The REALLY Wild Wasteland. (The Fallout RP!)

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Marlon smiled. "Suits me perfectly m'am. And believe you me, I got a bucket of ideas for that sort of thing to run past you later on." He turned to look as Lucy and Frank entered the room, a small smile playing around the corners of his mouth now that things seemed to be looking up. There were a whole bunch of ways he could screw over raiders and still make cash. Not to mention those outcast goons...Oh this was going to be a very profitable venture.

He couldn't see Frank's face, but he liked to think it was at least displaying an annoyed expression that Marlon wasn't to be executed on the spot. He was however, more interested in the information surrounding Lucy for the time being. Her old man...Enclave maybe? That might be worth remembering for later...

And then the alarm. At least behemoths were stupid as hell. Carrying a bunch of mini nukes? Oh this'd be cake. All you'd have to do is land a good solid hit on one of them to set them all off. It sounded like Frank was planning to do something that Marlon would be more impressed if he didn't add the last part about his almost certain success. If not for the fact that, you know, Behemoths were approaching, Marlon'd be more inclined to amuse himself with the notion of Frank failing if only to see his confidence catch up with him.

Amusements later though. Right now there were (literally) bigger problems to deal with.

He smiled at Lucy. "What say we go vent all that anger of yours at the dummies with the bombs." He retrieved his belongings from the bench where they'd been placed while he was in the cell and loaded up the laser rifle. "I could go for a little bit of mutilated mutie."

"What say we go vent all that anger of yours at the dummies with the bombs."

Marlon's remark had refocused her thoughts somewhat, so with a heavy sigh and a small tired smile, she walked over to help him with his belongings.

That's what it looked like, at least.

Handing him his laser rifle, she whispered just loud enough for him to hear.

"I'm sorry. When we met I was cozying up to you because I hoped you had info on my dad. After I was hurt, I started to like you for realzies. I can't judge you if I don't even know what kind of person my Dad really was" she paused so that the weight of her sincerity would be noticed "My future is still unclear and there's still a lot of shit I have to deal with, but after this fight, I want to know if I have a shot at normal someday."

She crossed her arms and smiled at him, feeling a little better.

"I haven't forgotten my promise to help you out with your new ride and setting up shop. If you'll have me."

Lucy playfully fist-bumping his arm.

She started to prime her rifle, which made quite a few nearby heads turn. "Chill. Sheesh."

Turning to everybody else, but mainly looking at Frank, "I'm ready, just point me in the right direction"

No more restraints

Frank didn't wait for Elder Lyons to approve his plan. He knew her. She would say yes to one of Frank's crazy schemes.
"Everyone meet up in the courtyard for pickup! Let's move."
Frank rushed out the door, stopping only to give Lucy and Elder Lyons a quick slap on the butt. Being back home was bringing out some of Frank's old tendencies.
Frank rushed down to his old lab to pick up some Flamer Fuel, and three mysterious packages. (You'll see)
Frank then rushed back to the courtyard, stopping only to plug in his Flamer Fuel, and to slap a foxy looking scribe on the butt.
"Let's do this."

'Any idea what's going on?' the man with the pretty eyes asked.
Stanley grinned. "Nope!" He studied the trio for a moment. The woman looked dangerous. The ghoul looked... Well, like a ghoul. The man looked friendly enough, though.

"So you three are headed to the Nuka plant? Neat! So are we!" Stanley interrupted them. "Er... I am. I don't know about my friend here. He's chasing ghosts, I think. Dangerous ghosts, even more. Anyways." Stanley clapped his hands together. "It's decided, then. You four put away your weapons, and we all go to the-"

Stanley noticed the other man looking behind them, something up in the air. He turned, and traced the other's line of sight. He didn't see anything. He shrugged, and turned back around.
"Erm. Anyways. We all go to the plant together, and go our separate ways from there. How's that sound?" Stanley grinned around the group. "Good. Settled then. Off we go!"

Stanley turned back around and headed for the plant. The others could follow, or not, as they would.

Leaving Vault 108 Area: An Undertaker and A Mummy Ride a Bike

Squeak! Squeak! Squeak!

The wheels on the bike went round and round, round and round, round and round. At least that's how the song goes right? But they never said anything about the infernal squeaking that you had to endure when you added the weight of a fully grown adult mummy on the front.

However, they were still able to travel at a reasonable pace, Shifty having had to travel while loaded down with materiel and clientele many times. Besides, being an Undertaker is a noble profession in which you bring peace to the deceased, so Shifty was above the petty complaining that seemed to plague those of his generation that was raised in the Wastes.

No, sir, this was a going to be a mighty fine day, mighty fine indeed... that is... if Mumford (He had taken to calling his silent and still living client Mumford) would open his gob and let a few words spill out.

"So Mumford, I was thinking that if we were to talk to the local office of the Brotherhood of Steel, they might, might be convinced to give you one of those 12 gun salutes! Wouldn't that be a grand send off?" Shifty said as the bicycle lazed down the cracked pavement.

"Or perhaps we could talk to someone in Rivet City... give you a funeral at sea? I have always been interested in other forms of burials, not just your run of the mill hole in the ground affairs. I hear that there even a town somewhere 'round these parts that uses the dead to feed some sort of fungus that the townspeople eat. Though, I would definitely hesitate in recommending that as a way to be interred." Shifty continued.

Of course, it was of no issue for Shifty to speak. He had been given the gift of gab after all and his father used to always tell him that waste was the worst thing that one could do.

"Of course... the one post-humus rite that I would never subject any of clients to, without their express permission of course, would be cannibalism. Did you know that the best place to live in these parts... according to the residents at least... if actually populated with inbred cannibals?" The Undertaker continued as they reached the top of a hill and saw some sort of large 5 sided building in the distance.

"Say, Mumford, has anyone ever told you that you, sir, talk too entirely too much? I didn't think so HAH!" Of course there was only so much silence Shifty could take, especially when he was dying of a parched throat.

Oh, Mickey H. Mouse! He was going to miss the cut off for Ms. Nova. He didn't know what consumed him into dragging Mumford with him other than it felt like a good investment in time. If Shifty had left Mumford all alone, who knows what could have happened to the poor fellow. He could have been mutilated, his corpse desecrated, burnt, defiled, necrophiled, turnstiled... that was a new one. The point being, he felt sorry for the linen wrapped lad and thought that perhaps the best thing to do would be to take Mumford with him until such a time as Mumford rejected his services or passed away.

"Ahhh, so... Mumford... now that you're nearing the end of your life... could you tell me if you have any regrets? You can tell me! I'll take your secrets with me to the grave." He said that last part with a chuckle. He loved a little gallows humor every so often.

Oh yes.. I should have explained the destination. They were headed towards the local headquarters of the BoS. The reason? Well as we all know... being a member isn't exactly the safest thing the world and every so often, Shifty did them a solid by talking with their recruits and solidifying their funeral arrangements. Typically it was a waste since recently the BoS members had been coming back in canisters of bright green goo... but one could hope for a mostly intact corpse now and then.

