Vertibirds huh? One of them'd be mighty useful in the future if Marlon could get his hands on one...Right now though it was time to focus on the task at hand. Putting down a king-size idiot.
He smiled grimly from his vantage point on the walls as he heard the other bandoleer buffoon suffer the explosive gutblast he was about to do his best to unleash on its fellow. "Alright ugly. I'm sick of you miserable sonsofbitches.."
Propping his gun on the edge of the wall's ledge, he fired a short burst of lasers toward the chest of the behemoth, ducking slightly after it. As much as he'd enjoy watching, it probably wouldn't be a great idea to be sticking your head over the wall when the boom went off.
THe first burst didn't catch, though it might have irritated it some. Hard to tell with those things. The second burst though...
As he ducked back down behind the barrier atop the wall, he grinned as the gratifying sound of a bandoleer detonating and a roar of a creature that just had the surfce of its chest removed by multiple mini-nuke detonations. That's the good stuff.
Frank sped down the hill towards the Behemoth on his recently purchased bike. The bike continued to creak from the weight of of his armor.
"Round 2 asshole!"
Suddenly, the man who tried to rob Frank rolled ahead of him in a tire, stumbled out, and pointed his gun at Frank.
[Perception]Even if he were in a state to aim, after that trip...
[Armor 100/30][Success!]...It's not like a revolver could stop him.
Frank rode past the dizzy lunatic.
Something was wrong with Frank's armor. Something felt off.
A brown sludge was leaking from his armor's left butt-cheek. The armor's plumbing was leaking.
The song Frank was playing devolved into a garbled mess. There go the speakers.
"Oh, now it's on!"
With the armor damaged, Frank's hallucinations could be heard again.
"I hope you have a plan."
"The best plan Grandpa."
"From what I can tell, all your plans are some variation on punching things.
"Like I said dad, the best plan."
"I believe in you Ladybug."
"Thank you master."
Frank hoped his rockets still worked, and flipped the switch...
Frank rocketed around the slippery mess he had made with Lucy (Haha, innuendos!) which only succeeded in slowing the mutant cavalier down.
Frank rode next to the horse's right foreleg, matched speed, and jumped off the bike, grabbing one of the spikes.
The bike was crushed under the horse's right rear leg. Looks like those 202 caps were just the rental price.
[Endurance]Frank had a long climb ahead of him.
Barry replied to Gilford "Oh yes, Almost forgot these aircraft don't fly themselves. Must take a lot of skill. I certainly couldn't do it. Though I'm afraid I don't have any caps to give you to fix that window. An enterprising grave digger took them off of me as payment for the burial he planned to give me without asking. I promise you that I'll give you every cap I get until I can get this repaired." He listened to Lucy as she finished speaking. Murdered father? Something it him like a bag of bricks. A memory.
Barry lay on a mattress within a shack that was about as nice as one could expect in the wasteland. He was bundled in various blankets as an uncomfortable cold swept through the building. He shivered as he lay there. A man, the man from the previous dream, less grayed then before sits in a worn prewar chair looking over various traveler's guides and maps he had procured. Barry pestered him constantly about his mother. Who, as many do in the wastes, past away in child birth. He listened the same stories and the very same description of her most every time, but it didn't matter. He loved this woman he never met as if she had died the day before and not ten years ago, before he could even form memories. Barry clung to people no matter how little he knew of them. Because of her untimely demise his father was forced to take care of Barry alone. He stared at these maps and books dreaming of travel and adventure. He was like a dog trapped in a cage. He was constantly restless and spent night after night looking over these now worn documents and staring up at the stars. He loved Barry with all his heart and soul, but he could never get used to this life style. But he withstood it for his son. But he always gave this detached impression to Barry because, mentally, he was never actually with him all the way. He traveled through unexplored lands or across the farthest stars. He barely ate and rarely slept. A dreamer if there ever was one. But every night he would sit next to his son on the mattress and read a comic book with him until Barry finally fell asleep on top of him. His father wouldn't dare move and wake his son. So he would hold him close and stare out the window dreaming while wide awake. Fantasizing about a life where he could have his wife laying in his arms just as Barry was now. Exploring the world together. And growing far older before having their son. When they finally felt like they had seen enough. They would raise Barry properly in a nice settled area before growing into their twilight years together. But all Barry knew at the time was the he was only truly happy when he and his father were reading together. He was sure he would hold onto these memories forever...
Barry awoke from his few second flash back. He processed what Lucy said. "Well obviously i'm..." he looked down and noticed his emblem and been damaged to the point where it appeared to be unrecognizable. "Well its funny you say that I sounded like a superhero because...I am. I'm THE FLASH! My costume has merely been severely damaged. As my EQUAL PARTNER you would be... The Black Death?...Lazer Blast?...or maybe a classic like Power Girl or WonderWoman. I think Power Girl suits you," He said grinning with excitement. A super hero team! FINALLY!
"Like, Flash...The Flash from the comics?" Lucy wasn't sure whether Barry was serious or if he had a light-hearted view of the world. Either way, it brought a smile to her face. "Power Girl huh? I'm flattered, she was one of my favorites...Yeah, I was a comic-book nerd when I wasn't firing a laser pistol and tinkering with junk. Why did you pick that one for me specifically?"
"The Flash and Power Girl, a dynamic and totally awesome duo, if I may so myself." she smiled widely "Although as your equal-rights-partner, I want you to be a little more considerate of your well-being next time. You can do a lot of good, but you aren't going to get far if you don't take a little bit of time to get back on your feet. Pinky promise!!"
She extended her pinky finger accordingly.
"Miss Black, we have another Behemoth down. Blown to hell and back. It seems your time to shine won't come twice."
"Must have been my friend Marlon, told you he would know what to do. Then again, he didn't snipe from an unsteady Vertibird!" Lucy teased.
You're never going to let that go, are you? Tis a shame really, I would have loved to see you work that rifle again. My, erm, Gatling gun, has an interesting firing mechanis- Woah! Turn your attention to the Behemoth and his stead, I may be seeing things here.
Lucy peered through her scope to locate the Behemoth and the Nightmare. Seems like the slick grenades impeded the Nightmare's movement. She tracked Frank climbing the hind leg of the Nightmare, she spotted brown liquid leaking from his backside. "Hey, Gilford, I don't know Frank to be the scared type...but I think he's shitting himself."
She would have commented further, but she spotted another person...a very long person, casually waving to them.
"Hiiiii...." she slowly waved back and muttered to herself, this situation was rather absurd.
Snazzy clothing, she thought, this guy has some style. Although how in the hell did he manage to keep the top-hat on. She liked top-hats. She would march into battle with a top-hat and a monocle if she had half the chance...
"Erm, Flash, is that a friend of yours down there on the Nightmare?" she offered her rifle's scope for a better look.
The Nightmare twitched for a moment, obviously aware of something climbing onto it. Both Frank and this stranger had emerged on the Nightmare's hindquarters, the stranger was too busy waving and subsequently collapsing towards the Behemoth to notice Frank. The stranger had pulled back some material that was covering a bulge, that bulge was a mini-nuke.
She motioned for the stranger to get off the Nightmare, she even pointed at the the mini-nuke and made explosion gestures and then a decapitation gesture after pointing to the Behemoth and then pointing towards her gun.
"Gilford! Please tell me you can get me on communications to Frank's armor, there's a mini-nuke on the Behemoth! I can't fire while he and some other dude is down there. Maybe he can use it to his advantage then."
"Don't worry about it too much Miss Black, if you noticed it, chances are Frank also noticed it as well. Besides, Frank hates having his big battles interrupted."
Jackson had had enough. The thing was just sitting there, after 30 minutes of the SAME. FUCKING. NOISE, he felt he had right to end the fucking things existence.
"Maybe you'll learn to swallow when you get to hell!" He yelled at the thing, letting a 3 round salvo into it's mid section, hoping that was that. He didn't want to sleep any more, and prepared to leave and do... Something. Probably visit the Citadel, sell the Gauss rifle. They loved those damn things, and had enough money. Wouldn't let him join though. Even though he had better knowledge of power armor than some of their Paladins. He sighed, twas a wretched existence, that of a ghoul.
Dan started at the bag of caps with evident greed in his eyes. That bag of caps would be easier money then whatever those raiders had to offer. After all, Enclave soldiers are a bitch to kill with a hammer. Raiders? Generally not so much.
"Niska? Niska." Dan repeated the name a few times. It was unfamiliar to him but there was a bag of caps sitting right in front of him. All he had to do was play along. "Okay. Can do. Job didn't work out. No more assassins. Easy enough message to give. So if you would be so kind as to untie me and I'll get that bag of yummy caps to Niska as fast as a molerat running away from a super mutant. Yes sir. Lickity split. Right to Niska, huh uh," Dan said, his plan, plain as day on his profile.
Barry laughed and extended his finger as he was about to answer all of Lucy's questions, But before he had the chance Gilford interrupted them. Describing a Behemoth with a soiled brotherhood member and a tall man climbing up it.
"Erm, Flash, is that a friend of yours down there on the Nightmare?"
He peered down at the long man for a moment before responding, "yeah I know him. Hes that gravedigger who took all my caps. Not exactly a friend but he seemed mostly harmless. Didn't try to kill me or anything. Which is more than what I can say for most people." He looked at the creature somewhat awestruck. To Barry the creature reached beyond the highest clouds. It's steed was as black as the night and puffed fire and smoke out of its nostrils. The mutant wore a crown of human skulls. None of this was real of course. But to Barry it was as real as himself or Lucy. The wind the was flowing by the vertibird blew through his hair as he peered outside. The stimpacks had fixed his broken nose and some of his cuts, bruises and gashes that stretched across his body from his neck to the balls of his feet. He had a rather heroic look to him when his face wasn't busted up...or on fire. He gave a smile and a thumbs up to Frank not caring whether or not Frank would actually see it. "And this is going to be a heck of a battle. Pardon my languange." He said grinning in anticipation. "Oh, and I did mean Flash from the comic books. Always made me a little bit taller and my hair a little bit lighter. But I never had a problem with creative license. I picked PowerGirl because in her first adventure she helped out The Flash. And besides that she is a smart and strong woman," he said staring out of the vertibird with his wide blue eyes.
