Andronicus23

The Long Afternoon of the Mojave (A Fallout Roleplay)

Years Ago in the Mojave

A host of brahmin-skin yurts encircled a great fire deep within a desert valley. Night had fallen on the Mojave, and strange figures danced around the amber glow of the flame, casting menacing shadows which twisted in the flickering light. Each of the dancers were dressed in various animal costumes and horned headdresses, representing individual spirits or demons equal parts worshiped and feared by the tribe.

One figure stood out above the rest, a great headdress surmounted by the effigy of a snake twisted around it. He held out a gnarled staff and raised his arms high to the sky.

“Great Serpent, hear our pleas! Blessed be your servants here gathered. The Slither Kin! We praise you and beseech you to drive out the enemies of your people.”

A young girl, auburn haired, looked on at the proceedings with fear. Her bright green eyes wide with fright while her arms hugged tightly at a well-worn homemade doll. Someone wrapped a comforting hand around her. The girl looked up and smiled, seeing the reassuring matching green eyes of her mother.

“Be still Little Viper,” She cooed, “It will all be over soon. You must be brave.”

“Old windbag,” A gruff voice added and a fat figure sat down next to her, “Great Serpent this, Great Serpent that. Oooooo...spooky. Ha!” The man grinned and looked down on her with a glowing smile, “But you ain’t scared of that old pruny shaman are you?”

The girl giggled at her father’s joke, “No! But Penelope is!” She continued sadly, holding up her doll.

“Ah well I can help with that!” He said, grabbing the doll and hugging it tightly.

The girl laughed at her father’s antics, but her mother shot him a glaring look.

“You shouldn’t make fun during the ceremony…”

“Beh he does it everytime we go on hunt. He just likes hearing the sound of his voice.”

“Great Serpent, protect your brave warriors!” The shaman screeched, and with a resounding thug he cracked his staff against the ground. The costumed figures around the fire immediately stopped their dancing, and fell down in heaps on the ground as if struck dead by some magic.

The girl looked up at her father, who mouthed a “Finally….” And she couldn’t help but giggle again.

Just as the Shaman had finished his ritual someone stepped into the glow of the circle, another member of their tribe,

“They’re here,” He announced solemnly. The girl looked up at her father, and his expression turned dour. Which immediately set her on edge.

“Little Viper run to your tent and go to bed,” her mother urged, “Do as I say, now…”

Without waiting for explanation, the girl leapt up and ran to their yurt. Rather than hiding under her covers, she peeked out the cloth door, watching intently as her father and several other men of the tribe rose to meet whoever was coming.

She held her breath as their guests stepped out of the shadows, and she had to hold a hand over her mouth to stop herself from screaming. A host of nightmarish warriors entered the campire circle, pale skinned and covered head to toe in cloth stitched with innumerable bones. They wore masks carved from human skulls which covered the top halves of their faces, giving them an inhuman visage. Much to her terror, she saw that some seemed to be dragging sacks which oozed blood like a gaping wound.

To the young girl shivering in fear, they were nothing less than living monsters.

A woman, seemingly their leader, stepped forward. She had on a particularly gruesome skull mask with goat-horns sewn ontop, and wore a bloodied cloak made from human skin draped around her shoulders. She was hauntingly beautiful yet utterly terrifying, the image of a demoness right out of the tribe's mythos.

Her father stepped forward, unafraid of the demon woman’s presence,

“Welcome, would you care to share our fire?”

The demon woman shook her head, but did not reply.

“We’d offer to share a meal, but it looks like you’ve already brought some to go,” Her father said, pointing at the sacks. That elicited a few, nervous, chuckles from his fellow Slither Kin, but then the strange woman hissed back a threat,

“Perhaps, you wish to become our breakfast?”

Slither Kin warriors reached for their weapons, as did the cannibals, but no-one made a move. Her father motioned for them all to be calm.

“Where is your Chieftain?” The woman snarled.

“Out on a hunt,” Her father replied quickly, “But I can speak for our tribe here. We all know what needs to be done…”
“The Boot-Riders are becoming a problem,” Her father continued, “They need to be dealt with. Harshly.”

“You propose an alliance,” The woman hissed, “We don’t ally with prey.”

“Nor do we,” He snapped back, “Watch yourself, those little underground burrows of yours are not so-secret to us, and it wouldn’t take much to smoke you out. We’ve done it before, or have you forgotten the taste of our poison?”

Several of the cannibals snarled, baring sharpened teeth like cornered wolves, but the woman ignored her fellow tribesman's anger. She raised a hand revealing a bladed gauntlet streaked with still-fresh blood, and ran a finger along the crimson ichor before bringing it to her lips and sampling it with a devilish grin.

“Never.....very well Slither Kin, what is it you plan to do?”

Her father returned the expression with a grin of his own,

“Wage war.”

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lucy awoke suddenly with a start, her brow was streaked with sweat and she was panting hard. Memories she’d never truly forgotten had come flooding back to her, and she stared up at the ceiling of her Penthouse suite in Gomorrah. Images from her dream morphed into her vision, and for a brief moment, she thought the plastered ceiling was the animal-skin roof of a yurt.

She sat up and got out of bed, walking over to a nearby chest. She flipped open the lid and rummaged around inside. Her hands gripped a small object, and she pulled it out.

It was a doll, well-worn and covered in the dirt of the road and faded from the burning sun. She held it tightly against her.

“Some things never really change,” She whispered to it softly.