"I do hope for you sake that you were never associated with the Enclave by the way. The Brotherhood doesn't quite get along with those cheery fellows. Now, I do use the term cheery rather liberally for... obvious reasons."

It was at this point that Shifty stopped the bike at the remains of a local diner. It didn't look like much but he needed to sit for a spell. Perhaps Mumford could finally say a word or two?

The light of a new dawn rose over the camp belonging to William, Dudley and (Evan) Ramsey. Yet it was already empty, the three had already left. Ramsey had alerted them to the possibility of toxic rain. Neither William nor Dudley had any wish to be caught in it, though Dudley did think Ramsey was saying it to speed up the journey.

The three of them had instead set off into the dark, towards their goal. Another day of this speed and they could be almost there. With three pairs of eyes potential dangers could be spotted and avoided. It became a matter of point scoring between the three with Ramsey coming out on top. Though William and Dudley both agreed he cheated by insisting on riding ahead.

They passed several travellers on the road and stopped to talk to some of the larger caravans. They provided details of vertibirds watching their movement on certain parts of the road and a weapons merchant told the story of how his friend had been stopped by power armoured soldiers who searched his possessions. Though William had thought the man was on something and decided not to believe everything he said.

Mounting their bikes the trio set off along the lonely road again.

Barry was physically and emotionally worn as he laid in the dirt. He pondered the events of the dream. But, before he made any significant headway a tall man in strange clothing aproached him. The man greeted him and talked and talked and talked. Barry wasn't exactly in a state to deal with this at the moment so he merely remained silent and laid there absorbing only parts of what the undertaker said. The undertaker then dragged him to his bike and sat him on the front of it. Out of pure puzzlement he started to really listen to the man so he could figure out what was going to be done to him. Barry thought to himself"Why is he calling me Mumford? Nice name, but not mine. Wait, he seriously wants to bury me? Maybe I should let him. For the last few days I have been sleep deprived, beaten, stabbed, crushed, ran over, set on fire, and abandoned by I man who I thought was going to be my friend and part of the super team I always dreamed of making.I don't know if I can take anymore of this. I may just be at the end of my rope." So he merely sat there for the fairly long bike ride taking in all the burial types. The bike stopped. "Wait what am I considering? Giving up bringing justice to the wasteland? Just because I had a really vivid nightmare? I'm sure it didn't mean anything. How could I not remember something like that. My brain probably just made it up because I caught fire earlier and my sub-conscious held onto that and turned it into a nightmare. I'm just being silly. Though I should probably stop this guy who is trying to bury me. "MMMMMMMPPPPPPPHHHHHHH!" Barry yelled hoping that the man would pull the bandages off of atleast his mouth.

And things got weirder.
Usually he would have been surprised but with his newly detoxed body and uncanny welcome back to the land of the conscious he couldn't shake the feeling that it was all some kind of extended dream. Honestly that was probably the surest sign of sanity he had left, maybe people who'd lived in DC could meet a living military weapon and an abomination all in the same day and keep stride but Sully was a bit put off. In any case it was probably a very good thing that liberty had shown up when he did because Sully wasn't exactly looking forward to meeting that glowing slab of opaque flesh. Although on the plus the over sized beacon seemed fond of talking a trait that seems to have been lost on all the ghouls around Old Ohney. Channeling the personality of the Drill Sergeant that had been imprinted into the armour he turned to liberty Minor, "Time to do your duty soldier. I need you to relay messages between that creature and myself. Are you up to the challenge?!"
With a clang LM's metallic hand swept up to his head in eerie salute, "Yessir"
Without any further instruction LM trotted off towards the exuberant man and his Brahmin. Sitting a safe distance away from the corona of light pouring from the pair cringing internally as he heard LM introduce himself 'on behalf of America'. It seemed this unbridled patriotism wasn't an issue for the charismatic anomaly as Sully watched the two figures shake hands enthusiastically. With all danger but Rad poisoning gone from his mind he stood waiting patiently to see how LM would handle things.

A Diner Somewhere Near the Citidel

"MMMMMMMPPPPPPPHHHHHHH!"

Shifty paused for a moment. He had been in the middle of some righteous works when Mumford finally decided to say something. He was, at that point in time, holding someone's head, indeterminate age, gender, or anything else other than at one point in time it had been human. In front of him were the 10 or so jigsaw puzzled corpses that belonged to a batch of Super Mutant victims.

"If there's one gripe that I have with Super Mutants is that even though they keep me buried in work... HA! Buried in work... it's their fixation with mutilation." Shifty had said when he came upon the bags of mutilated corpses in the empty diner. He had quickly gone about checking the contents of the bags before emptying them out on the floor of the diner before trying to piece them back together.

When Mumford spoke... well... "MMMMMMMPPPPPPPHHHHHHH!"'d, you honestly couldn't call it speaking since "MMMMMMMPPPPPPPHHHHHHH!" wasn't a proper word (It lacked vowels for Walt's sakes!), Shifty had been trying to match the head in his hands with the headless torsos that were laid out gently in front of him.

"What was that Mumford? You're about to confess to your sins before you depart for the top of the Matterhorn where you will spend an eternity in bliss? Just remember to remain seated please." Shifty said as he walked over to Mummy-Boy and undid some of the bandages that kept him from hearing the words properly.

"I should tell you that I haven't been ordained by any sort of formal organization so what you tell me may or may not help you in the after life." The Undertaker said as he listened closely and as he listened, he placed the two Ceremonial Caps over Mumford's eyes.

"Okay! Shoot!"

Wayne watched as the man he nearly landed on rather
enthusiastically calmed the situation and even got the three
followers to lower their weapons. This guy was quite a smooth
talker in difficult situations by the look of it.

Maybe I should follow suit, at least the guys in this
'Nuka plant' might have some info on Gannon. It can't hurt to
try

'Ok, lead the way' He said rather submissively, placing his
rifle over his shoulder by the strap 'And so you know Happy,
I'm looking for a missing friend, and I think the Enclave are
involved' 

He turned and followed Happy to the building, the three
strangers muttering amongst themselves with only the whirring
of the Robobrain's wheels adding any kind of background
noise.

  As they drew closer Wayne held his hands out slightly,
hoping the people on the roof would see this gesture and not
think him hostile, he glanced to the man, hoping by now he
had noticed the two on the roof, and watched for anyone
coming to the door to greet them. It was only at when they
were a mere few feet away from the main entrance that he
noticed a strange looking carcass half hidden behind an old
truck. It looked like a mirelurk but it had a strange blue
tint to it also...

Perfect, it seems they might have some kind of
infestation, this could be a good bargaining tool to get some
info outta these folk

Nobody is willing to give anything up for free these days,
and as an abomination hunter, Wayne was well suited to
removing 'pests' for settlers, or business people, at a
fairly reasonable price. He fixed his gaze back on the door
and patiently waited for somebody to do something.

