censored] on, even after I learned how to do something worth keepin' me around for.
"You don't fit Wasteland standards, to the point that you should be dead or beat-up for the [censored] one-hundredth time, and what happens to you? You're the [censored] Queen to any desperate [censored] that needs to get laid - maybe even to the brain-dead idiots who aren't. Because it's 'cute' that you can't do anything and are a complete [censored] moron. You should be more scarred, more dead than me, you should be everyone's unwilling six toy - because in any other place, that's exactly what would be happening to you. The Wasteland'd clean out the [censored] that can't survive."

She didn't seem to even pause or shrink back, and instead Girly's disgusting, supposedly oh-so-pretty face gnarled in as much rage as she could probably handle. Her jaw visibly moved to violently grind and scratch her own teeth before she began bitterly, beginning to raise her own voice in a viscous tone, "You didn’t have to go there, you didn’t have to help, I already know that I’m not that helpful in this wasteland. AND, I’m no floozy either, so you need to shut your mouth about that and stop taunting Sue."

"I'll mock your dog all I [censored]in' want!!" He made his own ears ring, for just a moment, at the burst.

"You can either help us get Cole to someone who can help him properly, or just shut your [censored] mouth right now.”

And then he felt her shove him, his back stinging as it hit the edge of the bar. Toby's face loosened, yet stiffened, in the oddest and most bloodthirsty way. Staring unfazed, unreceptive, at her face as if he were going to chop off her neck - and only completely after a good ten hacks at it. Something snapped.

“Are you going to help, or just stand there or run off and hide? I don’t remember seeing you anywhere during the Enclave attack,” Brandy tugged down her dress a little to reveal her plasma wound, “at least I tried to help, which is more than I can say for you [censored]."

"You're [censored] paying for that, [censored]."

In a flash, as Toby was so familiar in doing it, he threw out his pistol. Without pause or hesitation, bullets spun through.

The satisfying pop!, and then the quieter crash, and split of flesh, could be heard on the first try. Puncturing somewhere around the ribs, maybe to the lungs.
That first shot wasn't enough, Toby gave this twisted snarl and unthinking glare, and heard another bullet pierce the shoulder.

He already had a feel for what he was going to do - he was going for her two legs next, at the knees and maybe the calf or thigh. Then her hands. If she were still alive, some fun with a knife would be in order. This [censored] was going to get what she had long deserved.

Pop-

Something threw itself from behind, and Toby gun flew helplessly upward as he pulled the trigger a third time, the bullet straying from its once perfect aim. The man's body heavily hit the dusty floor with a loud crash.

As he began shouting a connected line of cusses and threats - near incomprehensible - he saw Tap over his shoulder, unrelentingly holding him down. His gun was just out of grasp.

All he could think about was how nice that bullet would look in Brandy's knee.

[LuCY sCoTT]

Sue cooper – Getting revenge…..

“Are you going to help, or just stand there or run off and hide? I don’t remember seeing you anywhere during the Enclave attack,” Brandy tugged down her dress a little to reveal her plasma wound, “at least I tried to help, which is more than I can say for you [censored]."

"You're [censored] paying for that, [censored]." Toby said and without pause or hesitation, toby drew his pistol and fired…. A brandy…

Noooooo!

The bullet hit brandy in the Puncturing somewhere around the ribs, maybe to the lungs but that wasn’t enough for the [censored] he fired again, this time the bullet pierce her shoulder.

Sue rushed over to Brandy as she fell to the floor, there was another gunshot but Sue didn’t pay any attention, she just looked at brandy, she had pretty badly hurt by that freak toby. Ripping parts of dress up Sue attempted to stop the bleeding….

Don’t die brandy don’t die!

Sue turned to face [censored] that did this…. Toby, he was struggling to reach his pistol whilst Tap unrelentingly held him down.

you won't be getting that gun....

Getting Up sue walked over to this piece of trash and stamped on his hand, she then bent down and picked up the gun….
No he’s not worth a quick and painless death…

Sue threw the gun away and got down, one look at her face and you tell how she was feeling, Angry…. She wanted revenge…

Wack!

Sue punched toby in face, several in fact times causing him bleeding over whilst doing this she started to cry, she loved brandy, she couldn’t be killed now and by toby of people... she wouldn't allow it... Sue started getting Angier and angier! Her punches weren’t enough… she picked up a half-empty vodka bottle and smashed it over Toby’s head...

“That’s enough Sue” Tap said “brandy needs your help, that doctor guy has gone of somewere.” she added on.

Tap was right, Sue dropped the remaining part of the vodka bottle on the floor and rushed back to where brandy was and continued to help her with her injuries, kissing her on her forehead as she did, hopefully that doctor would be back soon and Brandy would be fine....

[A Lo RIkIton'ton]

Brandy - Tap's Tent - Evening

"You're [censored] paying for that, [censored]." Snarled Toby, in a flash, he aimed his pistol at Brandy. She didn't get a chance to do anything before Toby pulled the trigger, hitting her in her mid-section below her left briast. It happened so fast, and the pain so intense, she could not even yell. She had only falling back slightly before a second pop, followed by piercing pain hit her shoulder.

Her glasses flew off as she fell to the ground, Toby became more of a blur, but she saw his pistol lower, but it was still pointed directly at her. Another blur hit him, his pistol sounded off again, but this time, there was no added pain. Brandy wondered if she was already in to much agonizing pain to even feel if the third bullet had hit her?

She laid her head, her first massive gasp brought excrutiating pain. She began to pant heavily, holding up her hands from her mid-section, they were painted with blood. She stared at the tent's ceiling, nothing but darkness. She was dizzy, the wounds taking over any, and all, other feelings from her body. The ensuing struggle and words may as well been in another language. She was unable to comphrehend what was being shouted.

Someone hovered over top of her, Brandy's hand traced the side of the blurry face. Blinded by the pain, and struggled breaths, she had no idea who it was. Whomever it was suddenly left, the ringing in Brandy's ears only started to leave when she made out the smack of skin on skin.

“That’s enough Sue” a voice said “Brandy needs your help, that doctor guy has gone of somewere.”

Brandy's eyes were wide, she coughed and clutched herself from the added burning. She blinked, wincing as she reached for the person she thought was Sue. Something soft clung to her blood covered hand, she tugged weaker than an infant. Her voice was hoarse with both terror, and suffering,"dunt, dunt kilm him."

Sue turned, causing the only secure feeling thing to leave Brandy's hand, in a fraction of a second, Brandy felt something warm christen her forehead, followed by a warm sensation. She gulped down air rapidly, her breaths shallow, "Soo? Soou," she spoke near silent through her breaths, "Hez rite, I...I dunt belung here. I sud I shuldent, dunt hurt hem."