The Long Afternoon of the Mojave (A Fallout Roleplay)

Dominic Omerta - Gomorrah Mezzanine

Dominic watched with a sly grin plastered on his face as Daniel “Nines” wrestled with the notion of seizing control. He went back and forth with himself, trying to come up with reasons why it would be impossible, but each point was counterbalanced with a separate reason in favor. Finally, he seemed to quell his mind, and settled on a course of action.

"Sir, I'm not excessively fond of indebtedness. I'd like to earn what favors you bestow. I'll allocate space in my schedule to ensure it. My price is a week's usage of a couple dozen experienced soldiers, and two hundred gallons of freshwater. You'd score a valuable ally in exchange, and your pick of the finer elements of our coffers, even after the square trade of labor."

“Done,” Dominic said with barely a moment’s hesitation. The price for having a worthy ally on his side was paltry, frankly, and he’d gladly pay it several times over if it meant having a man in power within the Vaulters that he could rely on. He was glad that his judgment hadn’t failed him here...Daniel certainly hadn’t disappointed.

"Wait, why do I crave authority now? I didn't desire this prior. I've no grand machinations!" Daniel focused his attention to a nit on a nearby wall. "But it's possible..."

“Because you know that your people need you,” Dominic offered as he sat back in his chair, “Because without a firm hand to quell differences, they’ll fall back on infighting. But you also know how to prevent that, and only you know exactly what’s needed to see them flourish.”

“It's not about craving anything Nines,” Dominic continued as he folded his hands on the table in front of him, “It's simply a matter of duty...but if you can also enjoy the fruits of power, well, then so be it...” he smiled.

“Now as for my price…” He said, thinking carefully, “I don’t require much. You see Nines, I have my own, admittedly selfish, reasons for ensuring your success and also why I was eager to meet with you. For one, I need a firm independent ally outside the influence of the NCR, that is paramount above all else, but I also need some...assistance with another matter.”

He leaned in, “I need someone, or a group of someone's, with some considerable expertise in pre-war technology...RobCo security and network systems, to be precise. As I understand it, RobCo was the primary contractor Vault-Tec used to construct much of their computing network: pip-boys, networked computers, Vault security systems... Naturally, I’d hope your people might have some expertise in that field, and that you might be willing to work with me on my own little project.”

Dominic smiled, “It would be a potentially very lucrative partnership, I assure you, and one that could certainly result in some boons for your people. What do you say? Do we have a deal?” He held out his hand to Daniel.

The Long Afternoon of the Mojave (A Fallout Roleplay)

Don Dominic Omerta - Gomorrah Mezzanine

Dominic took the gracious gift offered by Daniel or “Nines” as he called himself. The potholders were a quaint gift, but none-the-less welcome. The symbolism of the gift was more far important than the practicality of it, and Dominic had certainly gotten stranger gifts from various peoples. He once received a mummified mole rat paw from a friendly Zion tribal shaman who claimed it was “good medicine” and would “bring him luck.”

“Thank you my friend, sincerely,” Dominic said as he handed them to Marjorie.

“Oh aren’t these just darling….” Marjorie crooned as she looked them over, “How very whimsical!”

Dominic then listened intently as Daniel explained his current predicament. Apparently he was having some internal misgivings about how to deal with a couple of heir-apparents within his organization. Two women, both very capable, vying for power. One with the backing of the former leadership, the other with powerful friends: neither willing to give up their ultimate ambition. It was a tale as old as time. Even before they were Omertas, Dominic had seen this scenario time and time again within the old Slitherkin tribe.

He noticed Daniel looking nervously around at the other people seated on the Mezzanine, most were lost in their own reverlies, but he assumed this matter must be a delicate one indeed for his guest and he wasn’t comfortable have an audience: even an inatentive one.

Dominic first turned to Marjorie with a look, and Marjorie nodded in agreement. Business was business, she understood.

“Well I must be off,” She announced suddenly, “ Mortimer is throwing another one of his little soirees later. He’s introducing one of his new dishes….quite the affair you understand. A pleasure to meet you Mr. Floyd. Please stop by the Ultra Luxe anytime you wish, we’d love to have you for dinner.”

With appropriate flourish, Marjorie then left the Mezzanine.

Once she was gone, Dominic raised a hand and snapped a finger. The other guests at the remaining tables immediately stopped their conversations, stood up, carefully pushed their chairs in, and then quietly filed out of the mezzanine without a word. The Omerta thug doorman was the last to leave, and closed the door on his way out.

Now Daniel and Dominic were alone, and the real conversation could begin.

“I have a suggestion for you Nines,” Dominic said after a few moments of silence between the pair, “But I’m afraid you probably aren’t going to like it. That being said, you did come all the way to the King of Sin for advice, so I’m going to assume you’re looking for an answer that one of your fellow compatriots never would think to offer up: or dare to.”

Dominic leaned back in his chair and gave a shrug, “You just explained to me in sufficient detail the strengths and weaknesses of both these women, and what your people might gain from the leadership of each. I may be just an old crook, but it seems to me that the answer to your question is ‘neither’. Neither will ever be happy under the rule of the other, and will no doubt cement distrust and rebellion that could cause fractures within your group. What you need is someone who can take the strengths of both, and blend them appropriately for the betterment of your people. You need a supreme leader at the top, not a pair of bickering sisters unwilling, or unable, to seek compromise.”

“Allow me to lend a sword to your little Gordian Knot…” Dominic gave a devilish grin,

“Have you considered your own claim to power, Nines?”

The Long Afternoon of the Mojave (A Fallout Roleplay)

Don Dominic Omerta - Gomorrah

Daniel swallowed, doffing his hat again. "Advice, for certain discreet matters of state."