Barry was now incredibly frustrated. How was he going to make this man understand him? He looked around for a moment. He then realised what he had to do. He flopped off of the motorcycle onto the ground landing on his shoulder. He spasticly span on his side in the style of Curly from the 3 stooges to get in to the position he needed. He scooted sideways across the ground forcing his knuckle into the dirt. After a bit of this he managed to spell out, "Free my mouth!" across the ground hoping the undertaker would read it and assist him. This caused considerable pain because he unfortunately flopped on his damaged arm so there was a few muffled screams while he spelled out the words. And several muffled screams after.

'And so you know Happy, I'm looking for a missing friend, and I think the Enclave are involved'
Stanley scratched his head as they walked. Or, rather, while he and the other three walked, and pretty-eyes limped along, followed by his robot buddy.
"Happy? Me? Never." He laughed. "The Enclave, huh? There's some scary stories about those guys. I'm glad I've never run into them. I count myself lucky. And yet here you are, hunting them down." Stanley shook his head, then grinned widely. "Weeeelll... If this doesn't take too long for your tastes, I could see about helping you out? I'm always looking for more adventures, and that does sound like an adventure to me."
They approached the door- Stanley still having yet to notice anyone on top of the plant- and Stanley pulled up short in front of the door.
"Alright! I think introductions are in order before we go in. I'm Stanley Jessupt. Who are you guys?"

Jackson began got to the door before turning around, to check on his eerily quiet partner of three weeks. He was... Staring? No, that implies something working upstairs. He was looking blankly ahead, Jackson thought he could even see some drool strands slipping from his lips. Jackson quietly pulled out his knife, just in time for Forests charge, growling like any number of ferals in the metros. Jackson tried to raise his knife, but the older ghoul was much faster than he expected, and he tackled Jackson to the ground.
Jackson couldn't decide between protecting himself or stabbing his aggressor, so he tried a half-assed combination of the two, successfully stabbing his ex-friends hands and leaving a cut on his temple. Unfortunately, Jackson lost some more skin patches to Forests clawing fists. Jackson still managed to push him off, and the creature that was once his friend ran off, into the direction the dull, familiar ache in Jacksons forehead told him too as well.
Jackson sighed, getting himself up and brushing the dirt off of himself.
"This, THIS is why I don't take on partners. Shit." Jackson looked around, noticing something on the ground. He bent over and picked it up.
"Well, it'll sell well, probably." Jackson muttered, examining the Guass Rifle. He put it in the jeeps front seat. He stretched, and hopped into the back of the jeep, putting his newspaper/blanket over him.

Lucy gave Marlon one final pat on the back, to which she received a pat on the ass by Frank.

Under normal circumstances, she would have gotten a little pissed off, but today had been such an emotional roller-coaster that all she could was softly snort with laughter before yelling after him "You're such a gentleman, Frank!"

Her smile faded rather quickly, she said her goodbye's and added another apology to her outburst before heading out ot the courtyard.

The base was a hive of activity, knights readying weapons, suiting up their power armor and scribes following orders.

Lucy stopped by the Med-Wing, laid her hand on Vikki's "I don't know what the hell will happen, V, but I'm scared."

The Brotherhood had brought in Vikki's equipment, she took a few clips that she had bought for her previously at Megaton, shoved it in her backpack and clipped the 10mm SMG to her holster.

"I'm going to need you with me somehow. Love you, Vikki." Lucy laid her own combat knife along Vikki's equipment for when she woke up. The name "Vikki" was crudely scratched into it.

So she had 4 stimpacks, a 10mm SMG and a Gauss Rifle. Plus she had plenty of ammo to boot. If ever there was a point where she was ready, it was now.

Wiping the tears from her eyes, she tried to clear her head of her father, the Enclave, focused on Frank, Marlon and the battle ahead.

Stepping into the courtyard, busy as hell, she found her way to Frank and looked upon the three recent editions to his equipment. "Fraaaank? Mind telling me what you got planned there buddy?"

Lucy started to consider calling for a Brotherhood psychologist...

A Diner Near the Citadel: An Undertaker Listens to a Mummy

Shifty looked in dismay as Mumford threw himself off of the bicycle, started screaming in pain and then wrote something all the while screaming in pain.

"Seriously Mumford... if you wanted me to help you free up your bandages a bit, you could have told me. You didn't have to do... all this... to get my attention because believe me, you have it." The Undertaker said as he carried the wrapped man in his arms and laid him out on an empty diner table.

"Some people have no appreciation for a Good Samaritan." Shifty muttered as he pulled out his dagger and quickly cut away the bandages that covered Mumford's mouth.

"There you go old chap. Now... let me grab a pen and paper so that I can record your last words. Those convulsions didn't look too healthy for you." He said as he grabbed a pen and paper.

Now... there was a bunch of rustling as the Undertaker pulled out a large and heavy looking tome and a pen.

He was ready to record Mumford's last words.

"Ohohoh! I need to get some information... like your religion, age, parents. Oh yeah... what day is it today??" He said looking for his chronograph.

Clearly... this was going to be a challenge for Barry to get a word in...

Wayne couldn't believe his ears, the man was offering to help him after nearly being crushed under a Vertibird and almost getting into a Mexican stand-off. He introduced himself as well, Stanley Jessupt. Something about Stan really pissed him off, but also intrigued him, he was so much like Arcade, then again, he could have some hidden agenda. Best not to jump to any conclusions just yet

Wayne limped over to his Robobrain and pulled down the seat on front, taking a seat to take the weight off his leg, he pulled out a cigarette and a match, striking the match against his rough beard and lighting up. 'Wayne' he replied. 'And for what it's worth, it might be that my friend volunteered, these guys can't be that bad can they?' He pondered his last statement, he hadn't really met any Enclave before, all he knew where shadows of rumours, and what little Arcade touched upon.

'So Stan, I take it your some kind of courier, if this job ain't taking long that is...'

Stanley stared as the man- Stan would never understood how he did it, but he did- lit a match against his beard. He shook his head, deciding to ask later.
'Wayne. And for what it's worth, it might be that my friend volunteered, these guys can't be that bad can they?' the man with the pretty eyes- Wayne, apparently- said, propping his leg up in his robot pal.
"Oh, I wouldn't know. I've never met any. I've just heard some stories." Stanley shrugged. "Not any nice stories, but I guess there's not a whole lot of niceness in the wasteland." Stanley frowned thoughtfully for a moment, before perking back up, almost immediately.

'So Stan, I take it your some kind of courier, if this job ain't taking long that is...' the man said, obviously looking to take Stan up on his offer.
"I have no idea how long it'll take." he grinned widely. "Some fancy-pants ghoul gave me a bunch of caps to come out here. I didn't listen to most of what he said, to be honest. I was staring at his suit." He shrugged again, here, and turned to the plant, studying it. They were still a ways away, but something told him they hadn't gone unnoticed. He simply stood and waited for something to happen.