Brandy's words became nothing more than mumbles as she slipped into a sickening blackness, her breaths slowed, the pain subsided as her body went numb. She gargled as she breathed, a warm, salty tasting liquid filled her mouth. She stared blanky up, her hand shook as she pawed at Sue's face to make sure she was there as she fell silent.

[Jacob Phillips]

CODY DIRKHEIM ** Spark and Flame/GRAYDITCH ** Evening

Cody carefully wrapped the bandage around Harold’s injured foot. The bullet he removed was sitting on the floor in a small pool of blood that was slowly darkening from crimson to a sticky, dark brown mark. He carefully pinned the bandage together, then proceeded to slosh his scalpel, suture needle, and fingertips in the cup of vodka.

“Well, my badly maimed friend, you are patched up, for better or worse.” Cody smiled as he straightened, rolling his shoulders back and listening to the joints pop. “I’d be careful on that for a bit.” The flamboyant red head began re-packing his bag as he continued talking. “I’ll go fetch you a crutch, I’m certain there’s a pair somewhere in town, and…er…”

Cody trailed off as he watched Harold silently stand, shove his injured foot back into the shoe it came out of, and shuffle towards the door.

“Harold, I’m not kidding, you really don’t want to be putting weight on that, you’ll pull the stitches.”

Harold didn’t reply as he simply opened the door and stepped out into the night. The door slammed shut with a particularly loud bang. The sound caused some dust to loosen off the ceiling and drift gently to the floor.

That’s what I get for trying to reason with a ‘roid-headed meatbrain. At least I tried…mom would always say the important part was to say your piece and hope the human preservation reflex would kick in. Cody sighed and zipped his bag shut. He pulled on his jacket, tied his silk scarf back around his neck, and poised his fedora back onto his head. The surgeon looked back toward the grimy window and finally realized that night had fully fallen. It wasn’t the first time he found himself so wrapped up in a task that everything else fell to the wayside…

…including taking care of his own needs. The surgery lasted for several hours, which was common for operating on feet. There were so many muscles, tendons, ligaments, and bones crammed into such a small volume of mass, one small slip and a man’s toes could be paralyzed for life.

Cody shook his head to break himself of the topic, knowing if he even merely stood there thinking about it long enough, he’d go over every single small detail of the surgery in his head again. The operation was a success, and clearly the man was walking, there was no need to obsess about it any longer.

The surgeon’s stomach growled as though to remind him why he got off track with his thinking to begin with. Cody tipped his hat to the robot and stepped out the door, not realizing it didn’t make hardly a sound as it clicked shut when he left.

There was a considerable amount of commotion in the town. Cody looked around and noticed a number of people in a tent at the other end of the street, and a lot of fuss.

Bad fuss.

There were a lot of people in the tent, and raised voices, but Cody wasn’t close enough to hear anything distinct. He began to cautiously approach the tent. There seemed to be people everywhere. The surgeon wasn’t particularly talented in identifying danger or triaging dangerous situations. He didn’t see the group of people in the street, a young teenager pointing a gun. He did see an object fly in the tent through its open canvas “door”. He did hear a man’s voice ranting about privilege.

He absolutely heard the gunshots.

Oh, Christ! A woman’s work is never done! Cody took off at a sprint toward the tent. His first responder tunnel vision was on in full force and dashed straight in, not considering the possibility that the gunman could still be firing bullets into fleshy targets.

The victim was Brandy. All of the attention was turned to her, and the dark haired woman – Sue, if he recalled correctly – was holding her. The town’s sweet, polyamorous tour guide.

Brandy coughed, a liquidy sound, and blood trickled out of her mouth. Cody’s eyes finally honed in on the darkening of Brandy’s shirt and where Brandy and Sue were both clutching. Brandy weakly reached up toward Sue’s face and her eyes fluttered shut.

“Sue! Get Brandy onto a table! There’s still time, we can help her.” Cody flung his bag into the nearest chair and immediately shed his jacket, scarf, and fedora. He pulled out some scissors, his scalpel, and –

Getting ahead of myself. “Sue, is she on that table yet?” The surgeon flung himself into action, completely disregarding anything and anyone else. Brandy was bleeding badly, her breaths shallow and quick. Cody firmly pushed Sue out of the way and leaned over the young woman, laying on what would soon become his operating table. He reached up and gently felt the back of Brandy’s shoulder and found an exit wound. Well, that’s better than the other option…

He slid his hands down Brandy’s back, sticky with blood from her shoulder wound, and realized he had been too optimistic too soon. There was no exit wound from the bullet she took in the ribs, meaning it was somewhere inside her body.

Possibly lodged behind her lung, in her ribs. Possibly still in her lung. Perhaps her ribs would end up fractured on both sides. Perhaps the bullet entered between the ribs but is stuck in the back.

Perhaps you get your talented and gorgeous hands in gear, [censored], this woman is dying.

Cody immediately began to cut Brandy’s shirt open. He shrugged Sue’s arm off and continued working. “Now isn’t the time for modesty, got it? The bullet didn’t exit, which means I need to get her open and get that bullet out as soon as I can if our tour guide is going to have any chance of survival.” He grabbed two wads of gauze and shoved them into Sue’s hands. “Hold one each to the holes in her shoulder, back and front, as tight as you can. Brandy can’t afford to be losing more blood.”

Cody hauled the chair containing his bag over to where he was standing, its ancient legs scraping noisily across the ground. He reached in and pulled out some tweezers, more gauze, his suturing needle and thread. It took him a moment to locate his retractors. He made a point of disinfecting it with some vodka on gauze.

“Brandy, it’s me, Dr. Dirkheim – Cody, do you remember? We had such a nice chat today, you’re going to be the town tour guide, right? You’re going to survive this and tell everyone who comes into town about what you’ve been through.” Cody took a breath as he looked at the entry wound as it pulsated, the blood rhythmically rising and falling with her breathing. “I know you’re in a lot of pain right now, and I’m going to help you. There’s going to be pain still while I take care of you. I can’t avoid that. Just stay with us and it’ll all be over really soon.”

He took the vodka bottle in hand and gently poured a stream of the clear liquid over the wound, disinfecting the entire area. The diluted blood ran over the side of her ribs and pooled underneath her back. “Just keep breathing, kiddo, keep breathing…”

Cody skillfully and without hesitation made an incision to lengthen the hole made by the bullet. With a fluid motion of his left hand, he locked the retractor open, giving himself a larger opening to work with.

Blood filled the opening nearly instantly and again seemed to ebb and wane with her breathing. This was not going to be an easy operation. Without a direct line of vision to the bullet, he was going to have to do a considerable amount of hunting for it, and in a very sensitive area.