The Enclave soldiers looked at one another and then David tossed the caps down before him. Someone cut his bonds and said...
Soldier: We left your stuff about thirty feet behind you, so as to make sure you can't go for it faster than we can cut you down. Don't want any last-minute surprises. Have a nice day, citizen.
The soldiers all piled into the Vertibird and it proceeded to take off, presumably fooled by Dan's bluff. However, once up in the air...
FalloutScott: An' who exactly is this 'Mr. Niska' anyway?
FalloutDavid: Fuck if I know.
Back on the ground, however, there was a man dressed in a black leather jacket and pants...plus ALOT of bandages, a cap, and red sunglasses. He was sitting on a big rock not far from Dan's stuff.
"That was pretty slick, right there. Of course, the Heads are gonna be pissed, but then they have a great deal to be mad at. Duch as ME. So, what will you do now, hammer-man?"
There was something odd about this man. He seemed to know the Heads, but he wasn't with them and he knew they'd probably want to go after Dan now. What did he want, then?
William, Evan, and Dudley had gone a LONG way and had found a big break: A secret entrance that was sealed off and likely not known about exactly, not by the Enclave anyway. But to a BoS Scribe? Well now... The only problem, of course, was that no matter how much of an in this might've given Will...he was still going into the heart of Enclave territory. There would be no peril greater than where he was going right now, not unless they had Exploding Brahmin as well down there. (Don't put it past 'em.) So, William - armed with Cram - set about into the tunnel. Meanwhile...Evan had cooked up a shish-kabob recipe that was not meant for combat and served it before their open fire.
Evan: Because...the combat one was based upon the REAL kabob which I found a good recipe for, though most people forget about it these days.
Dudley: I like this. Gonna have to share it with me after we've done this haul.
Evan: I can oblige.
FalloutJack: Can I have some water? It's very spicy.
He handed off the bottle without thinking about it, and then reacted suddenly as the two of them found a black-armored agent in their midst, his suit given to have green highlights to go along with the glowing eyes.
Evan: Where did YOU come from?!
FalloutJack: Well, when a man and a woman decide they really love each other...
Dudley: I think he means how did you get to be suddenly sitting there, eatin' dinner with us?
FalloutJack: I move fast. FalloutJack of the Enclave's special Fallout Sector, checking around some reports of activity in our area. Can't be too careful with all those yahoos running around. You know, raiders and shit. We drove alot of 'em out, but they're never QUITE gone. So, about that water...
Evan really hoped that Will was having a better time of it...
The grin on Burt's face indicated that he had been considering what to do about his situation for a while now, and had prepared.
Burt: Well, it occurs to me that the local wildlife is of a violent attitude that will stamp about and try to actively go after whatever's thinning the herd, but can't always get at 'em, so they make with the stamping and running around. This leaves them in the general area for a while, leaving us free to take action. The problem is that the Graboids - call 'em that 'cause they grab ya from below - are hunting by sound, and that's ALOT of sound, so they could pop up anywhere, take a gulp, and pop back down safe and sound...
And then, he pulls out the dynamite sticks.
Burt: What do you say to maiming a few irradiated horses so the uglies can zero in on it, followed by a round of us chucking explosives at it while it goes after its prey?
If the...Graboids...went after the mmore helpless prey, they could throw dynamite at it while it's trying to take in a meal and blow it apart...in theory.
Stan went to see Emerson Estabahn over the situation in which Morgan Bloom had sent him. The businessman was not exactly pleased to see him - His eyes said that much - but his professionalism prevented him from getting too bent out of shape over it. Thus, it went like this...
Emerson: Morgan sent you to me because I asked him for help on a sensitive matter, someone who would appreciate my work enough to put things to rights quietly. Now, publically, I have revived Nuka Cola and its Quantum flavor. I am currently negotiating with West Coast distributors for the recipe to other flavors so that I may bring them to the East as well. This, however, puts my already-thinning assets to the breaking point...and now a situation arises. It's not the infestation downstairs. Those things happen. It is, however, this...
He placed a bottle of Nuka Cola on this desk.
Emerson: This bottle of cola that we produced seems normal, and many of them are. However, a number of them are NOT. They are making people sick and I need to know why. Somehow, some way, something in random bottles of our product is doing this. I'm getting blamed for this and I'm telling people that I'm looking into it, but they get unreasonable sometimes. They ask me about...Nukalurks found in the DC Ruins or other places, those 'Lurks that drink our stuff, and I don't know anything about that. I'm a man of business. Now, will you help us? If so, you will be working alongside those three inspectors I hired to make certain batches of soda were safe.
Just then, there was a muffled sounds - An explosion? - and Niko came in.
Niko: This guy's friend just handled a bunch of the Nukalurks and showed up Mick on his gunning skills. Can we keep 'im?
Yeah, neither the building nor the cloaked figure had reacted to the jeep horn beeping, let alone his talking. So, he'd taken to shooting at it. Now, he hadn't been waiting there QUITE as long as he thought, but the irritation was understandable, just the same. In shooting, though, a dark green funk blew out from the figure - horrible, horrible smell of the sea - and it was gone from sight as soon as the smoke dispersed...which was quickly. It was gone! No body, no blood, no...no footprints?! Well, it WAS raining, but still...this thing was GONE without a trace. How could it do th-
JESUS CHRIST, it was behind him and grasping at his neck, fingers like vice-grips and WHAT THE HELL?! Three dark-and-clammy fingers on those hands! Something was gripping his head and then- VISIONS!!
The walkers were coming.
The altar is ready and the catalyst will arrive soon.
The ancient ones will rise and take back the world that was theirs.
This land belongs to the them, as does the sea and the air.
Give in to them.
It was not words that spoke to him, but impressions that translated themselves thus. He felt that there was something larger than what he knew and that it was around him, that he had just come in contact with a dark-eyed beast with a clammy monstrous form that could make pure water in a toxic world. He had seen, briefly, its true self. He had seen it and its kind, leaping and flying across the land, but...he had already forgotten their shape. It didn't stick. The attempt to pull him in had not taken. He was resistant. And then-
Lightning struck. Jackson was in the position he was in when he'd woken up, waking up right now. It wasn't really raining that much anymore. Had whatever happened...UNhappened? Or perhaps NEVER happened? It's hard to say, but even though he was getting up like none of that had been real...his gun had still been fired, three times. And there was still a lingering taste of the sea...
Wow, those guys really WERE stupid. Who in their right mind would arm up a bunch of super mutants like THAT? Behemoth Bombs and crazy scientists... Well, if the Doc wanted to play up the randomosity like that, we'll just have to step it up a little. Because...the problem was right now that the MGB was caught up in a logic loop. It had never been tested for long-term missions, so they didn't know that it would eliminate the area of the radio tower and then refuse to budge for lack of any further mutant activity. The super computer was in a self-imposed cycle of determining why its objectives had not been met. Because of this, it wasn't going to patrol unless something forced it to...or it got more information. That...is what HE was after.
Two Behemoths had blown up and the one on the horse was still smashing things with his BFH. At this time, there was a vertibird - Non-Friendly - flying around and two guys - one BoS and one not - climbing up two different legs on a giant Nightmare. A Nightmare Behemoth? Will wonders never cease? And so, he assessed the situation. The way he saw it, there was both an advantage and disadvantage in this. The Behemoths had damaged the Citadel with their attacks, and hardly any of them could damage the armored Sir Hammersby. He was already moving on to an area with no slippery stuff while those two were trying to play their version of Shadow of the Colossus. Good idea, but one problem. He needed to interrogate that mutant, AND take down that Vertibird. They couldn't have unfriendly skies around here.
The Enclave hovercraft came out of its hiding place and place, driven forward by plasma engines. Its forward and turret cannons fired heavy wads of plasma at the horse wildly...and here was where things went wrong. The hose had bits and chunks exploded from it, and it was already going to fall. Unfortunately for the driver, it was going to land heavily on the back-end of his ride. So, in proper Frank Rose tradition, a vehicles has exploded in the name of taking down the bad guys. Well...not quite. The first thing is...the Behemoth jumped...on top of the Citadel! It pulled out a couple of its own Mini-Nukes and tossed them inside, blowing stuff up. And then...there was the fate of the driver, who ejected. SMASH!! This time, the cockpit window did not survive. There was now a powersuited man standing before the gaping hole...and he's holding a powered claymore!
"Hola, mi nombre es FalloutBob. Usted mató a mi gente. Prepárate a morir."
A quick swing and the control stick for the Vertibird was freed from the rest of the cockpit, Bob jumping from the vehicle with an "Ole!" to go after the Behemoth. That man was insane! More to the point, this Vertibird would now be out of control!
Frank had successfully climbed the horse, and had begun climbing the mutants armor, when an Enclave vehicle shot up the Nightmare. The Behemoth responded by jumping onto the wall of the Citadel and throwing mini-nukes. Frank did not want to be next to one of those when it exploded.
"That schmuck stole your kill!"
"Priorities! Behemoth comes first"
"Shut up, I shouldn't hear you, I'm not crazy! Sane people don't hear voices!"
[Perception]An Enclave man had ejected from the hovercraft up to the Vertibird, sliced into the cockpit, and jumped down to the Citadel walls. Since the Vertibird wasn't crashing, Gilford was still alive. It also wasn't going anywhere though. The man had probably cut the controls.
"I've had it with these mother-fucking 'Clave in my mother-fucking wastes!"
[Energy Weapons 80/30][Success!]Frank fired a bolt at the man's feet.
"You stole my kill, I demand satisfaction! When this is over, you and me, mano y mano! Just us and our respective fists of steel! No weapons."
[Endurance]Frank resumed his climb, moving around to the backside of the Behemoth to keep the explosions from the mini-nukes from hitting him.
The cockpit window was smashed with great force and a powered blade had sliced the controls from Gilford's hands.
Who had done this? None other than FalloutBob. He said something in a language she didn't understand, with a mocking but cheerful tone, he jumped from the ruined Vertibird and sped to the ground.
"I didn't want to say this, but, we're going down...slowly." Gilford muttered casually.
"What the hell do you mean?!" Lucy's rage started to boil the moment her mind processed that FalloutBob was nearby, let alone attacking her.