Barry was prepared to tell him that he wasn't a mummy and had no intention of being burried anytime soon. But he didn't. He didn't want to be alone again. He was randomly brushed off by the Enclave and the dream he had made him feel lonely and he wasn't entirely sure why considering that he didn't believe that the dream had any basis in fact. Barry was going to lead this guy on. It hurt him to do it, but he just couldn't take the chance that this man would pack up and leave. The part that confused Barry the most was that he didn't even know the first thing about this guy aside from him obviously being an undertaker of some sort. But in the end Barry decided to play along, "I'm Barry Allen and..." At this point he realised that he didn't know how old he was. He fished through he memories trying to order them chronologically but he couldn't manage to put together more than the last few months. The rest was a fairly blury collection of battles against nefarious villians and saving people. And what days was today anyway? "I honestly can't remember the answers to the rest of your questions. I must be having sun stroke or something. I just can't remember. I'm sorry."

A Diner Near the Citadel: The Mummy ... isn't a Mummy?

*Scribble Scribble Scribble Scribble * Shifty was writing into the giant tome...

"Barry... Allen... 'scuse me? You can't remember ... anything else? Are you sure? Are you even sure that your name is Barry Allen? That's two first names you know... what kind of parents give their kid two first names..." The Undertaker said absently as he became concerned about the Not-Mummy Previously Known as Mumford.

"Sunstroke... that's not even fatal most of the time. Are you healthy enough to walk?" Undertaker McGee asked as he tucked away the tome and began poking and prodding various parts of the wrapped Barry Allen.

Now it might not have been much but Shifty seemed rather glad that Barry wasn't dying... he'd already buried a guy in Power Armor and a Bunch of Garys and Raiders... he was far too tired to bury another guy.

"So... are you even dying?" Shifty asked as he pulled out a couple of rations, one for himself and one for Barry.

So there they were an Undertaker and a Mummy... could be the start of a beautiful friendship... maybe?

"Erm... I think I should tell you that I already took my fee from your pockets and ... ummm... I don't offer refunds. So... I guess I'll be hanging around you until you die so that I can perform the services that you've paid for."

*urrgh...*

"Crawver's log."

"I have tales to tell. Tales that end here, where more tales begin. Ugh, what does that even mean? I...uh."

"The hours grow more desperate, I have not been able to concentrate on sleep or finding water, not while Udders is beneath some scoundrel's hand and...and not mine. I have grown emaciated, and madnesses gnaw at my temples. Perhaps if I recount my journey here, in the succeeding days I will have the means to trace it again, and somehow rebuild myself, when all is doubtless crumbled and shattered. The face of hope appears more grim to me now than any deaths or diseases, for it means continuation of these...conditions; just Sisyphus, Prometheus...and a Walrus."

"I defied reason in believing that I could somehow follow and find whomever it as that led her away, and even then, there are thousands of brahmin out here, checked and unchecked, and I am not even fully aware of the extent of the world. There isn't even any method of deduction that can prove that she wasn't predated on the...no. No. No. No. No No No No."

"uhh...I had...I had finally managed to separate myself from that drunken loon. His, his fault, it is he that broke my doctor's oath, not me. Not me. It was simple enough, without Udders I traverse the earth with great difficulty; my belly's all cut up, and...y-yes; I simply couldn't keep up with him, and that unexplained compulsion to protect him subsided. He's just an old fool, and there are more than enough of those already, what would the loss of one of them mean? What would any loss mean to me? Nothing, now. Except for her."

"So realising this, in my desperation, I took to the only thing I could think of, a thorough, methodical search. Of the whole blasted city. But...I knew I wouldn't last long enough out there to carry it all out, that hunger, thirst, the sun or the rads would sweep down and gently slit my throat once I came upon the boundary of some clue or some hope. I couldn't rest, do you understand? I've read the WSG, I know that...that you have to keep moving, the devils can only be stymied by constant relocation, they must be at your back to stay alive, that way they're only ever where you once were, not where you are."

"I had to shelter beneath an underpass, when the sun reached it's painful, concentrated apex; but self-preservation would then prove my sudden undoing. I heard it before I felt it. Just another whisper of shifting dust or a rifle-shot somewhere beyond the canyons of architecture, or something burbling up from somewhere subterranean; reduced to a gentle, hushed burst of air. But then the trap-jaws struck, with all the cruelty and sinister efficiency of surgical tools. I howled from the shock of the thing snapping at me, I convulsed and contorted but I had not the hands to pry the damn thing apart; but...God damn if I didn't try. Exhausted and bleeding, I collapsed in a cloud of brick-dust and dry earth, my curses reduced in their volume but heightened in their severity; oh I cursed everything I could find, the sun, the earth and their gods, the trap and the vagabonds that laid it, Abe, the Surgeon, myself, Ud-...damn."

"I made sure to fall so as my vision remained upright. Curiosity decided, in that moment, that I would stare death quite literally in the face. Men came, and women too, ragged and bony, all patchy hair, jaundiced skin and sagging hide coverings. One asked what I was, oh if I could have told him! But what would I say? 'Keyser Soze'? 'Ozymandias'? 'the Vault Dweller'? "

"Hell if I know, who gives a fuck, right? It's meaty, ain't it?"

"'Don't be eating what you don't know what it is' another said, in a clumsy manner, 'That's what the guide says, you all read it'. They left soon after, they didn't even touch the trap, the heartless fiends. I admit that I played dead, and perhaps I wished it too; it's easier to be dead than alive, out here. What a world..."

"Another group came, while I was still aware of my surroundings; the pain of the trap teeth had grown dull and predictable, but still it lay there like a tumour, I had not the will to howl anymore, after all, I can't plead with brute machines. This gathering was much the same in their appearance, the same haggard visages, with both cruelty and desperation upon their faces. These ones had marked themselves, a black 'X' slathered across their heads in some kind of paint; I wouldn't rule out it being caustic, or horrid brands, the elder one's skin told tales that didn't bear hearing. The same debate about the most efficient method for eating me, I cared little for self-preservation at this point, but the prospect of leaving Udders out there - if she was out there - prevented me from drawing any morbid catharsis from their talk. The elder drew a long, serrated blade from a sheath on his hip; I could see the thing's teeth clearly, even with my clouding senses, the thing would penetrate smoothly, but be drawn out like a ratchet. I was not sickened. Only waiting."

"Fortune intervened, however, and they took to their heels at the sounding of a series of dull, thudding noises from further away. It was now that my senses slipped further away; sensitivity was fighting a losing battle up my spine, and my vision was blurred, my hearing remained, but voices and sounds echoed and pulsed through my brain painfully. Now a third ground approached; thankfully, they did not speak, at least, no utterance that I could interpret. Their skin was...different. The sun still occupied it's peak, and the rays reared up about them, shooting off piercing glares; I couldn't see their faces. This was a mercy. One of their number crouched over me, and rummaged in the pockets of my coat. I saw no face, even at these quarters; some weird geometry of physiognomy, one elongated eye of deep black, and a hissing circular snout, and nothing there twitched or convulsed. It was uncomfortably calming. Though their speech was masked by my failing senses, I managed to discern a few words in the sea of static, '..waste...ammunition...heads...'