It wasn’t the first time he’d had to do it. The problem was, the very nature of the wound meant there wasn’t a very high rate of survival, whether he tried to remove the object or not. If he wasn’t quick enough, if the bullet was lodged somewhere nearly impossible, if there was literally one of a plethora of factors ranging from her heart rate to whether or not she drank a Nuka Cola today was in play, Brandy would die in front of him. Losing a patient on the table wasn’t something he was unfamiliar with, either.

He took a stabilizing breath. “I need to try and find the bullet inside you, Brandy. You’re going to feel pain and discomfort, and I’m sorry about that. It’s not nice for either of us.” Cody took his tweezers and gently entered the wound, slowly but deliberately feeling for a texture change.

Brandy’s entire body suddenly convulsed. She coughed, expelling blood out of her mouth. Her body stopped shaking but her hands and arms continued to twitch.

Her blood pressure and heart rate are tanking. “Brandy? Brandy! Stay with us, kid! Do you hear me? Keep breathing! The pain is going to be over soon!”

He knew that either way, the last statement was true. Through her twitchings, Cody continued to try and probe for the bullet. He thought he felt something that wasn’t tissue…but was it a bullet, or bone…?

Brandy’s arms became still and only her fingers were twitching. Her breathing was erratic.

“Brandy!!” Cody bellowed, keeping his hand as steady as he could as his patient no longer had a regular rhythm to her breathing and movements.

[Miguel]

-Aubrey
--Near the Diner

Aubrey felt herself staring in shock and confusion as Calypso easily waltzed into the scene, interrupting everything. So, it had been her, and the lady behind her, responsible for the wave in the shadows. Her mouth opened for words, and her entire body seemed to stutter - feet shuffling in the shifty ground - before she forced her calm to wash expression away and threw her eyes back on the group - on Mr. Pini with his gun to the little girl's head. Her gun nicely trained for his eye, but she felt her own arm wavering just a tad.

The Calypso lady smoothly flashed a knife and...something Aubrey hadn't actually witnessed before. It lit on fire, and her eyes tried to veer there - she forced herself to keep them stuck in place, despite a few twitches leaning toward the odd woman.

“Well well well, did you find the party crashers love?” Calypso she had said.

"Sadly, I think so."

“A twisted, sick piece of trash, I do believe is what you said, is it not?” she breezed a turn to Mr. Pini with bizarre grace and calm, who was glaring at her - evidently a Wastelander to him - with a sort of hate even very personal enemies usually don't look on with. Calypso wasn't worried in the least, from what Aubrey could tell without a direct glance.

The mouth of the older man's 10 mm pointed for fire against her, and he jumped - with a shocked yowl - and opened up the group when the pitter-patter of bullets dashed beside him. Everyone was looking to Calypso, but the older man was clearly spooked by the passive ambush by Wastelanders. He hunched behind the group further, looking more like a baby ready to cry because of some big dog nearby than a deadly invader. Mr. Pini just looked more pissed.

“Please allow to me to introduce myself, I am Calypso, and this,” she waved her sword, “Is my town, and you have disrupted our celebration. For that infuriates me greatly. “I do believe in prewar times, trash was kept in tin cans. Enlighten me, if you refer to us as trash, how can that be when we face the struggles of day to day life in this place, but you live in a…tin can?”

"Uh, your town?" Aubrey quietly blurted, before giving a pained look - raising her brows and squinting her eyes closed in personal scorning disbelief. 'Really not the time for that...'

"Trying to play big and smart, huh? Just like a dog trying to speak," Mr. Pini straightened himself just a tad to a bigger stance, putting a hand about the girl's neck and pulling in such a way that her back pressed against his leg and his grip forced her to be a tad taller than she actually was. Some struggling breaths could be heard, and that enthusiastic glee was slowly seeping away from her face.

"You irradiated filth aren't good enough to own anything."


Calypso stepped forward, without so much as a bead of sweat or a wrinkle on her forehead, “I have my snipers in position, the rest of my mercs will arrive shortly. If it is blood that you lust for, I am more than please to accommodate your request. But it seems as though you are pressing a pistol to my friend’s daughter, this displeases me very much.”

Two others approached, “You OK boss?”

The older man began trembling more and more violently, looking to Mr. Pini in hopes he had a solution.

"It seems as though we have located the nuisances," Calypso turned back to the dwellers and raised her eyebrow, “Let this be between advlts, let the child go…NOW!!” her face twisted in anger.

"NO."

"[censored]in' Hell, Chrio, don't shoot the girl - are you insane?"
"Shut up, Amos! It's Mr. Pini. I'm still Head of Security, you arrogant brat."
"You're going to get everyone k-"

"Alright, alright, boys, c'mon," Biddy pressed through the group enough to be more up front, and then tore from it to "confidently" saunter closer to Calypso and her friends. The confidence was a lie, because Aubrey's clever eyes caught just how eagerly she broke into the scene, how nervously her feet dragged, how her smile wasn't quite right. She was faking, maybe faking well, but Biddy was almost as scared as the old man. She probably wasn't used to many a gun pointed at her, and such a scary look from another as Calypso had just snarled with.

"Look, our guard's an ass sometimes," she ignored his proceding slur and glare toward her, "He isn't a charming guy, but he's tryin' t' do the job. He's kind of like the racist grandpa or uncle, watcha gonna do, ya know?"

The lady's big, pouty lips slipped a shockingly, unrestrained, cute smile in a sort of "charmingly" cheeky way, "Half the time, he's more like work than help, but us vault dwellers don't get a lot of naturally good or well-trained fighters like him. We didn't have an option if we wanted to fight all those raiders and scarier guys, ya know? Live?" She made sure to keep her arms uncrossed, as Aubrey noticed her arm begin to move, once or twice, as if she wanted to. Instead giving big, slightly silly and energetic gestures.

She put a smooth, clean hand - still with just a chip or two of nail polish from a while back - quietly on her neck, rubbing the smooth, olive skinned surface nervously, as some other men came in. The lips had reverted to the sulk you'd see from flappers as her pretty, her intensely green eyes watched with interest. She was leaking her anxiety just a little bit more blatantly, for public view.

The first man was yet another unfamiliar face, he showed a threatening .44 Magnum, looking disturbed to see Tracy - now blatantly upset and near tears, with a pistol right on her head - in her situation, "What the [censored]? Calypso, who the hell are these guys? What the [censored] is going on? Let the girl go, I don't know why you even have her as a hostage, she's not even older then 13! Let's just put down the guns and let the girl go. Come on."

Then James, of all people. Another .44 Magnum.