"Easy there, Lucy! We retrofitted these birds with a fail-secure mechanism. I can't control our descent, but I know we're just going down slowly, weapons are still active though. Just buckle up and -"
Paladin Gilford had stopped talking because Lucy had her hand clenched on his shoulder until her knuckles turned white "Fire on him now!"
"Frank is still down there, not to mention othe-"
She screamed at him with unbridled rage, she unclipped Vikki's SMG and just emptied the entire clip towards Bob's direction.
"Dammit!" she reached around to her backpack and pulled out two 10mm magazines, she held one between her teeth as she reloaded, finding conventional guns clunky. Taking the spare clip from her mouth, she proceeded to rapid fire in his direction again. Screaming with rage, she proceeded to do the same with her third magazine. Only one more left in her backpack.
This time she rushed to the other end of the Vertibird, since it had slowly spun, shoving Barry out of the way, she pulled her Gauss Rifle out and tried to aim and fire, but anger had destroyed her focus.
"You killed my father!"
She sent a magnetically-propelled slug towards him.
"You destroyed MY LIFE!"
She clumsily reloaded and took aim.
"You're making me repay a debt that didn't even belong to me!"
She fired in his direction again, clearly missing, but landing near him at least.
"You forced me to do your dirty work while I had to shoulder undeserved guilt!"
She reloaded and prepared another shot.
"I am so fucking sick and tired of your bullshit, you, the Enclave, EVERYTHING!"
She fired another shot by instinct, this one may or may not have hit since she lost her balance as the Vertibird descended faster than expected.
She looked towards the Behemoth ravaging the Citadel.
She pulled Vikki's SMG out once more and with the final clip, she showered anything in FalloutBob's direction with a hail of gunfire and Gauss Rifle bolts.
With her voice breaking slightly, two years worth of frustration welled up in tears and blind fury.
She was visibly shaking as she kept pulling the trigger, but the gun clicked over and over again saying that it was empty.
"Fine!" she practically growled while tears streamed down her face, her fists clenched tightly.
"I am Lucy Black and I will not be your goddamn puppet!"
And with that final scream of fury, she holstered her weapons and prepared to jump as soon as they got closer to the ground.
Jackson sat, breathing heavily. He was beginning to think that that was an alien. Or drugs were taken at some point along the road. Or-
'shut the fuck brain!' Jackson rubbed his temple, and felt his throat. He was fine, alive at least. He wondered how his older brother would react to any of this? Probably with shooting things. He was always the less brainy one. This naturally brought him to thoughts of the middle brother, the one that would go down in history. The Murphys only wished it was for more pleasant reasons. Jackson sighed, pushing these thoughts out of his mind. These memories never went well, and always resulted in crying or rage fueled slaughtering. Speaking of mass murder, his short term goal of visiting the Citadel was still in act, and he realized the jeep was still on. He sighed, and began driving, through the rain. He was always good at that...
Barry watched as Lucy unwound yelling and screaming and firing wildly. He tried to console her, but as he opened his mouth she shoved him out of the way. He stumbled smacking his head on the inside of the vertibird in surprise. This appeared to be the straw that broke the camel's back. His body just gave up and went home at this point. He was out on his feet. The vertibird span more quickly than one would have expected and he fell backwards out of the vertibird. The air flowed past him as he rocketed towards the ground. He didn't know where he was or in fact who he was in this moment which felt like hours. So he didn't struggle. He didn't scream. He just silently plummeted. He hit the ground with a sickening thud landing flat on his back. His head snapped back and hit the concrete. He blacked out instantly upon impact with the sidewalk. A pool of blood began to form around his body. He needed extensive medical attention soon or this would be how he would finally go out. Not with a bang, but with a whimper.
Barry was laying in that chair once again with the smoking ashes of his father laying infront of him. A day had past since where the memory left off. He finally pushed himself up from the extreme hunger he was feeling. Every few steps he would look back as if his father would just be standing there unharmed petting Old Bessie just as he could usually be found doing in life. Barry could still hear the screaming of his father and the brahmin. Every time he blinked he saw them burning as if it was painted onto his eyelids. He stepped into a settlement and wandered through it like a zombie. After a few minutes a pale shakey man pressed his hand on Barry's shoulder. "You look like you just saw some terrible shiznit go down homeboy. I got something for you to take the edge off brother." He pulled out a hit of psycho. "Don't worry. First ones free buddy." He smiled with his yellow and black teeth. Barry took it into his hands and injected it into his arm. Part of him hoped it would kill him. Unfortunately for him it didn't...
"This guy's friend just handled a bunch of the Nukalurks and showed up Mick on his gunning skills. Can we keep 'im?" the young man from before said, entering.
"No, he's mine. You can't have him." Stan said with a smile, then turned to Estabahn. "Yup! Works for me. We'll get to the bottom of it, make no mistake. Unless we don't." He shrugged, then stood. "Best get to work, then. I'm gonna need either an escort with the keys to the plant, or the keys themselves. Gonna take a stroll around the plant and get a feel for the place before I start looking too hard. Is that acceptable?"
Stanley was businesslike, now. It was an abrupt change. Though he kept his amiable tone of voice, he suddenly dropped the laughing familiarity, and went to work. He might be silly at the best of times, but he took his work seriously. He'd learned that lesson the hard way.
Paladin Gilford had turned around in his seat, as much as he could at least, in order to face Lucy "Lucy, I know what you're thinking, don't do this! Just sit down and brace for impact, you're being reckless and stupid!"
"You don't know what the hell I'm thinking, you have no idea what that man took from me! she spoke through gritted teeth, she was breathing raggedly and her free hand was continuously clenching and unclenching.
"Where's Mr Allen?" Gilford's tone was sincerely quizzical.
This had momentarily snapped Lucy out of the roaring tempest that was her seething rage. "What?" she rushed over to the other end of the Vertibird.
She knew she had shoved him out of the way, but did she -
Peering down, she spotted Barry, flat on his back and not even moving.
The Vertibird had veered off to the left, so they weren't going to land on Barry, although the ground was approaching uncomfortably fast. "Forgive me, Paladin." she said this just as she jumped out. She had intended to turn her landing into a roll, but only half succeeded and ended up hitting the ground rather hard and tumbling. Pain had rocketed through her left leg and shoulder. She groaned in absolute pain for a moment.
The Vertibird smashed loudly behind her, a small distance off and a stream of obscenities could be heard from the wreckage. No screams for help, more complaining than anything else.
She clawed her way up, fueled by her desire to get to Barry. Grief had actually started to overpower her anger.
Reaching his body, she saw the blood pooling around him. "This is my last one! I'm so sorry. Please don't die, please let this help you somehow." she said this as she injected her last stimpack into his body. She knew it wouldn't do much, but it was better than nothing.
"Uggghhh, stupid goddamn Enclave bastards! Pull him onto my lap. These legs are weak, but these arms are strong." a familiar voice and a creaking sound rang out from behind her.
Lucy turned to see Paladin Gilford, bruised and bleeding slightly from the head, in what looked like a reinforced wheelchair. She gave a tortured smile and wasted no time trying to drag Barry's body onto Gilford's lap, with some help, he made it.
"Lucy, that Behemoth, take it down at all costs or there won't be a Citadel to go back to! I'm going to find any field-doctors or make my way to the Citadel. The Brotherhood will hear of your brave actions today. Remember, you still gotta admire my Bobblehead's..." he started wheeling away with surprising speed and a grim laugh. Barry's unconscious body hung limply over either end of the wheelchair.
Alone, she struggled to walk easily, her less-than-graceful landing had done some damage to her leg and left shoulder. Luckily she was right-handed.
She was a small distance off from the Citadel Walls, the Behemoth in the distance and two figures. Her crash could not have been more opportune.
Priming her rifle, her aim was a lot more steady, now that she was on the ground, as she scouted the ruined and scorched battlefield before her. She spotted Frank pointing a pistol at someone. She looked over to find...FalloutBob with his powered sword of some kind, facing Frank.
Not too far from them, the Behemoth was still smashing at the Citadel and tossing the odd mini-nuke with reckless abandon.
She could still see the mini-nuke held in place on what looked like a giant utility belt covered by toughened material. That odd mini-nuke was still poking out though.
FalloutBob had ignored every shot she made on the way down. The floodgates weren't merely opened by this point, they were completely smashed off their hinges and her seething rage returned.
She only saw red at this point and aimed through her scope towards the Behemoth, she only needed the smallest hit. Crouching for stability, she sent a shot ringing towards the Behemoth's large hand in hopes of making him drop the hammer.
She screamed at FalloutBob.
She picked an easier target and nailed the back of the Behemoth's armored head.
"In case you haven't heard, I am Lucy Black and I will not be your goddamn puppet!" She shouted while she made her way closer to the Citadel walls, trying to catch her breath, her body was aching, but she did not care at this point.
Her voice cracked again as she screamed with rage and fired a bolt near his feet.
She reloaded and fired another concentrated shot towards the mini-nuke, even if she didn't hit, her message would be clear either way.
"Do I have your attention now?!"
Barry stumbled back into an alleyway and laid down. His pupils dialated and he would have given a sigh of relief because the screams in his head finally stopped, but the psycho removed his higher brain functions. He laid back and attempted to finally sleep...When he awoke he was no longer in the alley. He was laying in the middle of street. The moment he awakened the screaming began to ring through his ears once again. He rolled around covering his ears unable to do anything to stop it. People passed by him taking a moment to stare at the crazy psycho addled man rolling around screaming, "MAKE IT STOP!" with tears streaming down his face. He rolled against the outer wall of a building. Slamming his head backwards into it screaming desperately. After a while he calmed down growing more used to the yelling in his brain. He went back to psycho dealer handing him a bag with all of his caps. The man looked through it quickly estimating the amount within. He reached back into his jacket and pulled out a dozen different hits of psycho. And handed them to Barry in broad daylight. No one cared. Just another Junkie getting his fix. Barry climbed back into the alley injecting two of them into his upper arm. His pupils began to take up most of his eyes. The next several hours past by as a colorful blur. When his higher brain functions returned to him he had no earthly idea of where he was. It was fairly dark and the cold of the nights in the wasteland radiated across his body. Sweat streamed down his face in spite of this. He looked down at himself and saw that he was soaked in blood. He shouted and pushed himself backwards almost as if he was trying to climb away from himself. He couldn't think clearly and he desperately looked around. He was laying in a decrepid series of buildings in an abandoned neighborhood. He backed away until he bumped his head on a dumpster. He rubbed his skull and stood up looking into the dumpster. A woman laid within with the blade of a knife stuck within her eye socket. Blood covered much of her face and chest. Where was the handle? WHERE WAS THE HANDLE??? He ran around the nearby area looking around desperately. Finally a thought entered his head. One he didn't want to entertain but he was forced to. He reached into his his pocket feeling nothing, but worry. His hand pressed against wood. He quickly pulled it out. It was the handle to a knife. He dropped to his knees sobbing holding it in his hand. "what have I done" he said in a voice barely above a whisper. A third scream joined the chorus in his head. That of a woman...