"Time passed, and I lay. I thought of nothing."

"Now a fourth group approached. It was inevitable."

"'Fishy...Fishy done been kitched one too many times, huh. Well, don't you worry none, Tiger, Abe's gon' share his reserve with yis. Now don't you go fergettin', now Abe done you a favour...'"

"No, Abe, no, don't you come near me with that stuff...don't...you son of a...you..."

"...Udders..."

"We have resumed the search."

Of course, you have to wonder how it is that a man like Dan could have pulled off the helmet of a soldier whose powersuit was hermetically-sealed, but then this was also the mountain of a man who was challenging a whole load of said soldiers with a FRICKING HAMMER...so perhaps it was possible, after all. Honestly, it was quite impressive how he was acquitting himself, so much so that David lit up a cigarette to watch. However, it was over already when two of the soldiers had him from behind after he single-handedly demolished Scotty's two Sentry-Bots and knocked out a soldier that had shot him in the back. They had gotten him to stop fighting, and then brained him before he could deliver a corny line. This, however, got under Mr. Scott's skin. He stood up from his work, went over to the soldiers, and swatted them both in the head.

FalloutScott: I wanted to have a word wi' him! How's he going to tell us who sent 'im now?!

Soldier: Oh, uhhh...oops.

He received the swing of an Uber-Sledge that sent him careening across town!

FalloutScott: We treat people with hammers better where I'm from!

FalloutDavid: Where exactly IS that?

FalloutScott: Mind yer business! An' help me move this character.

Time passed, and Dan was painstakingly shifted from his current location to...here, outside of town, while he was out cold and unaware. When he came to, there was a Vertibird nearby and he was wrist-tied, sitting on the ground. Before him stood the un-armored FalloutDavid. The rest were nowhere in sight. Behind him, Vertibird propellers were revving up as he held out a leather pouch jingling with caps...

FalloutDavid: Now, this is all the money Niska gave us in advanced. You bring it back to him, tell 'im the job didn't work out. Now, we don't want anymore assassins comin' after us. You explain that to him. That's best for everyone involved, okay?

WHAT?! But that's- Wait- Who- What in the hell is going on?!?!?!!

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Situations involving the three and their ride through the Capital Wastelands were mostly uneventful for the most part, but after the tale of the men in armor searching people and their possessions, they came upon a different fellow. He was a haggard merchant who was more than a little jumpy. Evan slid some caps his way for a couple of things to get his mind set to talking and the boy spilled what he knew.

Merchant: So yeah, it's like the man said on GNR. It was raining last night, even storming! You boys seemed to miss it, I'm guessing, but I swear to you it was doing so, and get this! It was PURE WATER, no toxicity! I'd have bottled and sold it if I dared to, only...

Evan: Only what?

Merchant: The ghouls around here have been acting strange, more and more of 'em getting kinda' loopy in the head, even the ferals. Last night, I saw a bunch of 'em just standing in the rain, ferals and lucids alike, and...I...what I saw...

Evan: What was it? What did they do?

Merchant: They didn't do anything... IT did.

Evan only stared at him at this point. He wasn't making much sense, even to an educated man.

Merchant: Sorry, sorry... Just, it was empty space in the middle of 'em, and then it was there...just for a second! There and gone again, with a long robe on and a stink of the sea. Thought it might've been one of them Hubologists from backk West, but I didn't think so... You boys be careful 'round here, okay?

There had been something up with the ghouls around here for a while now, but this...was something more concrete, even if it WAS kind of insane.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

"...it is good thing, that your redness is merely a coincidence. We must confound the Commies at every turn!"

Liberty Minor appeared to be doing well on his first diplomatic mission that didn't involve stuff exploding. The Red Guy with the brahmin appeared to be drawn to the wandering ghoul-march, but his attention was fixed enough with those glowing whites to speak...sort of.

LM: My current CO wishes to know your intentions in this area. Do you have anything to share on this matter?

"I was...once a maaannn... Once a leader...of meeennn..."

LM: I see. What army was it?

"COBRAAA!!!"

He did a search on this, and turned up...TERRORISM!! LM took a fighting stance!

LM: You are hereby ordered to stand down all combat capabilities! You have 15 seconds to comply!

"The war...is over..."

The robot stopped.

LM: ...what?

"The war...the war...the terrible war..."

He looked directly at the robot now.

"We are all redundant parrrtsss... Yet...we ssstill keep going...going...to the end..."

LM: The war...is over?

No, don't listen to him! It's a communist trick! General Ripper told me so!

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Forest hadn't been EXACTLY going feral. Something had been odd in this. Yes, he did growl, but he also shouted that the Ancient Ones were claiming the sky or some bollucks like that. In short, he wasn't just feral-ing himself. He was also a nutter. And when he ran off, he began to speak in tongues. That done, he decided to go get some sleep...in the jeep. Fair enough. Time passed...and there was neither any known activity from the building-that-was-actually-a-robot nor the buildings to the south that had been...odd. However, and most-unexpectedly...it began to rain. It was lightly at first, then more potent, and...hers's the kicker...this water wasn't even toxic. Pure water. Pure water gurgling over a thirsty land that needed- Waaaiiit a minute... That's not the sound water makes over dry land. And if Jackson were to look around the jeep, he would find that there was a figure in a long and wet cloak, making said gurgle-noise about ten feet away...

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

For the record, the Enclave had been watching the situation with Barry ever since Bob left. Needless to say, they were in the aisles with laughter over this one. #83 wanted to transform their records of this guy into a full motion picture simply titled "BARRY!". Since they were secure in a diner somewhere around the DC Ruins, not much was happening around them beyond the wheeze of a flying Eyebot and also some distant explosions... Wait, explosions? Explosions meant trouble! Trouble meant villains! Villains meant A CRY FOR JUSTICE! THIS LOOKS LIKE A JOB FOR THE FLASH!

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Wearing a bandolier of mini-nukes IS a stupid idea, hence why giant super mutants were doing it, but it also had a kind of intimidating merit as well. It said OH SO MUCH about the people involved. They were insane. They were tossing around anti-personal nukes at opposition on the way to their target, nukes whose rads were immediately healing them of any wounds suffered by the BoS members that were trying to handle the Behemoths on the way to the citadel. It was all intimidating because...while it WAS insane and kind of stupid...the bastards got right in your face and you couldn't risk their large arsenal going off with you right beside it unless you felt keen on dying. This may be why the leader had that giant horse. He could keep ahead of the other two easily. And with that animal and his hammer, he was actually collapsing some of the buildings. True, this was all rundown territory, but it happened.