"I know you’re probably scared and think we are all monsters or simple folk but if you hurt that child, I promise you won’t be leaving this place alive," and then he made some concerning coughs that pried a look from Aubrey.

“Sorry but someone did try to assassinate me earlier on” James chuckled, standing there like an idiot who thought who could survive another hit. Or survive the first one, while standing out in this little scuffle.

She couldn't believe she was scorning a guy with so much more experience, supposedly, "James, you [censored] idiot," she spat, brows pressing down in a medley of bitter frustration and concern. "What the [censored] are you doing here? You're not foolin' anyone."

"Is that the local she's fallen for, in particular?" Mr. Pini snapped at Aubrey angrily, reflexively, "We should s-"
"Not-Right-Now-Mr.-Pini," Biddy whispered quickly, as swift as a breath.

"Well, there's only two ways this will end now. Either we lower our guns; all of us! And find a peaceful solution to whatever the [censored]s going on here. Or... We all open fire and we all die right here, right now... And, just as an undertone, I'm way too old for this [censored]! But on the flip side, I've lived a good life, I'm ready for death... Can't say the same about you pampered vault [censored]s." Barry grinned at the Vault Suit wearing people manically, dropping his gun down to his thigh as a sign of peace, but being ready to lift and blast if called for.

"Well, there's only two ways this will end now," Biddy gave a look to, shocker, another unfamiliar man. No one else felt safe or bold enough to keep their gaze trained on just him, Aubrey certainly didn't. She just kept practicing on forever petrifying her eyes so that no distractions, not even the brazen stupidity of James - 'God, he's gonna get killed in his state' - to force her eyeballs to shift.

This was growing increasingly odd and, much to her surprise, overwhelming. Aubrey didn't know how to feel about this, as she stared at the vault group and it's young hostage. That she was standing against them yet again, finger ready to do another ghastly deed to her own people she supposedly loved so, that she was backed by the entire town of Wastelanders. People she was never meant to be friends with, certainly not the side she was supposed to take out of the two.

Everything was wrong, and yet Aubrey wasn't sure if she should purely feel loneliness or despair. She just felt her eyes sting, and realized her breath had gone shallow before forcing a full, deep gulps of air. Swallowing and shifting uncomfortably again.
Well, maybe she wouldn't die. The little girl and everyone was at the very risk she had predicted, though.

"Either we lower our guns; all of us! And find a peaceful solution to whatever the [censored]s going on here. Or... We all open fire and we all die right here, right now... And, just as an undertone, I'm way too old for this [censored]! But on the flip side, I've lived a good life, I'm ready for death... Can't say the same about you pampered vault [censored]s." The man grinned at the Vault Suit wearing people manically, dropping his gun down to his thigh as a sign of peace.

"Gee, thanks, buddy," Aubrey indignantly grimaced. "You know, living in the vault doesn't make completely replicated people. Mr. Pee-knee, here, is certainly bat[censored]-insane enough for it." Biddy didn't look too happy about Aubrey's claim, faltering for a moment to give her an annoyed glare.

Aubrey suddenly saw, from the edge of her eye, Bob and Monroe coming up, "Well...just getting the whole crew here, aren't we?"
She gave a nod of recognition, though not quite looking them in the eyes, "Hey, guys. I think we I found the ass holes, here...some old neighbors."

“Mister”, Bob said as he raised his rifle, centering the reticule of his holo-sight on the man’s nose, “You’re in deep enough [censored] already….threatening that little girl is just making things worse for you and your friends. Let her go. Now.”

Aubrey was done with this. Mr. Pini was an ass hole, she would know. He was probably the shooter. He probably would kill the little girl. Hitting him now when he was busy insulting all the Wastelanders was the best chance. She felt sick, but her index finger began to press on the trigger -




"Wait, folks! Please, some mercy! This is a big misunderstanding, I promise you!!" Biddy began again, her pretty, pouty face looking entirely worried and high-pitched pleading now. She put her hands on her pouting mouth, across her young face, in a sort of shock. Like she hadn't expected it to get so bad and tense, and was scared out of her mind. It looked pitiful and sad.
"What our guard did isn't good, it's bad, we know. Uh, you, cute, near-assassinated big man with the hand on your gut - " the deep-red-haired girl pointed slightly to him in a quick gesture with her smooth, thin arm, "You're right, totally, totally right. He's scared a y' fellas. We're still real new with this Wasteland, we don't know what's out here. We've gotten attacked a lot - by both human things, and things we would never imagine. Things that don't seem to really think anymore, even. As you said, mister," she turned to the other that spoke before about what she was about to quote, "us "pampered" vault dwellers, we don't know anything. We're not ready for death - not even real bad injuries, ya know?"

"We're a bunch of stupid vault dwellers that don't know anything but what we've learned, and a few of us are quick to jump at scares. Like our guard, here-" she drifted quickly, almost bouncing - to flaunt anything that'd bounce, and because she was a rather enthusiastic and energetic girl - with the flow of her movement, touching his arm holding the yellow-dressed girl, "he's been freaked out. Never seen real combat, outside of," a cough, "Aubrey, here." A look to her made Aubrey glare, entirely shocked this topic ever somehow shot back to here.

But she had still caught that Biddy had pressed rather hard, in a silent manner, on that hand. And, in the background, Mr. Pini reluctantly loosened his torturous hold on the girl's neck. She was using Aubrey as a distraction - the tall exile felt her hands press hard against the pistol's handle and her teeth grit.

"We can't just go, cause she says so, either. We don't know where we could go outside of here, we needed to find a rest stop real fast. And this place looks like it's more set up for business and shelter than, say, a lot of broken and abandoned buildings do. Our poor-manned guard and friend, here, took the quickest route he thought would bargain us our safety and stay. None of us expected this."

She fixed her strapless top, once again showing off just how cute she really was, before holding her shoulders. However much she was lying, she was genuinely ready to [censored] herself in fear and sob in despair, and she showed it.

"We just don't want to die, we just want some help," she practically blubbered, her honey-sweet voice cracking, in a falter, before breathing deep and going on, "I've loved everything about the Wasteland, look at me. I've taken a lot from it, learned a lot from it. The only guy who doesn't like it is our security-man, but I swear to God, he'll behave. This was just a really bad, stressful time. He's just trying to do his job and duty, he wasn't going to hurt the girl - just trying to protect us. You have no idea how many people have tried to shoot us, beat us up..."

The dyed hair fell in her face a little as she rubbed her forehead with her palms and brushed through the vibrant, pure red hairs to calm herself. It was losing some of the perfection she had maintained back at the vault, she probably had little to no opportunities to redo the job as much as she wanted.