His body began to seizure.
[Endurance]Frank was about at the Behemoth's shoulders.
"Si senor. Después de esto."
"No hablo Espanol! Engles por favor!"
The Enclave man leaped into the air, but was knocked back by a gauss bolt setting off a mini-nuke, this was why Frank put a big meaty piece of Behemoth between him and the nukes.
"No me gusta!"
"I have dibsies sir!"
"If he refuses to respect your dibsies, disrespect him. As immaturely as you possibly can."
Frank grabbed some of his leakings...
...And threw it at the mans eyes.
"Ay, esta kaka en me ojos!"
Frank crawled under the mutant's neckplate.
[Striking points: Science (60 + 10 from cross referencing) 70/40][Success!] A Super Mutant's spine bulges against their flesh due to it growing a little too fast compared to the rest of the torso.
Frank struck at the beast's spine with all his might and heard a sickening crunch.
"How do you like having permanent neurological damage!?"
Of course, Frank had a backup plan. When he left, he gave all his possessions to Squire Maxson. Those possessions included the refurbished railgun he had built when he was 12. It had to be plugged into the citadel's reactor to actually fire, and a team would be needed to get it up to the courtyard, but just that was happening.
"This will be good."
"This will be messy."
"This will be beautifully messy."
"So, about that water."
You know when you are at the mercy of someone else? When you feel threatened and know you will die if someone decides it will be so? Scribe Ramsey was feeling that right now. Handing the water to Fallout Jack he looked at Dudley in a way that either meant, "Stick to the story." Or in certain ghoulish circles, "Your face appears to be consuming itself."
Since it seemed unlikely to be the latter, Dudley stood up and began the sales pitch:
"Good day sir! We are merchants of the finest energy weapons the wasteland owns. We know dealers and suppliers from all over and have sought you out as our prime customer! We are the best for miles around, no other merchant gives you more zaps for your caps!" This last line made Evan look round in confusion.
"Mind if we look round your base so we can see what you need?" Dudley said with a big grin.
'I hope William is doing better than us.' Thought Evan.
Although he didn't know it, William was having a better time of it than Evan and Dudley. After eating the cram he made his way down the tunnel, the pip-boy telling him it was time to get moving. Pistol in hand and using the pip-boy light he saw ancient walls scrawled with messages:
LET US IN
WE ARE ALL DEAD
THE CONSPIRACY IS HERE
THE BOMBS WERE NOT REAL
The paint seemed oddly fresh, who had written it?
Maybe it was the figure appearing out of the dark at a high speed towards William shouting: "HELLLLOOOOOOO THEEEEERRRRREEEE!!!!"
"This has saved us some bloody time and effort mate, we can increase our production now and start making some serious profit... Thanks" said Mick.
'All in a days work' replied Wayne as he counted his caps at an old desk. His little skirmish felt like it had set his knee on fire so he seated himself as soon as he could and tried to hide the pain from anybody.
"So what exactly is the secret to killing those things?" Asked the first guard, who's view toward Wayne had turned into one if admiration rather than fear.
Wayne sighed, a long heavy sigh. Trying to communicate the conflict within that happens when you give away information that becomes less valuable when it is shared. 'The face' he decidedly answered. 'Take your time and make the shot land, if you rush you'll be outta bullets when the thing gets on top of you.'
This invoked a lot of whispering between the guards, as they seemingly argued over who could pull off a shot like that on a moving target. Many of these guys were evidently inexperienced.
'I'm gonna step outside, get a feel for where I am.' He said as he painfully pulled himself to his feet and began hobbling outside, his Robo-brain stood in the corner set to wait.
"I'll let your friend know where you are mate, and once again, cheers" said Mick reassuringly, giving Wayne a pat on the back. A strange feeling Wayne hadn't felt in a while, human contact that wasn't of the, I'm trying to get your caps off of you you useless cripple variety.
Outside the air was noticeably damp, and the clouds were very grey, something Wayne had never seen before. The air was cool and... What was that rumble? He looked over in a N-N-E direction, according to his Pip-boy compass, and saw the odd tiny flash and smoke rising high in the air, followed by a rumble.. a battle? Whatever it was it wasn't Wayne's business and he went back to scoping out the area, his Pip-boy map currently 'on the blink' as Arcade would say.
"Tubes, he says, always with the fuckin' tubes the dozy bastard barely got any fingers unbroken least not until I'm done, not until I'm done with the scoundrel tip that poison down me I'm a god damn doctor I control the medicine this side of the river old chap Abe I hate you I hate you I hate you Abe hate I you you I hate haite hayte hayy tuhtuhtuhtuhtuh yew you yeeeeeerw."
*trudging, clattering, wind*
"And I'm going to fucking kill you, one day soon, you shit."
Enclave. Honestly Marlon was surprised he hadn't run across any sooner. Maybe if he was real lucky this enclave schmuck'd break the vocal speaker in Frank's suit, spare him the prattling of that goddamn loon for a while. Not kill him though, no sir. He still owed Marlon a car and two cases of energy weapons.
Time to consider that later though. RIght now, that damn mutant had gotten too close for comfort. Repositioning himself to get a better vantage point and a little more cover, the Van Graff pulled out his plasma pistol and began to fire several rounds at one of the mutant's knees. Burn enough of the muscle tissue and that hulk'd be hard pressed to avoid toppling over.
He smiled. Business was going to be good when this war was done. All the fear still fresh in the minds of people who'd pay happily to get a little added security.
FalloutBob had ignored her again by rocketing towards the Behemoth in a single monstrous leap. Under any other circumstance, this feat would have looked somewhat spectacular, but his leap was interrupted by her last shot setting off the exposed mini-nuke on the armored Behemoth. This had had aptly sent him crashing down.
Lucy's eyes had narrowed into a murderous glare as she saw an opportunity to do some real damage to him. Or so she thought, she was grounded and had the shockwave of the explosion to deal with, so she was sent hurtling back painfully as she lost her footing.
"Lord, seriously? Dost thou have a vendetta against thine servant today? These clothes, which signify my obedience towards you were only washed last week. Surely this is but a test and not you telling me to slag off!"
Only a few seconds had passed, but she opened her eyes to find herself laying on her side, noticing a nearby figure. A rather slender figure. "Undertaker..." she softly murmured to him.
She remembered the stories of sharply-dressed men and women who wondered the Wasteland, offering their ritual burial services for a fee. There were only a handful and they were perceived as omens of death due to their scarce nature.
Her body was absolutely aching and she was now bleeding slightly from the head, but she had managed to sit up, pulling her Gauss Rifle onto her lap. "You are two deaths too late, Undertaker. I was meant to die a long time ago, yet I still walk-" she looked down sheepishly "-or sit at the very least."
Lucy used this time to catch her breath and give her muscles a few minutes rest, some of her common sense had been retrieved and it had told her to stay where she was, for the moment at least. She now understood why, looking through her scope, she saw Frank deliver a punishing blow to the Behemoth. He had a plan or else he would have killed it outright.
She would assist, of course, in a moment.
Looking over towards the rather long Undertaker, she addressed him directly, but with a tone of respect and friendliness "Impeccably dressed, extensive vocabulary and an air of dignity. You must be an Undertaker. I'm sure you here complaints and groans more than compliments in your profession, but it is an honor to meet what most consider a myth." she completed this with a kind smile.
She realized the Undertaker was taking refuge behind a rather large chunk of Behemoth. She wasn't sure whether this was her kill or Marlon's, you could never really tell when a stack of mini-nukes sent body parts flying. She made her way closer to him, painfully, since walking had become more a strain than ease, offering her hand out of respect. "Lucy Black, a pleasure." she smiled sweetly.
She deeply respected what he did for a living, part of that profession was respecting the dead, a rare but noble trait in her eyes.
What are you doing!? her thoughts had violently interrupted.
She looked around, hopefully, to find FalloutBob sprawled on the ground somewhere. This was not the case as he was near the Behemoth, rubbing what looked like brown sludge from his helmet. He was tough. Her anger started to boil beneath the surface again. "I may not be dying right now, Undertaker, but I can compensate for this loss by giving you someone else to bury..."
She took careful aim at Bob's knee, she wanted to cause as much pain as possible, trying to steady her aim and breathing as much as possible, she would savor this shot if it landed.
At that point, it did not occur to her that even with a critical shot to the knee, he could still escape and even fight back, but she didn't care at that point.
"Enclave Asset Unit-08 is handing in her resignation, bitch!"
With her Gauss Rifle humming with power, she pulled the trigger and fired...Hoping, with tears slowly welling up in her eyes as she remembered her father, that the shot would land.
The railgun began to hum.
"Get the fuck away!"
As figments of Frank's imagination, they knew everything he knew, and he knew not to be anywhere near where the railgun was pointing.
Frank jumped down from the Behemoth as the enclave man jumped up to the Behemoth's face, narrowly dodging a gauss slug.
Frank almost felt bad for the man, as he started running along the Citadel wall, away from the Behemoth, with great speed and vigor.
A loud sonic boom knocked frank on his face, and sending him skidding face-first along the Citadel walls, as a magnetic shell impacted the mutant's gut, bisecting it. The top half of the mutant was sent flying, with the Enclave man holding on and screaming obscenities.
Frank lay face-down, and chuckled to himself.
"I win! In your face universe!"
"Nice going Ladybug.
There was still a duel to be had with the Enclave man though. Assuming he survived.
"I'm gonna take a drink. Then maybe I'll head out of this area for a bit. Too much Enclave and that raider Blacky will probably be after me. Blacky what a lame name for a raider. Especially one that is supposed to be smart. I mean call yourself Sable or Noir or Raven. I mean something with some swag to it," Dan talked as he made his way to his stuff, never taking his eyes off the bandaged guy. "I mean you don't call your self Band or Ugly Guy? I only assume the last one because you cover your face.