Clarice narrowed her eyes at the caravaner. She still didn't like him, not after the chaos he caused in her well-organized lobby, but…it ultimately wasn't up to her. She'd just have to grin and bear it.

"As it happens…" she sighed, "Don Dominic was expecting you to come calling. He said that whenever you showed up, I was to send you up. He's currently on the mezzanine…."

---

Clarice led Daniel through the main floor debauchery of Gomorrah before climbing a set of stairs and ascending to the mezzanine level. Here she knocked three times on a door, before an Omerta-made man opened it. The well-dressed thug looked cross for a moment as he eyed the pair.

“Mr. Floyd to see the Don,” She offered simply in explanation.

The thug’s face softened and he nodded in understanding, stepping aside and allowing the Daniel in.

Dominic was seated at a card table with another dapper-looking gangster seated across from him. An array of playing cards had been splayed out in front of them in two distinct neat ‘fans’. The pair of them were taking turns swapping cards and purposely laying them into their own respective groupings.

Behind Dominic, an immaculately dressed and of course white-gloved Marjorie looked down at her now-husband's card playing with a mixture of confusion and interest. A gold ring with a diamond the size of a sugar-cube sat squarely on her finger.

“Slow down Domy-dear, I can’t understand what’s happening when you two move so quick,” Marjorie pouted.

“Ah honey let us play the game eh? Don’t worry I’ll teach you all the rules later…” Dominic replied as he took a puff on a big cigar clasped between his fingers.

“He might need some help at the rate he’s losing….” Dominic’s rival player quipped.

“Quiet youse…” Dominic chuckled, “I still got a chance here.”

The Omerta thug that had let Daniel in cleared his throat audibly, drawing attention to himself and the newcomer.

“Apologies Don….Mr. Floyd to see you.”

“Ahhh Mr. Floyd, a pleasure my friend..” Dominic said as he, still seated, offered his hand, “Good to see you in person finally. Mikey why don’t you vamoose and let Mr. Floyd here take your seat. You won anyway…”

Dominic’s card-playing opponent tipped his hat with a grin, “Better luck next time Dom.”

“Ah get outta here you cheat,” Dominic fired back with a chuckle. He then ushered Daniel to sit in the open seat. Behind him Marjorie placed her hands on her husband's shoulders and gently began to rub them,

“Mr. Floyd,” Marjorie said with a glowing look, “Allow me to say that The White Gloves greatly appreciate the food stocks you sent. It was dreadful what happened with the recent flooding….those poor people. I felt so sorry for them…living in a slum to begin with and then having it all washed away….dreadful…simply dreadful. When my Dominic here suggested our families sent aid…I was all too willing to open our larders. It is the duty of the privileged to help the less fortunate, is it not? And the greater the privilege, the greater the responsibility of course.”

“Indeed” Dominic added, giving Daniel a wink and a sly grin that said, Just go along with it bud.

“So Mr. Floyd, or can I call you Daniel?” Dominic continued, leaning in, "What can ol’ Dom do for you?”

The Long Afternoon of the Mojave (A Fallout Roleplay)

This is my stab at the Omerta timeline -

October 19th - Don Dominic calls a sit-down of the Three Families to be held at the Ultra Luxe. Dominic, with the support of Marjorie, accuses Swank of breaking key tenets of The Contract. Swank denies all accusations and abruptly leaves the meeting without further elaboration.

October 25th - The Omerta Family begins a buildup of weapons and illicitly purchased military hardware, increasing their production of small arms across their compounds in Outer Vegas. These weapons are secretly shipped to the Strip. Omerta-affiliated thugs across Vegas are noticeably better armed. Iron Forester Mercs begin actively patrolling Omerta controlled areas of Vegas.

October 30th - Don Dominic Omerta and Marjorie of the White Gloves are married in an overly-elaborate ceremony at the Ultra Luxe. Various underworld figures linked to the Don from across the Southwest attend in a notable gathering of the whos-who of post-war organized crime. The White Gloves and Omerta Families are formerly united by marriage ties. None of the Chairmen attend, nor are they invited.

November 1st - A gunfight erupts between several armed groups in Freeside. The brief but violent skirmish results in 18 dead. Rampant fear and speculation regarding further escalation of the Families’ conflict spreads throughout the city. The Heads of the Three Families all publicly deny any involvement and claim this was an unrelated gang conflict.

November 4th - The Flooding prompts the Omertas to evacuate several of their safehouses in Outer Vegas. In an unexpected move, Dominic publicly announces that the Omertas and White Gloves will be assisting the people of Outer Vegas and Freeside with relief and recovery efforts. Thousands of caps are spent on hiring laborers and opening Omerta-run shelters and soup kitchens to provide aid. The White Gloves agree to open up their considerable food larders to provide adequate stocks to these locations. The Omertas supply a number of makeshift hospitals in the area with medical chems.

November 14th - Legion activity across the Colorado prompts an unusually unified response from the Three Families, who issue summons to the NCR ambassador for clarification on the situation.

The Long Afternoon of the Mojave (A Fallout Roleplay)

Gomorrah, Abraham “Honest Abe" Rockwood

Rockwood sat brooding within his office on the 4th floor of Gomorrah, the smoldering stub of a cigarette still clutched in his fingers. Since returning from Freeside, he’d been contemplating the information Tommy ‘Quickfinger’ had shared before his very sudden untimely passing. The arrogant conman had told quite the story before he’d died. Now the only question was what was going to be done about it.