Meanwhile, preparing for their arrival... Sarah had indeed gone with Frank's plan. It was crazy, but it could also work and save alot of manpower. She ordered them to give Frank what he needed, though his sister wasn't back yet. She also ordered him to bring that bird back in one piece or she was going to make him put it back together with his bare TEETH. Just reminding ole' Frank who was in charge and NOT to call her 'Sugar-Tits' on official business. Marlon would be pulled to defend the walls at one of the key defense points while Lucy apparently wanted to go with Frank on the vertibird. And then, all was quiet until...

...THEY ARRIVED! A hand, no two hands, reached up on a couple of buildings as the two nuking Behemoths climbed up on top, the two of them standing there as a dilapidated building collapsed between them to reveail the Behemoth Onna Horse. They began to pull out makeshift slings - the use of which would allow them to attack the Citadel like a pair of self-loading trebuchets - and got to work launching! The Nightmare padded the ground noisely.

"ONWARD, OLD SPICE! TODAY, THE CAPITAL... TOMORROW, THE WORLD!!!"

Onward came the mutant knight upon his irradiated stead, and so began the seige of BoS central...

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

And back at the Nuka Cola Factory...

Well, let's take this conversation step-by-step, shall we? Everyone's a might bit jumpy and the only real cool head around here has a sniper and a bunch of paid guards watching their every move. So, from the top...

'Listen guys, my new friend here wants to know why you guys were following him at a distance, one of you looking for a date or something?'

Twig: Eh heh heh...very funny. No, we have a job at the factory to get to. You know...real work?

Ben: If you can call what his addiction-feeding as work.

Twig: That's a fringe benefit!

"So you three are headed to the Nuka plant? Neat! So are we! Er... I am. I don't know about my friend here. He's chasing ghosts, I think. Dangerous ghosts, even more. Anyways. It's decided, then. You four put away your weapons, and we all go to the-"

There was a pause as several people were looing up at a something-or-other up by the plant. The first was Wayne, the second was Stan, and the third was Scar, who made a show of slinging her laser rifle.

Scar: We're putting guns down now.

Ben: We are?

Scar: Yes.

She nodded towards the observing pair and in fact the approaching guards.

Scar: We are.

Ben: Oh, I see.

Ben lowered his rifle and Twig had a moment of cluelessness about him before Scar pointed it out blatently and he got it, lowering his gun as well.

"Erm. Anyways. We all go to the plant together, and go our separate ways from there. How's that sound? Good. Settled then. Off we go!"

They got maybe ten feet before their escort bade them to follow them into the building.

'Ok, lead the way. so you know Happy, I'm looking for a missing friend, and I think the Enclave are involved.'

Conversations between Stan and Wayne continued as they were taken inside the building, where Estabahn's man, Mick, was coming down stairs to handle things personally as a young man with black hair, his own sniper rifle, and sunglasses stepped out of a room.

Mick: Niko, take over up top. The boss-man told me to handle this.

Niko: You got it.

The young sniper headed up the way Mick just came down as the second-in-command clapped and rubbed his hands together.

Mick: Okay... Mr. Twig, Mr. Ben, and Miss Scar - I am to give you some instruction on the workplace before you start your jobs here. Mr. Stan, the boss-man will want to see you in his office. And...

He stopped at the man riding the robo-brain with a confused look.

Mick: What the fuck, mate? A thousand ways to get across the waste and you took the slow boat to China? Who are you? What are you doing here? Don't you know that you don't buy at the source, but at the market?

This was gonna be a looong day...

"What the fuck, mate? A thousand ways to get across the waste and you took the slow boat to China? Who are you? What are you doing here? Don't you know that you don't buy at the source, but at the market?" the man- evidently some sort of commander, judging by his ordering men around and incessant swearing- said to Wayne.

"Oi, he's a new friend. Whatever the job, he stays with me. I talk, he shoots things. He's very good at shooting things. Just look at him." Stanley said, bending the truth a bit. Certainly, Stan had decided they were friends and would work together. Wayne had yet to be informed of this development, however.

"Wayne, would you mind waiting here? Fancy-pants probably would not like both of us barging in. Especially not with you bristling weapons and oozing murder." He laughed. "Now, where's your boss?" he said, turning back to the commander. "I want to get started. Never much cared for this part of D.C. Sooner I get done, sooner we get to wander off to hunt shadows and ghosts."

Barry gave a sigh of relief towards the undertaker. He wasn't going to be alone again. Suddenly he heard a series of explosions in the distance. He was filled with excitement "I hear danger. PEOPLE TO SAVE! Villians TO VANQUISH! Come Undertaker we have hero stuff to do!" He ran towards the explosions. Or atleast thats what he tried to do. He fell slamming his face full force into the ground chipping a tooth. In the excitement he forgot that most of his body was still wrapped up and covered in splints. He spat out blood across the ground infront of him before saying, "Hey... can you cut me out of this?" Then he said looking at his now blood stained bandages, "Except for the left arm. That thing is barely in one piece. Fought some giant eels that came off of a massive mutant thing. Anyway, please hurry there are people in danger."

Groggy Jackson looked around confused, and slightly frustrated from his naps interruption, before noticing the silhouette of a man who either had rabies or was using an absurd amount of mouth wash. Then again no one gave a shit about their breath anymore... Jackson shook his head, raising his rifle slowly, aiming for the mans head. Jackson rolled down the window, and said most eloquently,
"Who the fuck're you?" He spoke loudly enough for the man who refused to swallow to hear, but not quite a yell. Didn't want to piss off Building-O-Tron 5000 (Now with more painful death). Jackson kept switching between staring at the man who didn't quite like what he was tasting, but didn't hate it enough to spit it out, and the lovechild of Liberty Prime and the Empire State building, using the window to prop his gun up.

A Diner Near the Citadel: An Undertaker Smiles

Mum... Barry's words brought a smile to Shift McGee's face as the Undertaker realized just how lucky he was to have found this ... Hero. It wasn't that Shifty was in any personal need of a person of the hero persuasion but, in all honesty, he smiled because he knew that most Hero types didn't last long in the Wastes.

Plus, there was the matter of the explosions in the distance indicating that somewhere, somehow, someone was in need of his ... services.

"Well, Barry. I guess we had better get going then. Oh yes, your bandages. Silly of me to not have cut you out of them, have I mentioned that you looked like a mummy, I was about to bury you until you decided to speak up. You may want to do that the next time you find yourself alive and in the presence of an Undertaker. There's only so much we can do to verify that you're alive you know... the deluxe burial package requires that I actually check your pulse before I bury you... the basic package... well... I just kick you to make sure you don't get up." The Tall Undertaker said as he cut Barry free of his bindings.

"There now, isn't that..." There was a pause for a moment where Shifty took in the condition of Barry's wounded body.

"Better?"