Dan picked up his bag, dropping his newly acquired caps into it, slid his hammer through a loop in his belt and slung his rifle and bag over his shoulders.
"So where would be the nearest bar? Megaton? Paradise Falls maybe. Rivet City is sure to have one but thats a walk. I know there is some place on by the river. Wright Wharf or something. Run by an old woman. Do you have any ideas Burned Man? It doesn't really matter to me. I mean if any of Blackie's raiders come after me or if anyone else does, I'll have to go hamer time on them
Fate, at this moment, was not content to smile on Lucy's fortune.
Her shot would have missed dramatically, even if FalloutBob was still in place, which he was not, considering that he had jumped towards the Behemoth with a spectacular show of agility.
"Fuck!" she shouted out of sheer frustration and considered throwing her Gauss Rifle, but she merely dropped it and let it roll to her side. She wiped the tears from her eyes and noticed that she had dramatically downplayed her injuries. She could move, but she could feel that her left leg, shoulder and arm was significantly battered. She knew that if she had to remove her clothing, she would find many cuts and bruises along her small frame.
Then she realized that she had company, respected company. Now swearing in the Wasteland was a common occurrence, but there was always a time and place for manners. She was in the presence of an Undertaker, it's like swearing in front of a priest, you don't do that kind of
shit stuff. "Erm...gosh darn it!" she said sheepishly.
Slumping down on her back, she wished for a stimpack and peered up at the Undertaker, upside down (She was fond of doing this). "Shifty McGee." she slowly repeated it to herself. "I don't mean to be crass, but that's a rather apt name, don't you think? People think of you as omens or myths, 'Shifty' would be one of many descriptions relating to your appearance" she was rather pleased that she could stretch her vocabulary for once. All those time's alone, reading, actually paid off.
"Personally, I find you rather fascinating and stylish, as far as first impressions go." She grew slightly embarrassed at being so open, so she sat up and listened to him speak.
"So the question remains... why'd you try to kill me?"
Sincere shock followed by guilt was clear on Lucy's face as she recalled her previous actions, most of it an angry haze. She had opened fire on FallouBob with every 10mm SMG magazine she had left, fired roughly five Gauss Rifle bolts on the way down and had even demanded for Paladin Gilford to open fire on him using the Vertibirds mounted weapons.
When she was up there, she didn't care care who was caught in the crossfire. Frank or even Shifty, she just wanted to hurt Bob somehow.
"That Enclave man..." she sighed heavily and spoke with a clear apologetic tone to her voice. "He took someone dear to me, my father. It was also his order that burnt down Springvale, my home. He threatened to inflict a similar fate on certain settlements and city's if I didn't inform on them to the Enclave. He called it paying off my father's debt...Which I still have no idea what that means even to this day. My dad was a simple trader, now I find out he's mixed up with the Brotherhood and Enclave." she cut herself short there.
"I'm rambling. His name is FalloutBob, or Bob for short. He attacked the Vertibird I was in and I just snapped, I wanted to right the wrongs he inflicted on me." she felt extremely guilty and her voice reflected that. "I'm sorry, at that point I wasn't thinking clearly and I didn't mean to put you in danger." she paused. "I'm telling you all this out of good faith, as an Undertaker. Profession aside, I feel I can trust you...And me being reckless around those I trust is not a good thing."
This sudden trust seemed like a strange thing at this point, but it was the way in which Shifty had dressed that had reminded her of something. Her father always used to dress his best, no dark clothing though, but he always dressed as fancy as he could before leaving on trading trips, or she assumed it was trading trips.
Lucy adjusted her armor painfully, pulled her hair loose from her pigtails and slumped down on her back. "I killed a Behemoth today, I think I have good reason to be exhausted." Her dark hair danced over her eyes.
A few minutes had passed before she shrieked out of surprise at what sounded like an explosion and saw the top half of the Behemoth flying through the air, followed by a stream of obscenities.
What the hell did you do this time, Frank? she smiled to herself.
The figure was now sprinting out of the darkness towards William, arms outstretched horizontally. The figure sprang off its back foot and brought its arms together, scratching William on the face and drawing blood on the left cheek.
William took two steps back and drew his sword, taking a defensive stance. With any luck, the assailant would recognise another attack would be in vain. William could see that the figure was human and the fingernails were rather long and pointed. William circled round the figure as it made to leap at him again and ducked low, slashing at its leg with a light cut. The figure roared in pain and turned to face William once again. This time however it was staring straight into the pip-boy light dazzling it for a moment before being kicked in the chest by William.
Now the light was being shone at the figure properly, details could be picked out, the figure was a woman with close cropped hair and wore the ragged remains of a uniform, The most interesting thing about her was the device on her head, it seemed to have been broken and compressed to fit a human sized head but it was clamped tightly to her temples and the back of her head. William rolled the woman onto her front to examine the device from the back, it had cracked from the impact with the ground, William could see no release mechanism to speak of so he decided to use his sword, with a careful slash he cut off the back of the headgear and the side panels fell away too.
Was she dead? What was this device? How did she get here?
The same way William had presumably. Or perhaps through the door that was supposed to be locked? The one at this end of the tunnel. Leaving the woman behind he made his way to the door and opened it from the correct side and stepped through.
'Ah... right, this explains a lot...... not ideal at all.' You see if there is a door you can't get through in your base and you worry what might be on the other end of it, just put something very scary and dangerous on your side of the door. In this case, the Enclave was keeping a menagerie of deathclaws on their side of the door, lined up in cages.
Now hopefully there wasn't a fast approaching feed time.
Was the sales patter working? Dudley had been rehearsing it in the shiny bit of his bike for a while. The big grin was supposed to be friendly, though Dudley had others he could use, scary, suave and apologetic being his other main ones.
If he could grin long enough at FalloutJack. Things would be fine, then again, what had the man on the radio always said? "Don't pet the Yao-Guai? Don't FEED the Yao-Guai!" That was it, but right now, when you're cornered, feeding the Yao-Guai was the only option.
Lucy enjoyed Shifty's rather eccentric company, she started to stretch, finding the ground oddly comfortable and the smell of Behemoth flesh stopped bothering her. Strange.
"Looks like it doesn't quite appear to be your moment and if I were to leave you here, I'd be back to collecting you later."
"Good to know I'll live, by an Undertaker's assessment that is." she absentmindedly played with her hair while thinking about Moira's polka dot dress that she was made to wear for laughs on several occasions. She did, however, started to listen intently about Shifty's family and history.
"To anyone else, this may sound like a foreign concept, but I have a great amount of respect for the services you provide. Sure, there's some sort of payment involved, voluntary or not, but you ultimately respect the dead. You give those who knew the recently deceased a piece a closure. To most, the dead are just those who have failed, survival of the fittest and all that
crap hogwash. I don't agree with that mindset, so that's why I find your work noble, regardless of p-personal m-motivation."
She felt empty, or more accurately, absolutely drained on a physical and especially an emotional level. Seems like adrenaline and her own plain stubbornness was keeping her going after the Vertibird crash.
"Now, Miss Black. I hope I don't alarm you with these actions too much but, seeing as how exhausted you seem to be and given that I have already done enough burying to fulfill my weekly quota, I suspect this little ruse may keep you alive a while longer."
She grew alarmed at the sounds of cracking knuckles and the whip of a measuring tape, peering down, she discovered that her measurements were been taken. All of them. Even the intimate ones. She felt very self-conscious, she tried to cross her arms but Shifty was very insistent that she lay still. "Buy a girl dinner first. I'm partial to Iguana-on-a-stick, overlooking some irradiated pond. I also want that stupid black-and-white polka dot dress at Moira's...It's cute."
Wait, little ruse?
She wasn't in any position to complain, then again she wasn't in any position to do anything when the ground started to feel like BlamCo Mac & Cheese to her.
"Probably something you don't hear a lot, but I am sorry for your loss as well. Your family sounded really pleasant." she said this softly, in a sleepy manner. Her attention spiked when she heard mention of his connection to the Enclave and information. "Maybe we can help one another out? I'd be more than honoured to assist you somehow or travel with you." she smiled at the notion of pretty formal-wear and new shoes.
The Mac & Cheese under her grew more enticing to sleep in, so she only had a few moments before exhaustion set in and rendered her unconscious. "Backpack, you'll find 140 caps, helps to make it look legitimate. Or consider it a donation for being so n- *yawn* nice to me." her vision started to go first "Trusting you. No idea what you have planned."
"I promise I'll leave the casket lid open."
Under normal circumstances, that part would have panicked her. However, Lucy was enjoying the BlamCo Mac & Cheese floor too much as she sunk into exhaustion and subsequently, lots of noodles and cheese.
Frank laid atop the wall of the citadel, all the Behemoth's defeated.
"The Enclave man might still be alive."
"He wasn't above kill-stealing, he's probably not above avoiding your duel."
"He needs to die, you need to kill him."
Frank got up.
"All right, let's get that ass-"
[Luck]Liquefied behemoth entrails fell from the sky on top of Frank.
Frank climbed down the wall of the Citadel, and started walking in the direction the Enclave man was launched.
[Endurance]Frank was holding together, but he was starting to feel the pain of that fight.
[Repair 100/50][Success!]Frank did a systems check on his armor as he walked.
Servos were all functioning.
Some of the armor plates were dented, and would need to be replaced, but they were all still serving as armor just fine.
External speakers were down.
Plumbing was bust.
Air systems were good, considering he could breathe.
"I am the very model of a modern Major-General,
I've information vegetable, animal, and mineral,
I know the kings of England, and I quote the fights historical
From Marathon to Waterloo, in order categorical;a
I'm very well acquainted, too, with matters mathematical,
I understand equations, both the simple and quadratical,
About binomial theorem I'm teeming with a lot o' news,
With many cheerful facts about the square of the hypotenuse."
...Good, as was Frank's singing voice. (At least in his opinion.)
Rockets were still good, but they were out of fuel.
Radio receiver/helmet internal speakers...
"Three Dog here!"
"Hello, anyone? Test? Over?"
Feeding systems could not be tested, as there was no immediately available food to put into the port.