His door opened, and Rockwood looked up to see Lucy striding in. The Omerta Family Heir apparent was looking as beautiful, and dangerous, as ever,

“You wanted to talk Abe?” She said as her high heel clapped against the floor leading to his desk. She took a seat in one of the nearby chairs, propping her feet up on a footstool, “I hear you had quite the little adventure in Freeside.”

“That I did Lucrezia.”

“And?” She raised a skeptical eyebrow, “Well don’t keep me in suspense, what’s the bad news?”

He sighed, then took another drag on his cigarette stub, “That conman? Tommy? He was working for Swank.”

Lucy rolled her eyes, “Don’t be dramatic Abe.I know you hate the Chairmen with an admirable fucking passion, but this isn’t all that surprising. I’ll admit this is a new low but…”

“That ain’t the bad news,” Rockwood interrupted, shaking his head, “The bad news is it isn’t a one-off. The Chairmen are building a network of thieves, with the sole goal of driving away traffic from Gomorrah and stirring up shit with the NCR troopers to boot. He’s directly, blatantly, violating The Contract.”

“Ah, well that’s different then,” It was Lucy’s turn to sigh, “Tommy told you all this then? How can you be sure he wasn’t just making shit up to save his skin?”

“Let’s just say I corroborated his testimony,” Rockwood smirked, then took one last drag on his cigarette before smashing the tiny remnant into his ashtray, “I had a feeling something was off. A lowlife pickpocket like Tommy wouldn’t have had the balls to try something like this on his own. Someone had to be offering him something else.”

Lucy leaned back in her chair, “My father won’t like it.”

“No he won’t,” Rockwood rubbed at his forehead, “I’m not a psychic, but…I can guess what will happen next. The Don will ask for a sitdown of the Families to resolve this, as he well should to be seen as reasonable, and Swank will flatly deny everything. When negotiations fail, we’ll be left to resolve this on our own, which means taking down this little network of Swank’s cell by cell. Inevitably someone, somewhere, is going to do something stupid, and we’re going to end up fighting Chairmen associates if not Chairmen button-men themselves in the streets.”

“The makings of a war,” Lucy finished his thought.

“Mark my words…It’ll only escalate from here.” Rockwood nodded.

“About time,” Lucy smirked, “The Slitherkin and the Mojave Boot-riders have a score to settle, once and for all. This has been a long time coming.”

“You know your father has banned those names.”

“I prefer them…..it's important to remember where we come from, or do you disagree?”

Rockwood smiled, he had to admire Lucy’s tenacity and admirable fondness for the old ways. Even if he couldn’t publicly do so,

“I don’t disagree,” He said plainly.

Lucy gave a devilish grin, “Good, then when my father puts me in charge of fighting this war, and he will, we’ll be settling this the old way. The tribal way.”

The Long Afternoon of the Mojave (A Fallout Roleplay)

Freeside, The Atomic Wrangler - Now Youse Can’t Leave

“Another round for me and my boys James, keep the drinks coming.”

James Garrett eyed his three regulars suspiciously. They consisted of Tommy ‘Quickfinger’ Morales and his two cronies, Jack and Paul. The three of them had been at it practically all night, gambling big at the tables, drinking it up, and rotating between various hookers. They must have blown close to 4,000 caps by now. Tommy was notoriously lazy, so it was hard to believe they’d made those caps doing anything resembling honest labor. Not that it really mattered either way.

“You still good for it?” James asked as he placed three empty glasses on the counter.

“Eyyy who are you talking to here?” Tommy replied with mocking derision as he slammed a small pile of caps on the bar, “.....I’m always good for it.”

“Not always,” James muttered and poured the three their choice drinks, “Just where did you get all those caps anyhow? Didn’t steal it, did you?”

“Steal it? Fuck no. I won this fair and square on the Strip,” Tommy protested, he then gave a sly grin, “A lucky smoother-talker…that’s all I am.”

“Yeah whatever Tommy,” James sighed, “As long as you keep paying…I don’t care.”

Tommy shrugged as James walked away to serve other customers, and he then turned back to his cronies, “Drink up boys we earned it.”

Suddenly Tommy's attention was directed towards the front entrance of the Atomic wrangler where a pair of women entered the casino. Tommy was immediately intrigued, they didn’t look like tourists, in fact, they looked more like wasteland raiders with their punk hair and numerous tattoos. All that only made them stand out more to him though. Of course, the skimpy clothing they wore certainly added to their appeal.

Tommy’s eyes followed them across the Wrangler’s floor until they seemed to turn to look at him. He took a short sip on his whiskey as the pair appeared to chat between themselves, then they sauntered up to the bar and pulled up a couple chairs directly across from him. By this point, Jack and Paul were both looking at the two women as well, and immediately had their full attention. As always though, Tommy took to the lead.

“Ladies,” He said, trying to sound as smooth as he could through slurred speech, “Care for a drink.”

The pair let out a giggle, and nodded eagerly,

“James!” Tommy yelled out, “Two Atomic cocktails for these fine young ladies here.”

“Quit shouting Tommy,” James growled as he returned to fix the drinks. Once he sat the made cocktails on the bar and collected the caps, he was gone again.

“Plenty more where that came from,” Tommy grinned as he scooted close to the two women, “Now what are your names?”

---

Tommy, Paul, and Jack spent the better part of two hours chatting up the girls, each one trying to one-up the other in the tales of their exploits. Before long, Tommy had his arm around one of them, who he’d learned was named Lacy, and was acting like she was already his girl. That just left Jake and Paul to fight over the other girl, who’s name was Marissa.

Their good times were interrupted suddenly when a pair of men with the same sort of raider-look approached the group.