Now, Mr. McGee was no medical expert, well... he was in a way... but that's another story for another time. Anyways, back to Barry's wounds... he looked like chiseled spam, or worse, he looked like someone had taken chiseled spam and used a cheese grater on it and that was his honest medical opinion on the matter.

"So... Barry... shall we depart? I must apologize for not having additional transportation for you but you can feel free to ride on my handlebars." Shifty offered amiably as he mounted the old bicycle.

*CHING CHING!*

It should be mentioned that the bicycle had a bell... and how much did Shifty enjoy the sound of the bell?

*CHING CHING!*

A fair amount would be a conservative estimate. With that, the two headed towards the sound of the explosions; Barry hoping to get some heroing done, Shifty hoping to get some burying done. Quite the dynamic duo, right?

"Fraaaank? Mind telling me what you got planned there buddy?"
"All good things in time."
The Vertibird touched down in front of them, and a familiar voice came from inside.
"Well, if it ain't Rosie the Riveter! What's'a'matta, all the easy living in Rivet city get dull?"
That was most certainly Paladin Gilford piloting, as Frank had requested.


Frank hopped in the Vertibird, and helped Lucy in.
"Look Annie, I know you're bitter about being dead below the waist, hence why you fly this thing instead of walking like the rest of us, but no need to take it out on me." Frank turned to Lucy. "I suppose introductions are in order. This is Paladin Andrew Gilford. We've been pals since we were little. He may be a jackass, but he's my jackass."
"Funny, I'd describe you the exact same way Frank. So what's the plan, because I don't like going up against those things without a plan!"
Frank motioned to his packages.
"Ah, so we're going with the craziest plan, good to see you haven't changed since you had your breakdown. I'm surprised you stuck with this whole never take off your armor insanity, considering how nuts you get when you don't sex something or jack off."
The Vertibird took off.
"Actually, I factored that in when modifying this armor to be lived in. My "Laser Rifle" is kept in a lubricated sleeve, that handles things periodically. ...Speaking of which, when was the last time you got someone to service your weapon?"
"Too long."
Just like old times.

A Vertibird. Was this just a sick joke from the Enclave? Guess the standard issue black power armor will have to wait.

With the help of Frank, Lucy climbed into the Vertibird and took a seat among Frank's things.

This is Paladin Andrew Gilford. We've been pals since we were little. He may be a jackass, but he's my jackass."

"Lucy Black, it's a pleasure, Paladin Gilford." She gave the pilot a cute salute and a smile.

After listening in on their little exchange, Lucy wanted to be included and chimed in sheepishly "Frank and I have known each other for a few days now and, uhh, he may be a badass, but he's my badass...?" she stopped herself from causing further personal embarrassment.

She took this opportunity to let her hair loose. It seemed more dramatic with all the wind swishing about as she mused to herself. Snapping back to reality, she had just heard about Frank's suit modifications.

Never before has the palm of her hand hit her face so hard. She proceeded to groan "Uggghhhh, men! I miss Vikki."

She cleared her throat rather loudly, but she still couldn't hide the smirk on her face "Tactics, gentleman, let's focus on the tactics of our current situation!".

Lucy turned to Frank. "Now I'm itching to snipe those mini-nukes and just generally make stuff go boom, and no it isn't a symbolic representation of my hidden desires related to climaxing...although it has been awhile...I'm wondering about the radiation left over when the bombs start flying, you guys got power armor, I'm a little more squishy."

She paused for a moment and a mischievous grin formed "Either way, I really need to wreak some havoc." and with this she extended her fist for a fist-bump.

What the fuck, mate? A thousand ways to get across the waste and you took the slow boat to China? Who are you? What are you doing here? Don't you know that you don't buy at the source, but at the market?

"That how you treat all your visitors? And there I was thinking you needed some help with something, like say a mirelurk problem" he said, nodding toward the carcass in the parking lot. Standing up to talk to the guy ace to face, and as a show of defiance against his disability he walked up to the man. "Truth is I'm here with my buddy Stan, y'know, keeping the guy from harm?"

Wayne, would you mind waiting here? Fancy-pants probably would not like both of us barging in. Especially not with you bristling weapons and oozing murder

A long held back laugh cracked from Wayne, he had spent so much time creating this tough guy facade he never got to meet anybody who would mock it.

"Sure thing Mr Stan" he replied, hoping to make a game of mocking the guard and his militaristic persona.

Wayne watched as the man led Stan away, with the 3 musketeers in tow, leaving him stood with another guard who had appeared as Leutenant Bossy left the room.
Taking one last drag of his cigarette, he pulled it from his mouth and flicked it at the guards feet, looking him right in the eye, as if the stare was enough to stop the man from breathing. "And just what the f**k are you looking at?" Causing the man to gasp in fear, a bead of sweat now running down his temple.

Wayne turned away and sat back on his Robo-Seat, fishing out another cigarette and waiting for Stanley to wrap up his business with 'Fancy-pants'

"Frank and I have known each other for a few days now and, uhh, he may be a badass, but he's my badass...?"
"It's good to know you care."
"Uggghhhh, men! I miss Vikki."
"Hey, you'd go insane if you didn't have a means of dealing with that for a whole year. It seemed like the practical solution."
"Tactics, gentleman, let's focus on the tactics of our current situation!".
"Don't worry, I've got it all figured out."
Frank opened the first two packages, revealing some odd-looking grenades.
"These beauties here, release a lot of really slippery liquid, we're going to drop them between the behemoth's and the Citadel. It'll be like that pre-war movie, Home Alone."
Frank handed Lucy one of the boxes, and threw a grenade from his box out his side.
"Now I'm itching to snipe those mini-nukes and just generally make stuff go boom, and no it isn't a symbolic representation of my hidden desires related to climaxing...although it has been awhile...I'm wondering about the radiation left over when the bombs start flying, you guys got power armor, I'm a little more squishy."
Frank threw one of the grenades out the side.
"The radiation shouldn't reach us at this height, and Andy is a good enough pilot that he should be able to dodge any mini-nukes that come at us. Besides, there's plenty of rad-away back at the Citadel. And if it's been that long, screw Andy when we get back."
"I certainly wouldn't mind!"

Burt: We should be secure here, thanks to the foundation, and they may even move on with the herd to keep taking their numbers, but...and this is the big but...I think for the good of the people in this world, we should take them out before they do some serious harm.

Well, this did present quite a problem. This job was suppose to be simple. But roadblocks tend to pop up from time to time. Nothing to do then but roll with the punches. There were two solutions here. Try to outrun those things and move on, or wipe them out then and there.

Going around was risky. It presented too many unknowns. It was likely best to nip this one in the bud so she could move at her lesuire.

"Hmm. Alright then my man. You got a plain against these things or what? I'm don't need to be going off half cocked" She looked back out the building and watched for the serpentine creatures to show themselves again. Humans, she could handle. But things like these got messy.