Not ideal, but nothing that would severely impair him.
Of course, this damage to his armor was enough that it couldn't keep away the voices.
"It's rude to ignore us son."
Frank refused to respond. Responding to the voices in your head meant you were crazy. Frank didn't want to be crazy.
No it probably wouldn't be feeding time at this hour, William slipped through the Deathclaw area, barely daring to breathe. Yet the creatures made little to no sound inside their cages. From the small gaps between the large and hopefully sturdy panels William could see that some of the Deathclaws seemed to be asleep or motionless. They all appeared to wear the metallic headgear the crazy woman was wearing.
William headed towards what appeared to be the exit, almost reaching it before hearing voices on the other side. The voices were muffled but getting louder. Ducking behind some pipes in the wall, William saw two power armoured figures walk past him into the chamber. William scurried out of his hiding place and through the door before it closed.
Where to next? Now he was inside the building he would have to be careful of where he was exactly and not get lost. After all, asking someone for directions was out of the question. William looked at the corridor he was in, it was metallic and clean, just what you might expect from the Enclave. The place looked like it could survive anything short of a dozen nuclear bombs, the command centre or whatever place held data Morgan Bloom and the Brotherhood both wanted would probably be higher up, checking to see that nobody was coming, William went to the end of the corridor and took the staircase up.
Up, up, up we go and several floors (and a couple of close shaves) later William thought he was getting somewhere. The base did not seem very active at this time but there were still intermittent patrols. This door here looked promising, on the other side there might be -
"What do you think you're doing here sir?" A womans voice asked sweetly behind him.
Ah...... oh dear......
"Speak up, it's not often I get someone new to talk to and I'd hate to have to turn you into green goo without getting to know you first." William turned around and found he had a plasma pistol pointing at his neck. The woman holding it seemed to be both smiling and glaring at William, she was quite attractive, with black hair tied back, probably into a ponytail. Oh yes, she was also wearing an Enclave Officers uniform. William tried his most winning smile which at this point wouldn't help and said:
"Of course, so lovely to meet you. I'm sure we can get to know each other before... vaporisation. I was just... inspecting this fine facility when our paths crossed. It's a pleasure to meet you."
At least she was nice to look at, even if she would probably kill him.
Lucy found herself laying on her bed, reading as usual, when her father was out on one of his many business trips.
She was getting hungry, so she walked over to the fridge, book still in hand and silently prayed for Blamco Mac & Cheese. She was interrupted by four slow consecutive knocks against the front door.
She knew who it was in an instant, since that particular knock was a code, she gripped the handle and teasingly called out to the person outside "Who is iiiiit?".
"Lucy, my dear, I love you very much but just open the damn door." her mother replied.
Opening the door and allowing her mother to step in quickly, the door was shut behind her and she was pulled into a tender embrace "It's been 8 months and 15 days since I had the chance to hold you again, Lucy. The work at the Plasma factory always seems to keep us apart."
Lucy had asked a few other people about the Plasma factory, they said they never heard of anything like it. Must have been super secret then!
"If you would just talk to Dad, then we woul-" she was interrupted by a stern look from her mother.
"Your Father insists on you staying in this poorly defended hellhole while he runs glorified errands. We could use more manpower, not couriers, despite my reservations about his apparent abilities. Yet my bosses like having him around for reasons that are beyond me." She frowned and shook her head ever so slightly with a look of barely concealed contempt on her face. She seemed to be talking to herself more than anything else.
"Manpower? You mean other traders?" Lucy folded the corner of the page of her book since she couldn't find her bookmark.
Amy Black, now Amy Kane after the divorce, was a slender, tall woman with a fair complexion. Her black hair was tied into a simple yet professional ponytail. She wore a dark militaristic uniform which was barely concealed under a sleek feminine coat. Always with an eye for fashion, a sense of grace and an air of authority. Amy Kane was a woman who was extremely proud of herself, dignified and charismatic.
"...Yes, sweetpea, other...traders, obviously." she flashed a radiant smile and quickly changed the subject as soon as she looked at the cover of Lucy's book "Lying, Congressional Style" she read out loud. "You finally tore yourself away from those comic books and repair manuals. I'm proud, a woman should get by with her wits and cunning."
Her mother continued. "Charisma can get you many places my darling, yet sometimes a plasma pistol can get you further. Train with both and you'll be a force to be reckoned with one day, never be afraid to assert yourself."
"Mom, you're preaching again." she groaned slightly, her mom loved to ramble and so did she, but her mom insisted on making everything a life lesson. "So when do I get to see the Plasma Factory?" her eyes lit up with hope.
"You know this story Lucy-pie, it's closed to the public, maybe when you're a little older, you can see what it's like during recruitment. I would love to have my daughter at my side. Although your father would disapprove and say it's not safe." she snorted at the last sentence in disbelief.
"I am glad to see you, I only really get to see you once or maybe twice a year, but how do you always arrive when dad isn't around? And it was my 18th a week ago." Lucy sulked.
"Your father's whereabouts are easily tracked by us, we - sorry, I know him well enough to get a feel for how long his trips take." she looked annoyed for a moment. "As for your birthday, I have something for you. I didn't forget sweetpea."
She pulled her sidearm from her holster, laid it on the table and nudged it towards Lucy. "A plasma pistol!? Seriously? I've fired one a few times before it overheated, but this looks new." it was like Christmas, New year's, Easter and her Birthday all rolled into one. She hugged her mother tenderly.
"Oh it's new alright, we just produced it." She smiled mischievously and revealed a second holster on her other hip. "That one is yours, sweetpea. You're old enough to have your own weapon, tell your father who he's dealing with if he has a problem with it." she sounded like she was teasing, but Lucy could sense something a little too serious about her tone.
"Want to try it out, Sweetpea? We can go hunting Mole-rats, quick little guys but good target practice for leading targets with plasma." she gave Lucy a half smile and she looked genuinely sad. "I'm really sorry my love, I only have an hour or so before I have to meet up with some colleagues and head back to base."
Her heart fell slightly, she was used to being alone, but she never really liked it. She couldn't help but be quizzical at that moment, her book was paying off somewhat. "Base?" she raised an eyebrow.
Her mother chuckled and turned around to open the door, concealing her face. "The...factory, obviously. It's just an inside joke to call it the base...Now, let's go teach you how to properly handle a plasma pistol."
"I want a rifle one day..." Lucy muttered. Her stomach growled, but she was too happy to notice.
Time with her mother was always fleeting at best. She loved her, but the bond wasn't very strong since she always felt somewhat abandoned.
A few days after her mother left, her dad arrived back home. He spotted and examined the plasma pistol. She told him the truth. The pistol was taken outside, destroyed and burnt. He merely told Lucy "We do not keep anything from them. It's far too dangerous."
"Click, clack, clickety clack, click-clack clickety clack, click-clack clickety clack, send 'em over send 'em back, click-clack clickety-clack, click-clack clickety clack, click-clack clickety clack, send 'em over and I DON'T WANT 'EM click clack clickety-clack click clack clacketty click clack clack clickety clack don't send 'em over I send 'em back, click-clack, clickety clack clickclickclickclackclicketyclackclackclickclickclackclackdon'twant don't want don't want don't want..."
"But I do. Click clack."
"Crawver's log, uh...Journal. Diary. uh..."
"Ugh. I need to record myself in my proper state before I become unable to preserve it altogether. Two days, three nights have processed. Traveled. PASSED. That's it, passed. Passed since he fed me that damnable brew of his. Such was my state that I wasn't able to record proper notes in the tradition of the controversial self-experimentors in the field of medicine. Suppose the old taboos don't apply anymore, or perhaps there are new ones. Of what value...humph.
"Thankfully, no signs of amnesia are evident, I've no trouble with recognising time or space; as much as one can recognise space. I remember where I've been and where I'm planning to go, I've not lost anything, but then again I haven't traced...situated...localised...FOUND. Ugh. Found anything. Physical symptoms are more evident; I've been meaning to take notes on him, Abraham, I mean; but adrift of reason the effects are either masterfully hidden or so suppressed or mild in him that they're near-impossible to identify, without prolonged research in a controlled environment.
"One has to also consider the uh...consider...consi...considine...considian. Uh consider the sizeable difference in anatomy, between Walrus and man; mammals are cousins, not brothers after all. The first symptoms were, to my memory, positive. I mean to the body. Despite my wounds, exhaustion and exposure, I was - or at least I felt - fully revived, inexplic-well, not inexplicably, I knew exactly what caused it. Within ten, maybe twenty minutes I was able to move without pain or difficulty, my vision was clear and sharp, my limbs were young and spry with vigour, the hanging pain in my jaw had vanished; even my troubled lungs felt clean and the new air sought to overwhelm me. Some kind of survival tonic? It's entirely possible that he could have included Xander and Broc, must be far beyond the standard dose, though it's deadly when *that* concentrated, surely? Huh..."
"My plan is to remain sceptical; although the effects have tempered somewhat by now, it is sensible to expect a crash; of course, knowing when it comes, and being prepared...well, there's the kicker, friends. He hasn't talked to me since then, perhaps he's running out of steam. Hasn't found the tubes he's looking for. Did bring me something though; some kind of rifle, repeater rifle I think. Ammunition, too. He's even sheared the trigger-guard off for me, so I can use it with my clumsy old flippers. Nice of him. Nice...I won't be using it, but I didn't want to upset the old boy by refusing it. Not out of kinship or anything like that, no. No...No I still have to be careful. For her."
"Not a moment passes without a thought of her. I still keep moving, though. I'm not...not really sure if it *is* for her, I mean anymore. Death is more common than life, why should she or I be any exception? I...I...curses and damnation. Fie on this rotten old rock. Goodnight."
"Addendum. I...ugh...I have listened to the previous two recordings. I remember them, I remember the words dropping off my tongue and into the box. This will be addressed. But I have my priorities."
The rain didn't seem to last much longer, and Jackson was able to make some headway. However, along the way...there was a small issue. He'd had to be careful with his proceedings because of the presence of Super Mutant Behemoths, and now there were three of them smack dab in the way of his progress towards the DC Ruins. Three of them were gathered around a large bonfire with - Were those spikey horses? - livestock held inside the open-topped remnant of an old building. This was practically a scene out of an old fantasy novel, as the three Behemoths were arguing over dinner.