“Stealing our girls? Get the fuck away from them!” One of the men demanded angrily as he strode up to Tommy.

“WHOA WHOA back off asshole,” Tommy snapped back as he shoved the man aside.

Pretty soon Jack and Paul were also on their feet, ready to fight, and certainly it looked like one was about to break out between the five men.

“OUT! ALL OF YOU!” The shrill voice of Francine Garret rang out over the wrangler, “I’ve had enough. Get out or I’ll have you all thrown out.” The Garret twins hired goons immediately began making their way over, eager to do just that..

“Let’s go somewhere else,” Lacy suggested as she pulled at Tommy’s suit-coat.

“Yeah….no problem toots,” Tommy replied, “Jack…Paul…let’s blow this joint. We’ll just take out caps elsewhere.”

“Good riddance!” Francine called out after them as they left the Wrangler.

They stepped out onto the streets of Freeside, and the trio began following where the two women led. The men who’d confronted them appeared to just disappear into the crowd, and didn’t seem to be after them. Tommy breathed a sigh of relief, he talked a big talk, but when it came to actually fighting he was a complete coward.

“Where are we going?” Tommy finally asked Lacy, who was still hanging on his arm.

“This great place down the road, called The Rad Rat. Ever been there?”

“Huh, can’t say that I have,” Tommy said with a surprised look. He knew practically every place in town, so he was shocked he actually hadn’t. “Is it new?”

“Just opened,” Lacy replied with a suggestive look, “You’ll love it.”

---

The girls led them down several winding, twisting streets and back alley-ways until they came to a part of Freeside that Tommy had never been before. The place they stopped at was an unmarked pre-war joint, that looked like an old hole-in-the-wall bar.

“Classy,” Tommy quipped as they strode inside. There was no-one else in the bar, save for an odd looking bartender with a pencil-thin mustache, who was diligently cleaning a few glasses.

“Welcome,” the bar-keep said as they entered, “What can I get you?”

“Whatever drink is the most expensive,” Tommy said as he sat at the bar, “One for each of the boys, and two for the ladies,” he said with a smirk.

“Hmmm coming right-up."

“So baby,” Tommy cooed as he turned away from the bartender and pulled Lacy in closer, “What are your plans for tonight. Wanna shack-up at my place?”

“You’re Tommy Quickfinger ain’t ya?” The bartender suddenly asked, interrupting him as he continued making the drinks.

Tommy gave the nosy-bar keep the side-eye and growed, “Yeah, what’s it to you?”

“I hear you got a really good hustle going on the strip.”

Tommy looked back and forth between Jack and Paul, and then turned back to the bartender, “Who told you that old man?”

“Oh…just a friend of mine,” the bar-keep shrugged, “But you have been conning customers at Gomorrah, am I right?”

“Shut up and serve the drinks,” Tommy snapped back, “The fuck you think you are asking me questions like that?” He then turned back to Lacy with a smile, “And what if I did? Not like those assholes don’t deserve it. I gotta better things to spend that money on…like this fine dame here.”

“You ain’t afraid of the Omertas?” Lacy asked, batting her eye-lids, “How brave...”

“Eh, I ain’t afraid of them. But why would they care? Not like I’m robbing them of anything,” Tommy boasted. In his half-drunken stupor, he couldn’t help but keep talking, “Just robbing NCR goons anyway.”

There it was. Big Mistake.

Lacy and Marissa immediately stood up and walked over to a side door. Tommy held out his hands incredulously, “Ohhh hey, where are you girls goin’?”

Lacy just gave him a playful wave in response. The bartender sat down the half-made drink he was working on, and rounded the corner of the bar. Then made his way over to the entrance of the building.

“The fuck you doin?” Tommy demanded angrily.

The bartender pulled out a key, and……locked the door.

Tommy’s heart dropped down right into his stomach. In that moment, he knew he’d fucked up.

Rockwood turned back to the three conmen, a look of pure hatred etched across his face. “Don’t bother trying to bluff your way out,’ The Enforcer said plainly, “We know you aren’t armed.”

Tommy could only look on in horror as Omerta thugs began rushing out the side door, bats and knives in hand.

—-----------------------------

Hours later, three badly maimed bodies had been piled up next to the Strip’s wall in Freeside. A hastily scrawled message had been spray-painted behind them,

DON’T FUCK WITH THE FAMILY

The Long Afternoon of the Mojave (A Fallout Roleplay)

Gomorrah Zoara Club, Dominic Omerta

Benny scoffed, “Rebellion? Not at all. While I haven’t met the Colonel personally I can attest he is a loyal son of the Republic. Very few members of the NCR military have been afforded the autonomy and power he was given with his governorship of the Mojave. The fact he hasn’t abused that power is, I believe, a clear indicator of his allegiance to the state. However,” Benny stated uneasily “As I am sure you are well aware through your own experience, when you give a man power and independence. He can sometimes be reluctant to see it lessen.”

“Ah that’s very true. Especially when that man has the complete loyalty, love, and full backing of a own personal army that he has shepherded through trials and tribulations on the frontier,” Dominic leaned back in his chair, taking a long drag on his cigarette, and giving Benny a wry smile as he exhaled the smoke, “The loyalty of such a man, of course, is beyond dispute.”

Benny then talked about how the CSF would have far more discretion in application of force, a fact that didn’t surprise Dominic in the slightest. But a more salient point that Benny almost certainly would never admit to directly was that it also gave the NCR plausible deniability when such force was actually applied in….unofficial ways.

It was a sound tactic, and one he was very familiar with. The mercenaries he hired for Vegas were always a very convenient option when he needed to keep Omerta involvement to a minimum. Sometimes you just needed someone else’s fingerprints on the guns.