"I don't want a fight - we don't want a fight. But we don't want to get killed, either. How do we know you won't shoot us, hurt us, or kick us out the second we give back the girl? Especially our guard? He hasn't been pleasant, but we really, really need the guy - we can't lose him. And he's like family, the racist grandpa thing wasn't just a joke, we've all been together our entire lives."

"We can't afford it, is all I'm sayin'."



"She's lying," Aubrey insisted, looking at Biddy in particular with an anolytic and critical eye, suspicion thick in her voice, "I know these people. And they've got a good chance of being those "party-crashers" we've been talkin' 'bout. Probably among the best chance, frickin' honestly, unless this was a hired deal."

"We can't just let 'em stay here. Why? So Mr. Pini - their "guard" - or that old guy, or any other one of these guys, have a chance to kill some more innocent people?"


Suddenly, three shots rang from behind, another roar within the crowd, flowing from behind the stick-shaped girl. Her heart fell in a sickening way. She felt her eyes squint and her brows furrow in an increasingly familiar way.
"God, no.."
Looking to the whole range of people for a whole moment, and then to the tent, before back on the other vault dwellers, she asked grimly, "Looks like some more wounds or fatalities for the evening - three shots, a lot of yelling...Someone check Tap's Tent, please?
"I'm staying here, with these lying bastards. Not lettin' 'em out of my sight, unless you guys really need me."

[Lifee Mccaslin]

OOC: I know the post isn't much, but I think it speaks a little about his character when he isn't playing as the charmer.

Justin Mieux- The corner of a building

Justin Mieux stood outside the club smoking a cigarette, enjoying the night air when shots rang out, coming from what sounded like the direction of the diner the men had mentioned. Using his sneaky abilities, he ran silently, or at least as silently as one can in dress shoes, near the diner. He slowed as he reached the corner and held himself just as quiet as possible at the edge of the corner to where the commotion was going on. Mieux gently snubbed his cigarette to try and disapate the odor before it could be smelt. He'd started listening in just as a voice, female, said 'and this, is my town', which Mieux grinned, and said softly, "Not for much longer sister, this will be MY town before long." He quickly regained composure and continued earing in. He carefully quipped his face just enough to see what was going on, but didn't catch a good glimpse of much before he thought someone might have caught sight of him. He'd just gotten back into listening position when three shots rang out. Unsure what was going on, Mieux said gravely, "And that's my cue to dance on off stage." running quietely as possible, accidentally kicking a brick into the alley he was spying on as he slipped back to the Nightclub.

[Baby K(:]

James Wilson- Talking to Vaulters- Night

"I don't want a fight - we don't want a fight. But we don't want to get killed, either. How do we know you won't shoot us, hurt us, or kick us out the second we give back the girl? Especially our guard? He hasn't been pleasant, but we really, really need the guy - we can't lose him. And he's like family, the racist grandpa thing wasn't just a joke, we've all been together our entire lives….We can't afford it, is all I'm sayin'." The cute red-head vault dweller said, trying to braining for “Grandpa’s” life

she must be the leader of the group....

"She's lying," Clark insisted, looking at redhead , "I know these people. And they've got a good chance of being those "party-crashers" we've been talkin' 'bout. Probably among the best chance, frickin' honestly, unless this was a hired deal."

“Yeah but why would they try and kill me?, I’ve never met these people before, I’d remember the Vault suits” James chuckled” and the cute redhead”

"We can't just let 'em stay here. Why? So Mr. Pini - their "guard" - or that old guy, or any other one of these guys, have a chance to kill some more innocent people?"

Hmm she has a point we need to contain them in some non-hostile manner and not in that god awful Jail…. But somewhere safe until the morning, we can decide what to do with them then....

James was about to suggest an idea but then Suddenly, three shots rang from behind, coming from inside the diner tent or nearby…. Was it the attacker again? Or someone other event.

"God, no.."

James looked back the tent quickly, he couldn’t tell who if anyone had been hit but there was a lot yelling coming from inside, sounded like Tap and someone else…..

[censored] i wonder if anyone got hurt? but i can't just leave Tracey at Gunpoint.

"Looks like some more wounds or fatalities for the evening - three shots, a lot of yelling...Someone check Tap's Tent, please?
I'm staying here, with these lying bastards. Not lettin' 'em out of my sight, unless you guys really need me."

Several people then left to see what happened into tent whilst James cough some more and holstered his 44. Magnum before speaking again “I think I have a solution but listen to Barry and Lower or holster you’re guns, we don’t need any more injuries or deaths.”

That’s plan “B”… but i'd rather not have a gunfire right now.

“Now I want you to release the girl and for “Grandpa” to disarm, In return I’ll take you back to my house, were you can rest for night, resupply, have a doctor check you’re injures and in the Morning you shall be-able to leave town. Do this and I’ll give you my word as a gentleman and fellow Vault dweller that you won’t be harmed by anyone here, provided you don’t cause any more trouble.Beileve me, this we be the best deal you get... ” James said to the redhead girl.

"espically if you want "Grandpa" to stay alive cutie" James add on,

[Kieren Thomson]

Brandy - Hangin' in there at Tap's tent - Evening

Her fingers traced Sue’s face as they shook, another blurry figure appeared, she could make out something pink. “Sue! Get Brandy onto a table! There’s still time, we can help her.” She knew the man’s voice, but was unable to place it, consumed with an unnerving numbness; she twitched whenever she took a deeper breath from the sharp, stabbing pain.

“Sue, is she on that table yet?” Brandy heard the voice again; blood ran from the corner of her mouth down the side of her chin. Her vision was worsening; she could feel something lightly touching her back, groaning when it brushed her wounded shoulder. The movement went down from there, she started to shake.

Brandy felt the cool night air whisp across her no, bare body, the air stung her gaping wounds. “Now isn’t the time for modesty, got it? The bullet didn’t exit, which means I need to get her open and get that bullet out as soon as I can if our tour guide is going to have any chance of survival. Hold one each to the holes in her shoulder, back and front, as tight as you can. Brandy can’t afford to be losing more blood.”

From nowhere, there was a horrible pain on both, the front, and rear of her shoulder. “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH” she shrieked, her breathing became faster. Tears rolled down the sides of her face, dampening her hair by her ears.

“Brandy, it’s me, Dr. Dirkheim –Cody, do you remember? We had such a nice chat today; you’re going to be the town tour guide, right? You’re going to survive this and tell everyone who comes into town about what you’ve been through.” Brandy’s mouth moved slightly as she calmed once more, mouthing yes as her dilated pupils looked through Cody, as if he were not there, “I know you’re in a lot of pain right now, and I’m going to help you. There’s going to be pain still while I take care of you. I can’t avoid that. Just stay with us and it’ll all be over really soon.”