B1: Can't believe the Doc wanted to waste these on his stoopid experiments... I mean, they WORK, but come on! The bigger we are, the harder we eat!
B2: These Nightmares don't even COME this way. Haven't had good eats like this in a long time! Now, let's do it! I'M HUNGRY!
B3: Hang on a minute! I gotta finish these new pluckers for the spikes... That is, unless you want holes in your stomach!
B1: BAH! I wanted to go with the rest of 'em, eat some hoomans! But nooo... I have to be on GUARD DUTY! Why do we take orders from him?!
B2: 'Cause he made is BIG, and he's gonna help us dominate the world! THAT'S why!
B3: What'd he say? 'The world will be our oyster'? Mmm...oysters... Next time, we go down to the river an' pick up a few of the 'Lurks.
And so on. Can our boy get his jeep around these guys without their noticing?
"I mean you don't call your self Band or Ugly Guy? I only assume the last one because you cover your face."
"No, that's just some head injuries talking. They call me Hank."
Hank the bandage-man? Nice shades. You appear to be uhhh...armed to the teeth there, man. Let's have a look.
Dan inquired to tha man called Hank - Burning Man? - as to the nearest town. He did not appreciate the man's flippant behavior after having at least introduced himself, but then he had also done so TO the man in question. He pointed in a direction, though, due west.
"Paradise Falls is that way. Watch out for Slavers. They never stay out of there too long, even when someone clean-sweeps. I should know."
Stanley requested that he either be given keys or an escort WITH keys so that he could walk around and get a feel of the place. Emerson immediately nodded at Niko and asked him to act as such. Niko piped in with an "Alright, follow me." and proceeded to start out with a guided tour of the facilities.
The young sniper began to show him the works of the factory, going past the area leading to the basement where the Nukalurks had been. He explained briefly that they had been taken out by Wayne with some expert ability, and that those crabbies didn't stand a chance. Then, heading in further, they could see a room containing Twig, Ben, and Scar...the last of which looked very bored because of the first two of which. The job of inspection had apparently been Twig's way of picking up free Nuka Cola - as he was apparently told to test a bottle a batch for...problems - while Ben attempted to sleep with his chair leaned against a wall.
Niko: How's it going, guys?
Ben: The canary's still breathing.
Twig: Why do you keep calling me that?
Ben: Old mining trick. In case of bad gas or radioactivity, they'd have a little bird in a cage taken down to 'test the waters'. If ever died, they knew the area was unsafe.
Twig: So what is it? You're saying I'm gonna die of Nuka Cola?
Ben: Never doubted it for a minute.
Niko: HAS there been any problem?
Twig let out a large belch.
Twig: Not yet.
Scar got annoyed by this and left the room. She felt better off patrolling for things, even though there were plenty of guards around. She noticed that the basement and a couple other places were still off-limits to her. Stanley would also be cut off from such places. Meanwhile, outside...Wayne had his bearings by Pip-Boy now, but there was a problem. He began to feel subtle vibrations underneath his feet, and then...he would see dirt being pushed up from below as...a Nukalurk surfaced! Wait... That one was tougher-looking and the last, with more glowing than before and definitely more vicious claws and mandibles. It snarled at him and leapt for attack!
More and more, as his unsettled nights and days continued, Crawver would be drawn again to thoughts of the lab, and of HIM.
The room was mostly dark, except for the machine lights from the buttons and sparks. Basking in the glow of his console, the man in the labcoat cackled with glee.
"Mwa ha ha ha ha ha ha haaa! A successful transfiguration of species! This one goes down in the BOOK! How are you feeling then, my tuck'd friend? Smart enough to appreciate the powers of my incredible Gene Machine?"
"Who are ya talkin' to, Doc? The animals again?"
"No, no! Well...yes, yes...but not the same! Behold, where there had once been the mighty Walrex, now STANDS...a Man-Rus!"
Indeed! The super mutant looking in on the Doc now saw that the machine contained a somewhat-humanoid form that had originally been one of the irradiated sea-predators, the deadly Walrex.
"Okay, but what for?"
"If I can transform an animal to a man, skirting YEARS of evolution ever so quickly-quickly, then I can initiate into your kind the powerful growth stage that has been seen in this area. I theorize that it is a unique trigger, much in the same way that your genes determine your height, your shape, your capability of intellect, and so on. If I can make a monster into a man, I can make a man into a monster...or a monster into an even-greater monster! All I need is the will, and the time to work, and then WE SHALL RULE THE WORLD!!"
It's just not easy being the product of somebody else's work.
FalloutJack: Come with me, you two. We might be able to work something out.
It was bizarre watching this man eat and drink. The food just disappeared into his mask! Either that or he was just that good. Still, he led Dudley and Evan to a waiting Vertibird over the hill, indicated for the two of them to get inside, and off they were.
FalloutJack: I'm afraid our organization won't be needing energy weapons anytime soon. It's a matter of fact that we ourselves carry the best around. There are, however, certain skills that men of your trade could provide us with. You must have certain technical expertise, combat ability, a certain education...if you were to be selling servicable wares.
Dudley: That's a given.
FalloutJack: I put it to you, let me give you an idea of the place and our people, and then decide...
Evan: Decide what?
FalloutJack: Whether you'd like to be working with us, instead of trying to merely sell to us. The benefits are rather decent.
Evan: Are you really gonna show us the base and then give us a CHOICE?
FalloutJack: Tut, tut... I'm not showing you anything confidential. The main base is off-limits. You'll be seeing the Fort only.
Well, they weren't stupid, after all. The Enclave was keeping all of their new recruits on the surface in the Fort Knox facilities and barracks with every perimeter wall and auto-gun available. They were taking NO chances. Meanwhile, William was in a bit of a pickle. He had come past an area with cages of mind-controlled Deathclaws...to penetrate into an area that SEEMED to be Enclave territory, but that something was off. The first hint was that the powersuits had seemed...slightly weathered? And the next was the officer. Nobody wore officer uniforms anymore, which meant that the woman who had him covered with a plasma pistol was...not in the regular roster. And her smile broadened with 'Oh, you're precious' written all over it as he tried to explain himself. Charisma was something he had AND it was good at using, but...you couldn't lie your way out of something you had wrong to begin with.
"Nice try, but this area is hidden from even them and YOU smell of the wasteland."
She nodded at someone behind him and holstered her weapon. The charge-up sound behind him indicated that there were two powersuits behind him with rifles trained on his back. She turned to walk down a hall and one of the soldiers said "March", indicating that he follow. Here, they came to an empty room with a bare lightbulb, a table, and a few chairs. One of the soldiers said "Siddown" as the woman took a seat on the other side of the table, facing it backwards towards William so that she could lean on its back.
"Now then, a little disclosure: You're either an incredible spy or a complete idiot, because you are standing in a section of Fort Knox long-forgotten by even the Enclave. To wit, this is a renegade facility, which is why you are not dead...yet. We call it the Enclave Underground, the haven of those of the last regime that the new one didn't agree with."
Wait, it's called the EU? Has this roleplay just gone political?! No! Stop it! Bad Jake! No breaking the fourth wall!
"I am Captain Alice Errol, put in charge of these men and women. You will call me Captain, unless I feel like getting familiar. Now, you will tell me what the HELL you're doing down here, and you'd better make it full-disclosure AND entertaining."
While William is deciding just what to tell the lady Captain, here are some vital statistics.
You're probably wondering what happened to Bob.
That is, just what was it that was going on with him while he was being shot at along with the Behemoth Knight with the hammer. Well first, he was interfered with by Monkey Style. That was actually cleaned off rather quickly as his armor was engulfed in fire and incinerated the shit that'd been thrown at the mask of his helmet. From there, he had been attempting to take down the Behemoth by hand through single-minded Beowulf-like purpose, ignoring all things surrounding him like it were some kind of battle-frenzy. He leapt at the mutant's FACE and wrestled with it, even as Lucy shouted at him for attention with bullets and gauss rifle slugs. Half of her shots were off the mark because of the nature of her rage and due to all the thrashing about that was going on. Remember, this is a Behemoth with armor and a big fucking hammer being attacked by at least two other powersuited men, if not Marlon, Lucy, Barry, Shifty, and the BoS as well.
Entire clips of ammo were used up and only some of it rent and dented Bob's armor, which was still flame-on as he kept attacking the Behemoth. He didn't pay attention to Lucy or Shifty or even Frank, really. What he SHOULD HAVE been watching were the boys of the BoS taking Frank's old do-it-yourself experimental railgun - Did he, by any chance, know a guy called Triple-M? - and putting it to good use. They took the shot and ripped the Behemoth in half, where Bob rode the upper-half to its conclusive end. Frank would be doing his system's check about now, as Bob pounded on the Behemoth's torso.
Bob: Come on! Give me the coordinates! You can't die on me now! YOU NEVER GAVE UP IN YOUR ENTIRE LIFE!!
He attempted to start the monster's heart again, but by this time it was on fire because of his suit and he let out a large...
...before finally settling down and turning off the fire, standing up and turning to everyone else in the area and speaking aloud.
Bob: Well, so much for that. Any calls while I was out?
Then, he saw Frank, and pointed at him in a manner that said 'The entire universe is pointing at you'.
Bob: You. You dirty so-and-so. I was going to get the enemy coordinates from this bastard, but now you've ruined it.
Suddenly, he disengaged his helmet, pulling it off to reveal that of a dark-eyed handsome tough with slicked-back black hair. Yes, he did indeed look spanish.
Bob: I'll do your mano-a-mano...
Now, he was taking off his ARMOR.
Bob: ...with nothing but fists and the flesh...
Wait a minute!! He's taking off his CLOTHES?!
Bob: ...right down to the skivvies, if you have the courage to follow!!
FalloutBob was challenging Frank Rose to follow through with his duel, unarmed, and without even covering his shame! He was buck naked muscle-gound for all the world to see, standing there with his chest thrust out and...yowza! Now what, Franky-boy?
OOC: Soup, I'd like to collab your next post to handle the fight. PM me about it, please.
Jackson sat and stared at the mutants, before he simply groaned.
"Son of a bitch." he rubbed his forehead, and thought of ways to get by the group. He could let them be and drive past, but he got the feeling they wouldn't like that. And would probably make a tasteful necklace out of his limbs.