“I came here today to do more than just establish a dialogue between the Van-Graff administration and the families of the Strip. I believe, and I hope you’ll agree, that the future stability and profitability of the Mojave relies on a strong central authority here in Vegas. Through your actions you have clearly made strides in securing swathes of this city under the control of the Omerta family. I hope that as things change and we move closer to annexation the Van-Graff administration can rely upon their friends at the Gomorrah to step in when certain misguided individuals show objection to the obvious betterment of the city and territory at large.”

“Oh I completely agree,” Dominic laughed warmly and gave Benny an approving nod, “And of course, of course, you and the NCR can always rely on my family when called upon. I said it before and I’ll say it again, anything you need, you just let ol’ Dom know, eh?”

Dominic took a few more drags on his cigarette, then smashed the remained of it into a nearby ashtray,

“Well that was a fine conversation Benny,” Dominic said with a grin as he stood up from his seat, “Hell I wouldn’t mind sitting and chatting all day, but I’m afraid I’ve got other things to attend to this morning and I’m sure you do as well. Shit I’m sure we could both sit here all day smoking like chimneys and eatin’ some of that fine cake of yours and play hooky on our responsibilities....oh well, maybe another time eh?”

Benny smiled and nodded.

“Indeed Mr. Dominic, I find your company, familiar, to say the least. Please don’t hesitate to contact me again if you find yourself needing some assistance from the Van-Graff administration. We are always happy to assist our friends in New Vegas. Simply send any requests through Miss Gutierrez” Benny paused for a moment as he stubbed out his cigarette. “On that note I would like to ask for a minor favor before I depart. Miss Gutierrez seems to be one of the only competent employees left in the embassy. The majority of them are no doubt holdovers from previous administrations and representative of their failures. If you know of any competent trustworthy individuals looking for employment please do not hesitate to send them our way. I do realize it's quite a big task. After all, finding someone trustworthy in this city is no doubt like finding water in the desert. And yet,” he smiled large and white “Here we are.”

“Now,” Dominic continued, giving Benny a friendly pat on the back, “I hope you know I’m not about to kick you out of my Casino though. Please, stay as long as you like, take whatever food or drink you’d like, and hook up with any working girl, or two, or three, that catches your eye. And of course….you’ve got a complimentary penthouse suit in Gomorrah that you’re free to use whenever, and however you like. Not a bad gig Mr. Ambassador,” Dominic said with a wink, “But if Gomorrah isn’t your speed and you’d prefer the Ultra Luxe…well no harm no foul…hell you’d be making my fiance’ a very happy woman, so just let someone over there know and they’ll set you up right quick. Tell em’ Dom sent ya.”

“Well I am partial to the splendors of life. However, it would be best for myself and my office if I kept my nose clean, at least for now.” Benny gave teh old gangster a wink. “I’m sure once I get settled and sorted within the month I can find the time to fully enjoy the liberties offered at your fine establishments.”

“Pleased to have met you Benny, my door is always open if you need anything. You know your way out?"

“The pleasure is all mine sir.” Benny shook his hand “I’m sure I can trust one of your associates to help me find my way out.” Benny tipped his head toward the Don. “Till next we meet.”

"Goodbye and arrivederci my friend.” Dominic showed Benny to the door of the club and once the Ambassador had left, he turned back to
the red-headed waitress.

“Sally, fill up my plate,” He growled, as he sat back down at the table, “I need to think, and I don’t plan on doing that on an empty stomach.”

The Long Afternoon of the Mojave (A Fallout Roleplay)

Freeside - Santelli’s Deli, Abraham “Honest Abe” Rockford - Sniffing out a Con

Rockford took a long drag on his cigarette as he walked down the broken sidewalk of some nameless filth-covered street in Freeside. He kept his free hand stuffed in his pocket fingering the handle of a loaded snub nose .44, a necessary precaution venturing anywhere in the ghetto. Even an Omerta enforcer had to keep his wits about him, because while the Omertas had plenty of friends in Freeside, that was no guarantee that some foolhardy idiot wasn’t going to try his luck anyway.

Generally if you kept to the Boulevard and the area of Fremont Street itself, then you were relatively safe. Plenty of mercenaries and Omerta-hired goons patrolled those two streets escorting tourists to and from the strip. Once you started venturing off from that well-trodden path though? Well that’s where things got interesting.

As he continued down the street, Rockford stepped over the body of some poor schmuck lying face down in a puddle of his own making. Seemed obvious that the guy had OD’d at some point recently, given the empty syringes littering the ground around him. Rockford stooped down and observed the detritus, giving a rueful smile as he realized it was all Omerta-made. That wasn’t surprising though, most if not all the chems flowing into Freeside and Outer Vegas were somehow connected to his family. He felt a twinge of guilt at seeing how young the guy looked, but swiftly pushed it aside. Someone in his position couldn’t afford to feel sympathy for these addicts, otherwise he’d be spilling his heart out all over Vegas.

As he walked away, he looked behind him and saw some opportunistic guttersnipe run over to the corpse and start rummaging through the dead man’s pockets, then the kid kicked the body and ran off having apparently found nothing of value.

Just another day in Freeside, Rockford thought bitterly.