Brandy’s body attempted to move while Cody poured something on her mid-section, the intense burning sensation caused her to gasp, “Just keep breathing, kiddo, keep breathing…” She gasped again; blood tried sealing her lips together as Cody did something to her.

“I need to try and find the bullet inside you, Brandy. You’re going to feel pain and discomfort, and I’m sorry about that. It’s not nice for either of us.” Cody said softly, her eyes looked towards him; they had lost their sparkle, and were blank. Brandy’s entire body suddenly convulsed. She coughed, expelling blood out of her mouth. Her body stopped shaking but her hands and arms continued to twitch.

“Brandy? Brandy! Stay with us, kid! Do you hear me? Keep breathing! The pain is going to be over soon!” The pain was beginning to lessen, even when a sharp pain was spark, she was barely able to move her arms and hands.

“Ba…ba…baobb,” her voice barely more than a whisper. Then she went completely limp, only her fingers twitched from the trauma. Her eyes rolled back, and her breathing was erratic.

“Brandy!!” Cody bellowed, and Brandy no longer hurt, she was quite peaceful at that moment. Even dispite her labored, shallow breaths.

[My blood]

Barry Burton - Hostage Negotiation - Late Evening

The situation kept on, more and more armed Grayditch residents joined the scene, and the scared looks on most of the vault dwellers faces became a hell of a lot more evident; to the point where Barry began feeling sorry for them. Well, most of them, as time went on he spent the majority of the awkward seconds staring into the seemingly dominant man's eyes... The bastard who was holding the girl hostage, Barry felt nothing but growing hate and as the seconds passed the urge to put a round through the bastards forehead became a lot harder to fight. Luckily another woman stepped in, she was young and very good looking, unfortunately a little too young for Barry; but that still didn't manage to stop the girls beauty from drawing his eyes.

The girl put up a good speech, Barry immediately liked her a hell of a lot more then bastard, and even as she spoke he felt his grip on the HK45 loosen with his muscles. The girl seemed really scared, which Barry found continuously harder to ignore as his gut began to tighten with guilt. Just as the girl finished speaking three shots rang out in the distance, Barry's grip immediately tightened and he only just stopped himself from dropping down on one knee and lifting his handgun on instinct.

"Jesus, someone has to go check that." Barry spoke, not taking his eyes off bastard.

"Looks like some more wounds or fatalities for the evening, three shots, a lot of yelling... Someone check Tap's Tent, please? I'm staying here with these lying bastards. Not letting 'em out of my sight, unless you guys really need me." James spoke, immediately drawing his attention back to the vault dwellers, and to Barry's shock, holstering his Magnum.

"I'm staying with you mate, there's enough of us to check there and keep this locked down." Barry spoke, for once not grinning.

"I think I have a solution. But listen to Barry here and holster you’re guns, we don’t need any more injuries or deaths... "Now, I want you to release the girl and for... Grandpa to disarm, In return I’ll take you back to my house, where you can rest for night, resupply, and have a doctor check you’re injures. In the Morning you shall be able to leave town. Do this and I’ll give you my word as a gentleman and as a fellow Vault Dweller that you won’t be harmed by anyone here, provided you don’t cause any more trouble. Believe me, this will be the best deal you get...” James spoke, looking at the cute redhead. "Especially if you want grandpa to stay alive, cutie." James added on.

Barry smiled at the Dwellers again, tucking his handgun in his pants.

"If James says you live then I'm inclined to go with him, but if you do something that I find remotely immoral, Ill empty a clip into your face quicker then you can pull that pea shooter from it's holster, and I know from your stern expression and that bastard stature that you probaly prefer death to being spoken to like this by someone like me, but if you screw up, the violent deaths of the people your charged with looking after will be on your head. Back in your beloved vault you'll be remembered as the man who caused the death of all those who looked to him for protection... So behave." Barry spoke confidently and sternly, staring directly into the grandpa bastard's eyes before looking to James and shrugging.

"Too much?" He whispered, smiling.

Just as he was about to look back to the dwellers he caught a twitch of Jame's eye... A wink.

"So then... Dwellers? What do you say? And what can I call you? I'm not calling you dwellers for the next 24 hours, it's pissing me off already." Barry chuckled before looking to the young red head. "Good speech, you may have just saved your security friend's life."

[Ridhwan Hemsome]

Dean Johnson - Dweller Camp outside Grayditch - Late Evening

Dean's eyes darted around nervously, he had earlier assured Hadley that he would be fine left on his own for a little while, although now, as the sun went down and darkness crept over the wasteland his confidence went swiftly down hill, he was sat hunched over under a bridge; trying to make himself as small and inconspicuous as possible in the small camp the dwellers had made earlier in the day. It was supposed to be where they were to return after they had scouted the town in the distance. Despite their dislike for each other Mr Pini had wanted him to come along, he was one of the more capable shots among the vault dwellers and the bastard had probably knew he was going to start shooting as soon as he saw a waster. Luckily Hadley had told him to stay behind, and some how convinced Pini that it was best; Dean was truly thankful, in the vault he had always disliked Mr Pini, though now after travelling the wasteland with him for a while he had little but hate for the man, he truly was the animal he saw the people of the wasteland as. Although Dean's hate for Pini didn't stop him worrying, he was by far the most capable fighter in their group, if he were killed it would be devastating, it was doubtful they would survive.

The group had been over fifteen minutes now and the sound of gunshots coming from the direction of the town had done nothing to ease Dean's worrisome thoughts, he needed to do something to take his mind off it; the one thing that had managed to blank the nightmares of the waste out at night was updating his journal, although the more he witnessed the darker his journal became, it wasn't his official research one either, this one was his personal updater, he believed it helped him deal with the pressure. So as the wasteland became silent once again he brought his Pip Boy up and tapped in his password to access his personal entry's. Then quickly bringing up a word editor as he began to tap out his thoughts.

The majority of the wasteland people are just how me and Hadley imagined, they are stubborn, paranoid and sometimes rude... But not savage, there are a good few settlements throughout the land where we were greeted fairly by the settlers, some were even kind. One woman going as far as to patch up the the cut on my leg and allowing us to camp on her land with no incentive... Pini didn't care though. I will not taint my Pip Boy with the things he has done out here, I believe if I hadn't known the man since I was six years old and if the group didn't need him so much I would have been both fully inclined and justified in killing him. The things he has done to the people out here would warrant death or exile in the vault anyhow, although I truly believe he doesn't see the wastelander's as humans, the look he gets in his eyes when speaking to one of them is similar to that of when he spots a feral dog... Anyway, this is Dean Johnson, I am sorry to have lost count in the days we have been out here, I'm going to head into the town in the distance, the group has been too long, and I don't fancy being stuck under this bridge alone all night. Once again, this is Dean Johnson, signing off.