Option two was simply to plow into their shins and leg it, but that would mean his jeep'd go bye bye, and he was carrying alot of shit in here he didn't want to carry. He sighed, and an idea came to him. He checked the fuel gauge, saw it was full... huh. Whatever. He checked the back, and got a jar of who knows what the fuck, some packing peanuts, and tore off part of his sleeve. He used his combat knife to cut a slit into the top of the jar, and stuffed the sleeve into it. He discarded it for now, getting out and retrieving some of the gas. He poured into the jar, putting some of the workable styrofoam into it, and stirring it with a pencil. He screwed the lid on, and found his lighter.
He pulled up to the behemoths, who were conversing during his dabbling in science.
"Science motherfuckers." He stated clearly, before throwing the lit bottle at them, and driving off. He knew he did it right by the flames he could see in the rear view mirror. He grinned, donning his aviator sunglasses.
Wayne had finally gotten his Pip-boy map working with a few well places taps to the screen, it appeared that where he had been seeing the flashes and heard the bangs come from, was close to he city centre, exactly where he assumed the Enclave would be based. Of course, tight streets and ageing skyscrapers presented a new level of danger, and Wayne much preferred a nice open space for the best line of sight.
He turned to enter the Nuka-cola plant and find Stan when the ground shook violently beneath him, throwing him off balance. He ran as best as he could to put some distance between himself and the localised earthquake and drew his rifle. As soon as he saw the blue glow he knew what he was up against. "You crabby fuckers never learn do ya?" And reached for a stick of dynamite... And he would've blown the thing up before it could get out if he hadn't left the rest of his dynamite in his Robo-brain. Quickly tapping at his Pip-boy for it to come to him he looked up to see the Nukalurk fully above ground, it's gaze fixed right on him.
"Take this fish face" he shouted as he fired his rifle right at its face. "Oh shit.." The bullet had no effect. This Nukalurk was much different to the others, it's face was armoured and its body much bigger. It snarled and leapt, covering a good 15 feet in one bound and swinging for Wayne, who just managed to jump aside and avoid this SupaNukalurk. It turned, swinging its claw around to pound him. Wayne used his rifle as a shield to block the attack, launching it from his hands before swinging the other claw, connecting right below his rib cage, knocking the wind out of him and sending him stumbling to the side. Pulling out his revolver he fired 3 shots directly at the creatures face, hoping to do at least some damage, but to no avail. It simply charged and body slammed him, sending him flying onto his back, revolver still in hand.
Wayne turned to his front and began crawling to the building. " STTAAAAAANNN!!!!" He yelled as loud as his winded lungs allowed him. The creature slowly creeping up on him, as if it were taunting him for his weakness. Grabbing his left leg and pulling him up in the air Wayne screamed at the pain it was causing his knee. "YOU SON OF A BITCH!!" He yelled as he fired another 2 shots at the creatures face, making it very angry. It grabbed his hand with its other claw, pointing his revolver away from itself, this thing obviously had some intelligence to know which end was the naughty end of the weapon. It pulled him slowly to its mouth, it's mandibles reaching out to pull him further in. Wayne took a breath and assessed the situation, he was fucked, he stared forward, waiting for either help or the Grim Reaper to arrive, when he noticed a weak point.
The SupaNukalurks joints weren't armoured, obviously to allow a range of movement. Reaching up for his hatchet he took a wild swing at the beasts knee joint. Success! The hit landed, the creature wailed and dropped him to the ground. Wayne crawled as fast as he could to the door, getting his second wind, the Robo-brain finally opening the door and heading toward him. Wayne just prayed at this point that somebody was following it out.
The Enclave man stood before Frank. Naked as the day he was born.
Just shoot the asshole!
You challenged him, you have to prove you're better than him.
Prove that our Kung-Fu is more powerful than his!
Under normal circumstances, Frank would have just shot the naked man, and been done with it, but this guy pissed him off. Frank needed to send a message. He needed to be put down. Hard.
Frank started wearing his armor non-stop because he didn't hear the voices of his dead father figures when he wore the armor. With his armor damaged, he could hear them again.
[Perception]Frank did not suspect any foul play.
Frank threw his pistol and displacer glove to the ground, and took off his armor, revealing a very naked, very large, very pale, very hairy, very smelly man. His facial features appeared to be of mixed Russian-Jewish (Father's side) and French (Mother's side)
[Piercing Strike][Striking points: Armor 100][Unarmed 100/90]"You have no idea what a good move having this fight be without armor is on your part. I've learned to turn an opponent's power-armor into a liability."
"Hah! You may think so, but I have learned to turn an opponents turning-things-against-you against THEM!"
He stands there, hands on his hips and standing QUITE erect, talking what we hope to be nonsense. That's the way the Bob rolls.
Root your stance.
Prepare to counter.
Just pick up your gun and shoot him!
"Can we agree on the ground rules of leaving each other's sex-organs out of this?"
Clearly, while Bob was flagpoling here, the problem of genetalia had not even occurred to him.
"Yeah, sure. A man's privates are his own private personal parts."
Frank took up a fighting stance
"Then come at me Brosideon, Lord of Broceans!"
He tilted his head in confusion for a second, then thrust his index finger out to waggle it about in a chiding manner.
"No no, that is not my name. If you didn't catch it before, I am...FALLOUT..."
Suddenly, the man leapt with incredible tackling from a stand-still position to come bearing down upon Frank!
[Unarmed 100/85]Frank attempted to catch Bob out of his tackle, and shove him out of the way, but Bob would not be dislodged. Bob did however get elbowed in the spine.
The two naked men fell into a tumble, Bob throwing Frank off, but Frank grabbed onto Bob's chin in mid-flight, and attempted to wrench his neck with the force of his flying body.
Shooting him would be so much easier you know.
Frank did indeed wrench Bob's neck, but then Bob stood up and started snapping his neck with these delightful crunching sounds that people that do that a lot make.
Good for a start, but you'll have to do better. Body like steel! Mind like meatloaf! HAVE AT YOU!!
He jumped up and tried to double-foot-stomp really hard down at Frank.
"I do enjoy a good meatloaf..."
Frank rolled out of the way.
You know what to do.
Frank struck at the back of Bob's left knee.
The knee pit folded up in response to the Lotus Kick and Bob fell back onto the ground. And then, directly after, Bob forcefully barrel-rolled his body at Frank's legs to try and knock him over.
A plan that doesn't plan for plans outside of the plan is not much of a plan at all!
Frank attempted to slam his knees into Bob as he fell.
No dice. Glancing blow on a spinning man, if at all. He didn't even feel the stones on the ground, let alone that. He sprang up, took a Greco-Roman wrestlling stance, and shouted...
"Now, it's BENDING TIME! HWAAH!!"
What? Greco-Roman IS naked wrestling. Ancient Olympics. Look it up. Bob effectively dogpiled onto Frank and he was now trying to put the man into a hold that would bend him over backwards in a U-shape, meaning that his spine would be more useful as an amusing centerpiece than anything else, afterword.
Frank elbowed and headbutted Bob to get loose, and scrambled to his feet.
Greco-Roman. This guy think's he's funny. You know what do do when people try to be funny.
"That's funny. But there's nothing funny about..."
[Unarmed 100/100][Argyle's special training][Striking points: Medicine]"...THE EAGLE CLAW!"
As soon as Frank's hand went out - yes, even though he was butted and elbowed - his hand grabbed Frank's wrist as Frank tried to pull out his heart. Frank's fingers DID manage to put pressure on his chest, which showed just how both the Eagle Claw could BE...and how fast the most-physical member of the Fallout Sector was in return.
Dueling heart-pull syndrome! With one swift Indy reference, Bob thrust HIS free hand over at Frank to try and pull out HIS heart!
Someone's been watching too many old movies.
Frank attempted to swipe Bob's hand out of the way, then leaned in to headbutt Bob and drive his hand further in.
That's not good. Frank is clearly a strong man and was able to apply the force necessary to displace the ramming hand away from its target. He did that, but...it continued on into his shoulder. And let me tell you, amigo, if a man's aiming to pull out your heart and he misses...whatever he hits still gets harmed. In any case, the head-butting.
Oh, so THAT'S the way you want it, do you?!
Bob started head-butting BACK, and you can tell he's done so on numerous occasions.
How...do you think...I got...to the top...of the RANKS?! Los latinos han mutado y estamos novatadas el planeta!
"I guess now would be the time to tell you, I cheat when I'm frustrated."
Frank kneed Bob in the crotch, causing him to leap backwards and scream.
"You are a total bastard..."
"Let's try this again..."
"...Nut checks are always funny, but you want to know what's not funny?.."
[Unarmed 100/100][Argyle's special training][Striking Points: Medicine]"THE EAGLE CLAW! ...Again..."
As soon as Frank said it, Bob's adrenaline-surged body KICKED the arm away.
"WILL YOU STOP THAT?!"
Their fight was interrupted by the crackle of a laser rifle. Elder Lyons and several Brotherhood soldiers had shown up.
"I hate to interrupt such great entertainment, but there's a madman with some giant mutants at large and we don't have time for this shit. You men, take this man away and put him in a cell, triple-guarded. Frank? Take a bath. You need it."
"Dibs oh his armor.."
Told you to shoot the bastard.
Bob looked rather embarrassed at the whole situation, but he was taken away, quoting name, rank, and favorite cereal. Sarah glared at Frank for his comment, then said in a lowered voice.
"I wouldn't trust any piece of that man's equipment, except as a baseline to start building some of our own. Still, it'll have to be thoroughly tested, because it may be boobytrapped. And while it might be fun to watch you two kill each other, I need intel in the worst way."
"Don't worry, the plan was to gut out the important bits, and improved plating. My old armor is in severe need of repair. I would expect high-end enclave tech to have some sort of bioscan and explode if worn by the wrong person. That's why I'm gutting it."
There appeared to be some BoS soldiers treating it like a very volatile bomb, testing to see if his equipment could even be MOVED first.
"Just stick to procedure this time around. If you trigger something just BY tampering, well, it would be a shame if you blew up. Now, get out of here before you traumatize any small children."
"It's a little late for that."
Frank armored back up, and started dragging a nearby dead paladin back to his workshop so he could make repairs using his armor.