He tossed his spent cigarette to the side just as he arrived at his destination. It was a small red-bricked building that was squashed between two dilapidated apartment buildings. A large red and white sign above it read “Satriale's Pork Store” but that had been crossed out several times by crude streaks of black paint and underneath it, in bright bold red letters, was spelled out the place's new name “Santelli’s Deli”. Outside of the place, a few rough-looking men and women in tattered leather jackets and t-shirts wielding baseball bats were loitering around. They all sported tattoos and a wide variety of garish hairstyles that would not be out of place among raiders. As Rockford approached, one particular thug who looked like the leader of this misfit gang gave him a friendly nod, then opened the door for him.

Wanna-be gangsters, Rockford thought as he stepped inside, Probably somewhere on the Omerta payroll.

“Oh, hey Abe,” A rough voice greeted him as Rockford entered the worn-out interior of the deli. A ghoul in a blood-stained appron stepped around the counter, “Guess you got my message?”

“I did,” Abe nodded as he pulled out his red notepad, “So..what’d you got for me Tony?”

“Well I might have overhead somethin’ a couple nights ago,” The old ghoul said as he scratched at his necrotic chin, “Had a guy in here - well dressed. I figured he was a tourist at first, which was odd because tourists don’t come out this way - I only ever get locals. Anyways…I strike up a conversation with him and ask if he’s new around here: he says that used to live in Westside. I asked him, well then what do you do because you’ve got some fine fancy digs. Then I asked, ‘You workin’ for a casino?’”

“What did he say to that?”

“Eh he kinda chuckled weirdly at that then said, kinda, and that he’s got gig that he runs up on the strip. I asked him what kind of gig: he says ‘the kind that makes me a butt-load of money without having to lift a finger.’ I says to him, well that sounds like a good deal for you then. And he says ‘yeah it is, but not for the suckers.’”

“Suckers?” Rockford asked, eyebrow raised.

“I figured he meant tourists,” Tony replied with a shrug, “You know, gamblers and what-not. So anyway, he pays for his meat and leaves and I don’t think much of it, until I heard your little APB this morning..Got to thinking maybe it was connected.”

“Certainly sounds like it could be,” Rockford nodded thoughtfully as he jotted down a few notes, “Get a good look at him?”

“Yeah I did, scrawny little fuck with blue eyes. Maybe 25 years old, with a scar on his left hand.”

“Was there anyone with him?”

Tony shook his head, “Nah just his lonesome.”

“Alright well that’s something to go off,” Rockford said, giving the ghoulish butcher an appreciative nod, “Thanks Tony, I’ll check into it. Give my best to the Mrs. eh?”

“I’ll do that thank yeh,” Tony said with a grin, “And please, tell Mr. Dominic that business has been good lately. Gotten plenty of customers for that new party chem your Family is cookin’ up. Could use another shipment soon actually.”

“I’ll make sure one gets sent,” Rockford said, tipping his hat, “See ya around Tony.”

Rockford stepped back out of the Deli while reaching for another cigarette as he considered what to do with the information Tony had given him. It wasn’t much, and it was entirely possible it was completely unrelated, but he’d heard nothing else from any of his contacts so far. So it was truly his best lead, or rather, it was his only lead.

“Going somewhere Mister?” One of the female gangsters asked with a cock of her tattoo’d head, almost as soon as he stepped out the door, “You with The Family right?”

“Maybe, what's it to you?” Rockford replied. He reached for his lighter and lit up on his cigarette. He puffed steadily on it and narrowed his eyes at the unlikely quartet. All their eyes seemed to light up, and they eager looked to one another with excited expressions,

“Oh man I knew it,” One of the males said with a goofy grin.

“Hey’d we’d be…uh…honored to escort you around Freeside,” the female wanna-be continued, “And anything else we can do for you….just let us know.”

“I don’t need an escort,” Rockford replied, blowing smoke in their direction. Their expressions sunk for a brief moment as they no doubt thought perhaps they’d lost out on a chance to impress their criminal overlords, but then Rockford gave a grin, “But I might have some other uses for you. Interested in a little undercover work?”

The gangsters' smiles returned.

“Anything for the Omertas.”

Zoara Club VIP Lounge, Don Dominic - The Benny Situation

Dominic listened with a bored expression as Benny rattled off a long list of planned bureaucratic changes to the Mojave. He wanted to give Benny the immediate impression that nothing of what he said interested him, or that he simply had no interest in the politics of it all or the machinations of a national scale that far outclassed his own simple criminal ambitions.

The reality was nothing could be farther from the truth. He hung on Benny’s every word as the neurotic ambassador rambled off the so-called 'vision' for the future. Some parts of which were undoubtedly half-truths or even outright lies, but even under that consideration the plans Benny laid out infuriated him to no end. He’d expected Benny to lie, to give some indication of how the Strip and the Mojave wouldn’t *really* change, but the Ambassador had not seemed to bother with that. Or rather, the lie he told wasn’t even attempting to placate or assuage doubts about the continued autonomy of Vegas. If this was what Benny was attempting to spin to him, what was the NCR’s actual plan?

None of that will come to pass, Dominic wanted to growl out. He wanted to punch Benny’s face in and have his men haul him off to a fate worse than death. The Legion used to crucify their victims, leave them up on that cross of wood for days on end before they expired, that seemed a fitting punishment for the little weasel sitting before him. With a snap of his finger it could happen, Benny could disappear, and some excuse could be cooked up to the NCR brass about how their new Ambassador ran into an unfortunate bit of ‘trouble’ after he’d wandered into Freeside unadvisedly. Excuses would be made, apologies would be offered, palms would be greased, and retribution would be forgotten.

Yet, much to his chagrin, he couldn’t, not yet anyway: not now.

So instead he had to play along.