Dean saved the entry before flicking across to the local map screen and popping up the blueprints to the town. There were a good few ways to get into the town, but the closest one that also seemed to act as the main entrance was just up the road from where he was camped; he decided he would go through the front, he had seen a trader and brahmin head in earlier so the town couldn't be all that hostile. So he got up from his small safe haven from under the bridge, quickly grabbed his supply backpack and made his way towards the entrance, the first thing he noticed as he walked into the town was a Vertibird landed just up the road; he had read about them in the vault, they were used to drop squads of troops in the pre-world, he never thought he'd see one in his life time though. The next thing he noticed was was a patch of vegetation, he had been in the wasteland a while now but he had yet to be in a settlement long enough to learn whether they grew their own crops, he quickly made his way towards them, jumping a short fence and looking over the vegetation, they were well grown, obviously well looked after, Dean made a mental note to update his research notes with information regarding the growing of crops in settlements later before walking out of the patch from the other side, the first thing he noticed was a large tent, it was set up next to a ruined diner, a couple of people rushed inside the tent.

I should probably avoid that many people, no need to draw unnecessary attention. But I do need to know where the others are, and I can't just wander around town all night...

Dean made up his mind and set off towards the tent, As he got closer he could hear the commotion inside, stressed voices barked orders and even from the distance Dean could feel the unspoken worry in the air, the closer he got, the tenser it got until finally he found himself looking inside; the scene was hectic, two people were laid out, one male who appeared to just be knocked out was laid on the ground, another woman was laid on a table, she was coughing heavily, on normal circumstance she would have been pretty beautiful, although at the moment she was covered in blood, a couple of people stood around her, one of them doing various medical procedures. Dean stumbled backwards, away from the tent, no longer wanting to witness the scene. Despite his gut instinct warning him not to he pushed into the tent, walking up next to the bleeding woman and a couple of the others before digging into his backpack and pulling out a bottle of purified water. The doctor that was working on her called her Brandy, an unusual name to Dean. He quickly unscrewed the cap off the bottle and shakily wiped some of the blood from her mouth before pouring a small measurement of water down her throat, she coughed once again, but this time there wasn't as much blood. Dean looked at the doctor nervously, barely muttering.

"Sorry, I don't have a clue what to do." He frowned, sadly. Digging back into his backpack and pulling out a syringe of Med-X and a small but thick blanket. "Here, you can use these for her comfort or... whatever, I've got to go, I'm sorry." Dean mumbled, backing out of the tent and backing off into the darkness before collapsing against the rubble of the ruined diner, holding his head in his hands and being overwhelmed with various emotions, one of them already being guilt over leaving the tent and the doctor with the desperate situation. Thankfully, before he could dwell on them any longer a voice caught his attention, back on the road he made out the backs of a couple of his group, he recognized Mr Tate, he was standing at the back of the group, there was something wrong with his posture, he wasn't standing still even though the group wasn't moving and his back was uncharacteristically slouched, the posture someone got when they were nervous or scared. Deans mind immediately flew with thoughts of Pini screwing up and before he could think logically he was jogging up to the small crowd, it was only as he got closer that he realized what was happening, Pini had his gun aimed at a small girls head, and a few armed wastelanders were standing opposite, a couple of them holstering their guns. Dean finally reached the group, a couple of them turning to see him.

"Whats going on?" Dean spoke, too drained of emotional sadness at seeing the little girl with a gun to her head to give any more effort or emotion into what he was saying... What could he say? Pini was a real bastard, but this was a step up even for him.

[Matthew Aaron Evans]

Calypso - Actually being kinda nice - Evening

Calypso remained focused solely on this, Mr. Pini, not paying the others any attention what so ever. If his finger so much as twitched, she would relieve his arm the task of holding his hand. She calculated his possible actions, which were interrupted as the attractive red headed girl stepped forward.

"We just don't want to die, we just want some help," she practically blubbered, her voice was sweet, she inhaled deeply before continuing, "I've loved everything about the Wasteland, look at me. I've taken a lot from it, learned a lot from it. The only guy who doesn't like it is our security-man, but I swear to God, he'll behave. This was just a really bad, stressful time. He's just trying to do his job and duty, he wasn't going to hurt the girl - just trying to protect us. You have no idea how many people have tried to shoot us, beat us up..."

Calypso's eyes traced the girl's figure, noting that she did indeed 'look' more the part of, or more accepting of the wasteland than the others did. She watched the girl's nervous actions as she palmed her forehead.

"I don't want a fight - we don't want a fight. But we don't want to get killed, either. How do we know you won't shoot us, hurt us, or kick us out the second we give back the girl? Especially our guard? He hasn't been pleasant, but we really, really need the guy - we can't lose him. And he's like family, the racist grandpa thing wasn't just a joke, we've all been together our entire lives." Said the girl, "We can't afford it, is all I'm sayin'."

"She's lying," Aubrey insisted, looking at Biddy in particular with an anolytic and critical eye, suspicion thick in her voice, "I know these people. And they've got a good chance of being those "party-crashers" we've been talkin' 'bout. Probably among the best chance, frickin' honestly, unless this was a hired deal." Aubrey's voice said it all about her feelings towards these people, "We can't just let 'em stay here. Why? So Mr. Pini - their "guard" - or that old guy, or any other one of these guys, have a chance to kill some more innocent people?"

Calypso was about to speak when three m.ore gunshots pierced the air from the tent, her eyes remained on Pini. "God, no.." Aubrey all but gasped, said asked grimly, "Looks like some more wounds or fatalities for the evening - three shots, a lot of yelling...Someone check Tap's Tent, please? "I'm staying here, with these lying bastards. Not lettin' 'em out of my sight, unless you guys really need me."

"Someone, do check on the tent," Calypso sheathed her short sword, and doused the flame on her shiskebob. Mr. Pini had reluctantly loosened his grip on Tracy, lowering his pistol a little, Calypso sheathed her shiskebob and approached him.

"As you can see," she waved her arms, "you, my not-so-kind Sir, are finding yourself at a severe disadvantage. Might I suggest you listen to this beautiful young woman's pleas." She stepped close to the red head, eyeing her up and down, "I could use such an attractive, verbal young lady such as yourself. If we reach a peaceful agreement, might I have a word with you?"

Calypso turned back to face Pini, she elegantly strut to him, reaching out to touch his shoulder, as she most always does, he raised the pistol quickly. Calypso did not flinch, instead offering him a sly grin before a shot rand out. In the blink of an eye, Pini's pistol flew from his hand, he retracted his stinging hand.