Lucy was handed one of the boxes containing grenades she had never seen before, she followed Frank's example and threw one out her end of the Vertibird. She could see just enough as they ascended higher, the grenade made a small pop and spurted a surprisingly large amount of liquid considering it's size.

"Thank the Brotherhood for compression, right?" Lucy continued "Good idea, this should screw up that horse's movement and the behemoth's...they aren't exactly known for their grace."

Lucy took aim and threw another grenade further, tying to create a good dispersion pattern on the ground "The liquid, is it flammable, toxic or is it just slippery? Because if it's flammable..." she turned to Frank with a sadistic smile that should not be joyful.

She continued with her task, getting used to the swaying of the Vertibird, she was surprised at how well she was handling it, considering that she had never been on one. "You mean you and I aren't going on the ground? That's why I asked about the radiation...I'm out by the way."

She motioned to her empty box, closed it and tucked it under the seat.

She addressed Frank with a few questions since she couldn't stay quiet for too long "Where's Marlon stationed, is he going to become a frequent guest of ours?" she made her apologies to Marlon earlier, it wasn't perfect, but she didn't feel guilty about that at least.

She genuinely wanted to know, but this was deliberate.

"Did you hear what happened to Vikki?"

She started to find the slight swaying of the Vertibird slightly comforting to which she continued her final question.

"The Elder, my little tantrum is going to put me on the naughty list is it?"

Turns out Lucy was feeling rather nervous and the anger started to bubble under the surface when she was left to her thoughts.

"One last thing...What the Elder said about my Dad being associated with you guys, did you know?

"The liquid, is it flammable, toxic or is it just slippery? Because if it's flammable..."
"Sad to say, it's just slippery. It was developed pre-war for non-violent crowd-control purposes. Unless you count smelling awful in a wasteland where most things smell awful anyway as a special property, it has none. It also dissolves after a few hours of exposure to oxygen. Still smells terrible for a few days though."
Frank threw his last slick grenade, and tossed the box out the side.
"You mean you and I aren't going on the ground? That's why I asked about the radiation...I'm out by the way."
"The plan is for you to snipe the nukes from up here, but I'm going to ground."
"What he fails to mention, is he's going to ground the crazy way. We're not landing. That's what the third package is for. Power armor is too heavy to work with regular parachutes. We're going to do a maneuver we call the "Damocles run", it's clearly the work of a madman."
"Where's Marlon stationed, is he going to become a frequent guest of ours?"
"No clue."
Frank opened the third package.
"Did you hear what happened to Vikki?"
"Nope."
Frank took something out of the package.
"The Elder, my little tantrum is going to put me on the naughty list is it?"
"Probably, but don't worry; I live on her naughty list. I had to be "Punished" a few times, but I enjoyed it nonetheless."
Frank clipped the contents of the package onto his armor.
"One last thing...What the Elder said about my Dad being associated with you guys, did you know?
"I didn't, I would have told you if I did."
Frank leaned out the hatch.
"Now if there aren't anymore questions, I've got work to do."


They were over the Behemoth on the horse now. Frank jumped out the side.

Lucy rushed over to Frank's side of the Vertibird and shouted to him "Kick some ass! And bring me back something shiny!"

"Knowing Franky, he'll haul back the entire behemoth, keep the Knightmare and give it you as a damn pony."

"Now I really want a pony for some reason." Lucy muttered in agreement.

Lucy sat down, fastened her seat-belt tightly so she had a relatively more stable firing position and spoke to Paladin Gilford to ease the tension "It's just you and me now, Mr Pilot. Keep this thing steady and you're getting a big hug from me!"

"Do I, err, get a bonus if I fly really well?...Because piloting is not the only thing I'm good at, you know! I've got this Bobblehead collection back at the citadel!"

Lucy couldn't help but raise an eyebrow and chuckle slightly "My dear sir, are you perhaps trying to court a respectable lady of the community, such as myself, with your Bobbleheads?"

The paladin cleared his throat and muttered something about focusing for the moment, apparently Lucy had gotten him slightly flustered. Cute.

She proceeded to prime her rifle and scouted the area through her scope. They were circling over the Behemoth on the horse, huge mutant, huge horse with a huge weapon, compensation much?

"Come on, come on, where are you..." she followed the trajectory of two mini-nukes to two other behemoths, apparently they hadn't gotten very good at throwing them just yet, so they were way off target of hitting anything. Still a formiddable sight though.

"Alright, taking the shot!" Lucy honed in on the bandoleer on the mutant closest to her, just as she pulled the trigger, the Vertibird swerved as they descended and curved around to face more of the battlefield, sending her shot flying into god-knows-where.

"Shit! Keep this goddamn thingy steady and I'll even throw in a kiss when this is all over!" Her lady facade had not lasted long as she reloaded. "I've never been on a Vertibird before." she admitted sheepishly, going slightly pink.

"I'll protect you little missy, unlike Franky, I have a more delicate touch. Not a womanly touch, not that there's anything wrong with a woman's touch, I'm sure you have a great touch...-"

Lucy couldn't help but turn to the pilot in utter bewilderment.

"-...I'm referring to the way you handle your Gauss Rifle! Good form and posture and -...So, err, cute girl, big gun...I can show you my gatling gun when we get back, it -"

"Gilford. SHHH! I'll admire your bobbleheads and your gatling gun as long as you want, but I need you to concentrate and let me focus." she paused and blushed "That wasn't innuendo or anything! I'll throw in an extra kiss if you don't comment."

He didn't comment.

Alright, Lucy refocused on the bandoleer containing the mini-nukes and fired a shot instinctively. Unfortunately, she failed to take into account wind velocity and direction, so her bolt veered off slightly lower and to the left and nailed the behemoth in the knee which caused it to stagger, trip and roar in surprise.

"Holy crapola, somebody get me a Nuka-Cola! Frank gave my rifle some oomph!" Despite missing her intended target, she squeeled with girlish joy as she did some damage.

This gave her a good opening.

"Nice shot, Miss Black!"

"I missed though, keep us steady like this, I just need to adjust my aim a little off center, up and to the right and I'll hit the mini-nukes strapped to it's chest."

That was the theory at least, Lucy was all lined up for her next shot, she was about 70-80% sure she had this next one right.

"Hold thumbs for me, Gilford!"

She pulled the trigger and hoped for the best. She watched as her magnetically-propelled slug flew towards her target.

Frank was falling from a very high point, while listening to some obnoxiously catchy music.
This falling gave Frank time to ponder the lyrics. "If I could fall into the sky, do you think time would pass me by"? What is that supposed to mean? Does it mean that if gravity were to go screwy, time would also go screwy? Damn that catchy piano riff!
Frank pulled a cord on the object attached to his belt.
A series of balloons engulfed Frank, as he braced for impact with the ground.
Frank bounced upwards, towards the mutant cavalier, pulling again on the cord for the balloons to detach, and turning on his jets to fly towards the mutant's head.
"Yee-haw!"

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