His ears perked up at the mention of CSF security taking over control of key NCR installations in lieu of Colonel Abernathy’s own men. It was a strange bit of information to add, and it immediately got him intrigued. Had Abernathy finally lost the support of the NCR brass back home? Or was something else afoot here?

“I hate to be trouble Mr. Dominic but do you have anything I could smoke?” Benny asked as he patted down his suit in search of a pack of cigarettes.

Dominic smiled and reached into his jacket pocket. He withdrew a long black slender object that looked not unlike the handle of a blade, then offered it up to Benny in one smooth motion which, had it been a knife, could have torn into the Ambassador’s chest. Instead, Dominic pressed a button on the case and a cigarette popped out like a switch. He offered it up to the Ambassador, then took one for himself.

He then stuffed the case back into his jacket and withdrew a gold-plated lighter and flipped it open. He lit Benny’s cigarette before igniting his own. Smoke wafted around them as the two sat in silence for a few brief moments while they both enjoyed the flavor of the pristine pre-war tobacco.

Finally, Dominic broke the silence, giving a slight shrug as he stared at Benny,

“Omerta,” He explained, “Means silence. You have my word, the Colonel won’t hear about it from me. Though I am curious why you’d trust me at all, I’m frankly flattered that you’d think little ol’ me important enough to hear details of what is obviously going to be a very sensitive operation before they even happen,” Dominic drew on his cigarette and exhaled the smoke calmly through the right side of his mouth, “But honestly, why should there would be any cause for concern at all? Colonel Abernathy is a loyal NCR man is he not? A patriot? Surely you aren’t suggesting he’d be capable of some sort of rebellion?”

The Long Afternoon of the Mojave (A Fallout Roleplay)

Gomorrah, Zoara Club - Dominic "Fat Dom" Omerta

“Pleasures all mine Mr. Dominic. I truly appreciate you opening up the Gomorrah to me so early in the day. It was a spectacular experience I was greeted with upon my arrival this morning. Likewise,” he took a drag and exhaled to the side away from the Don. “I want to thank you sincerely for the greeting my escort and I were given upon our arrival to the Strip last night. As I’m sure you are aware we were not so kindly received on our entrance to Freeside.”

Dominic nodded as Sally swiftly returned carrying a tray filled with two large slices of cake which she deposited in front of the Don and Benny. She also set down a cup of coffee in front of the NCR Ambassador.

“Oh yes I heard about that,” Dominic sighed as he excitedly dug into the cake with his fork, “ I assume your man was given some reason to turn that mercenary into all of swiss cheese, but if not, I’m sure he won’t be missed. Luckily those particular guards were not Omerta,” The Don said casually, stuffing a slice of the cake into his mouth and chewing thoughtfully, “Although, to be honest I’m not sure Freeside will be as forgiving about it...they tend to be a bit more…tribal…about these things. Well, in any case, I’m still glad we could right that little wrong and give you a proper welcome.”

“Especially your employee…the lady Lucrezia. She is quite the woman, you should be proud to have her in your staff. She represents your business and your interests well.”

“Why thank you, I’m happy to hear you say that. Hey, I’m told she has quite a high opinion of you as well…maybe a little toooo high… ” Dominic laughed heartily, then slapped the Ambassador lightly on the shoulder, “Ah I’m just bustin’ your balls. Actually I’m more proud than you can imagine my friend. Lucy is a firecracker, a fighter through and through. I’d like to say she gets it all from me, but the truth is her mother was quite the pistol….nearly shot me the day we met if you can believe it. HA! Needless to say, Lucy will make a fine leader for the Omertas when it’s time for her old man to retire and grow old and fat…or rather grow fatter and older. Eh?”

“I hope the cake is to your liking sir. The barista at the Ultra Luxe refused to let me pay for it when I informed him who it was for. I’m assuming you have a connection with that casino as well?”

“Oh you ain’t heard? Bah..I’m surprised, word gets around fast here but maybe not fast enough for the Embassy,,” Dominic replied with a sly wink, “The White Gloves and the Omertas are going to be one big-happy family soon. Marjorie, their leader, is soon to be my wife. Oh boy let me tell you…it’s going to be quite the event. That woman has done nothing but wedding plan since I gave her the ring. Don’t you worry, you’ll certainly get an invite.”

“In any case I hope we can be candid with each other and open up an easy line of dialogue. You’re the first family representative to invite me to a parlay upon my arrival. I’m sure you’re curious about annexation, taxation and what all the NCR has planned for New Vegas. I will answer these questions to the best of my knowledge and as far as my professional discretion allows. However,” Benny leaned in close. “I want to assure you that the president has no intention of dismantling the authority held by the families of the Strip. It is only with mutual respect between our organizations that we can make this annexation a painless process.”

Dominic suddenly sat down his fork and looked up at Benny, his steel-gray eyes boring into the Ambassador with an uncomfortable intensity, as if to subtly warn him about taking the veteran criminal leader for a fool. He did not appear angry, nor even disappointed, but instead just seemed oddly serene. Nobody in New Vegas, not even the Chairmen with all their blind trust in old Not-At-Home, would believe any part of the lie that the Ambassador had just told. The NCR never recognized any authority but its own.

There was probably some sort of wise cautionary tale to be remembered here: about how foolish it was be to try to beat the devil at his own game with a lie….and inside his own home.

All of a sudden though Dominic’s expression lightened and he gave him a smile that rapidly grew into a wide jovial grin, “Ahh, that’s good to hear. Very good to hear. I must admit that we’re all very concerned about what our NCR friends have in store for us. Tell me Benny, man to man, what does the NCR have in mind for New Vegas? What do you see for Sin City in our future?”