"Sniper, remember Mr. Pini? May that have convinced you to consider a more...pieceful approach?" Calypso reached for Tracy's arm, "As I have mentioned," Calypso leaned to Pini's ear and whispered, "I, nor my friends here, have no problem taking your lives. This is my last warning, as I am not custom to giving such chances. But, my friend's daughter here is at stake. I can assure you, you will have a safe stay here in Grayditch should you accept my more than generous offer." She leaned back, "and should you choose, not to accept, then, well, you will become a permanent resident. Albeit, in a shallow grave."

Calypso very gently pulled Tracy's arm, "So Mr. Pini, do you accept our hospitality?"

[Elea Rossi]

Bob Dobbs

Greyditch - Evening


"I don't want a fight - we don't want a fight”, the redhead blubbered. “But we don't want to get killed, either. How do we know you won't shoot us, hurt us, or kick us out the second we give back the girl?…”

Bob, his rifle trained on Pini’s face, silently listened to the redhead’s speech. She was clearly terrified as more and more townspeople arrived and the odds got longer and longer for the Vault Dwellers.

Maybe you should have thought of that before you waltzed in here and started taking hostages….not to mention shoot three people who did nothing to you.

“…Especially our guard?”

Well yes, seeing how he most likely shot three people without just provocation.

“He hasn't been pleasant, but we really, really need the guy - we can't lose him”, she continued. “And he's like family, the racist grandpa thing wasn't just a joke, we've all been together our entire lives. We can't afford it, is all I'm sayin'."

Bob wasn’t convinced. It would have been one thing if they had surprised them out in the Wastes and they panicked…but they came into town and started shooting people and taking hostages.

Are they sorry they let things get out of hand…or they just sorry they [censored] with the wrong people?

"She's lying," Clark spat, "I know these people. And they've got a good chance of being those "party-crashers" we've been talkin' 'bout. Probably among the best chance, frickin' honestly, unless this was a hired deal."

I have no doubt you’re right about that. Stupid is as stupid does. Clark doesn’t seem to like them much…Jeeves was probably right, they threw her out into the World.

“ So Mr. Pini - their "guard" - or that old guy, or any other one of these guys”, she continued, “have a chance to kill some more innocent people?"

Before anyone else could speak, more pistol fire came from behind them.

"God, no.." Clark groaned, "Looks like some more wounds or fatalities for the evening - three shots, a lot of yelling...Someone check Tap's Tent, please? "I'm staying here, with these lying bastards. Not lettin' 'em out of my sight, unless you guys really need me."

"Someone, do check on the tent," Calypso said as she sheathed her short sword, and doused the flame on her shiskebob. Mr. Pini had reluctantly loosened his grip on Tracy, lowering his pistol a little, Calypso sheathed her shiskebob and approached him.

“I’ll go”, Bob said as he lowered his rifle. “Looks like you have this under control.”

Bob then turned and strode towards the tent. Before he reached it, another shot rang out…this one a high powered rifle. Bob turned to look and saw Pini clutching the hand that he had been holding the pistol with.

"Sniper…remember Mr. Pini?”, Calypso said as if she were chastising a child, “May that have convinced you to consider a more...peaceful approach?"

Bob turned again and ducked into the tent. Inside was a mess. Cole was lying on the floor, his arm bandaged. Over by the bar, Tap was restraining what looked to be Toby. And in the center of the room Cody was hunched over a table working on someone. Nearby, Sue stood, watching and looking as if she was about to cry. As Bob approached, he got a look at who Cody was operating on….it was Brandy.

“What happened?”, exclaimed Bob, his voice full of anguish as he rushed up and took Brandy’s hand, while staying out of Cody’s way. Bob then looked around the room. “Who did this?”, he asked, a hint of anger beginning to form in his voice.

[Mrs shelly Sugarplum]

Jade and Aponi - The Tropical Room - Evening

'Good evening ladies! How may I service you this fine night?' The Mr. Handy asked. Both girls jumped slightly then giggled. The sound of shoes clicking on the floor distracted them, the both looked to see a handsome man in a tuxedo heading towards them.

"Welcome guests! Welcome to the Tropical Room." He nodded gently, approaching them each and kissing each one on the hand and a charming smile. "My, and what lovely ladies indeed. I, I am Mr. Justin Mieux, owner of this nightclub."

"Hello Mr. Mieux, I'm Jade and this is Aponi," Jade blushed, Aponi smiled, not used to this type of greeting.

"I do hope you'll enjoy your stay a-" Mieux paused and looked hard at Aponi, his eyes furrowed in deep scanning making the young tribal's smile go uneasy. "You clean up very nicely, a compliment I've NEVER given to a Tribal, love." His left lip smirked back at his quip. "Love the dress by way, tonight is the opening gala event, so one bottle of wine and a meal of Brahmin Steak in aged seasonings, with a side of Fancy Lad snack cakes are on the house tonight, everything else will cost you afterwards."

"Oh cool," Jade grinned, nudging Aponi with her elbow.

"I do hope you enjoy your meals, if you need anything at all, I'll be out in the front lobby." He walked across the ballroom floor, onto the carpeted aisle to the lobby.

Jade grabbed Aponi's hand and led her to the table nearest the bar, "Free meal and a bottle of wine? This is great!! She sat down and straightened her dress, Aponi sat down opposite of Jade.

"What's up Aponi?" Jade propped her elbows on the table and furrowed her brow.

"I...I guess I thought things would be different here," Aponi scanned the room.

"What do you mean? He seemed sweet, and not to mention, good looking to," Jade smacked her lips.

"Back west, us tribals were always kind of treated...differently. His comment about how well I cleaned up, that type of stuff. There was a lot of predujice out west, we were often treated as lesser people," Aponi looked towards the door where Mieux had went.

"Want me to say something?" Asked Jade with a frown.

"NO, no, don't do that, please. That always led to trouble before," Aponi stopped as the Mr. Handy sat down two plate, steam rose from the thickly cut steaks. It poured them each a glass of wine before placing the bottle atop the table as well.

They both remained silent, other than murmurs about the delicious steak. Aponi pushed a piece of meat on her plate, "Forget about it girl, if he ever does anything, Calypso will hang his balls above the door to this place," Jade leaned in, "In case you haven't noticed, not only is she gorgeous, she's [censored] nuts too."

Aponi giggled and polished off her glass of wine, Jade poured her another. After a few minutes of allowing their meals to settle, Jade jumped up, "Let's dance, just like prewar times."

Aponi gulped down her second glass of wine and stood, "Who's Dean Domino?"

"Hell if I know, but if this is him singing, he's pretty good," Jade wrapped her arm around Aponi's waist adn together the swept around the dance floor.