[@Ulstermann]

[color=#ff5050][i]"Ah, vous avez entendu?" {Ah, you heard?}[/i][/color] The captain took a long drag on a high-grade cigar of his own, his eyes scanning Tom. [color=#ff5050]"The revolution - now that's a group we share a long, dark history with - and I'm sure you'd like to hear it."[/color]

The captain snapped his fingers, and the robotic butler ceased his music instantly - the only sound being the flickering of the fireplace behind him, illuminating the entire room in it's hazy orange glow. [color=#ff5050]"[i]Mon nom est[/i] Noel Cade - captain of the trading outpost of Orleans. This wasn't always the case, [i]toutefois[/i] - I was once Knight Cade, and I doing the road circuit along districts with my squad; ensuring that people made their way through districts safely, protecting caravans - that sort of thing."[/color]  The Order Knight's eyes seemed far away as he said his piece, his saffron eyes far away as he seemed to take the officer on his story long ago - the thin smoke of the fire billowing up.

[color=#ff5050]"It was late in the night when they attacked us [i]sans provocation[/i] - they took us by surprise. The first one to go down was our leader, Paladin Fallow - a generation three synth, she was sniped in the head first. His life was extinguished in a second. She was the one that sponsored me into The Order."[/color] Captain Cade said, not sad, but wistful. [color=#ff5050]"The next troop opened fire on us with a minigun - shredded through most of my squad right there. I watched them drop to the ground, riddled with [i]impacte de balles[/i]. I managed to escape by ducking behind cover - but I wasn't alone. I got into hand-to-hand combat against one of them with a shishkebab. I hacked off his arm with my rapier, but received severe wounds, so I began to run, unsure of where I was."[/color]

[color=#ff5050]"I almost escaped - but not without a cost. The great "voice of the people" herself graced me with my presence."[/color] The captain said, bitter. [color=#ff5050]"Napoleon V. The great leader of the French Revolution. She shot me in the leg, and watched as I crawled off, bleeding, dying - and she [i]laughed.[/i]"[/color]

Captain Cade took a deep breath. [color=#ff5050]"[i]Après,[/i] I was found by a nearby squadron, luckily. Napoleon V didn't follow. I suppose [i]elle a assumé[/i] I would simply bleed out in the middle of nowhere and die alone, knowing all of my companions were gone. I was lucky to have been found, otherwise, you'd most likely be speaking to a completely different man at the moment."[/color] The captain sat back in his chair, as the crackling of the fire grew louder. [color=#ff5050]"[i]Je suppose[/i] you'll hear the French Revolution's lies soon enough; about how they fight for equality, how they want a democracy. I want them to tell that to the children of my squad mates - look them in the eyes and say they fight for the people."[/color]

[color=#ff5050]"I sat in a wheelchair for three years. The people around me - [i]on m'a appelé a hero,[/i] that I was brave. I didn't feel like one."[/color] Captain Cade would reach down, raising his right pant leg, revealing a mass of metal and wire. [color=#ff5050]"I only recently received the implant. The newly appointed science head for The Order - [i]bénisse[/i] - fitted me with this, and allowed me to resume my time as a newly appointed captain."[/color] 

[@Lord Coake]

[color=#cc6600]"Uh, wait, what?"[/color] The 'Order Knight' said, looking more than surprised that the caps had actually been forked over. [color=#cc6600]"Well.. I'll be damned."[/color]

The Order Knight would pick through the bottle caps, ensuring that each one was legit, before waving the pouch in front of his companions with a broad, dirty grin. The laser dot focused on Longshot's head would dissipate, and the 'Order Knights' would step aside, leaving the path to the bridge wide open. As the bridge was passed, a noticeable, disgusting smell would arise, a smell similar to that of three weak old meat left out in the sun for too long - and upon closer inspection, a large cluster of stripped bodies, bloodied and decapitated, were piled on the river's shore, hidden under the bridge, each with a broken laser rifle in hand. In the background, the raiders would heartily laugh, surprised that someone stupid enough to "believe" their disguise had survived in the East End of Orleans.

[color=#cc6600]"Retard."[/color]

As the mercenary came up the bridge, the large, marble walls of the district began to grow larger over the horizon - but unlike the usual district, the massive banners draped against it's walls had been tattered and torn, the marble brick walls were severely dirtied and even streaked with blood in some places, and several columns of smoke were arising from the center of town - just another average day for the Proulx District. Upon the district coming into full view, revealing several crowds of poor, dirtied people sleeping and eating around it - too poor to even beg in the streets - the main wooden gate would appear, wide open - and a [i]massive[/i] crowd of people could be seen, their old ragged clothes filling the township, almost completely absent of Order Knights.

It would be hard to push past the massive crowd; but upon looking farther through the crowd, down the long, straight cobble road, Longshot would notice a lone figure standing on a pile of milk crates and shipping crates, rallying the people as the figure paced the mountain of junk, far above the rest of the riot - the figure flanked by several riot-gear armored troops wielding an old, duct-taped rifle and the other a shishkebab, the heavy gasoline tanks trapped to the back of the soldier; he was missing his left arm. Order Knights edged the crowd, yelling indiscriminately, but they couldn't be heard above the roar of the people and the figure. If the figure was inspected closely, it would reveal a young - woman, twenty five, possibly, with hazel skin, her blues eyes filled with fiery passion and her ponytail whipping around as she rallied people.

[color=#b3d8ff]"What are you doing?!"[/color] A nearby protester asked, bumping into the mercenary among the wild crowd. [color=#b3d8ff]"Why're you just - standing around? You know who that is up there?! That's Napoleon V! She heads the French Revolution herself!"[/color]

[@Tuxedo Fox]

[color=#996633]"Now, ah, you! You there - the dirty lookin' man, with that duster - say, you're one adventurous lookin' fellah!"[/color] A rough, gristly voice would call out. [color=#996633]"You look like a man in need of companionship!"[/color]

In a small, nearby wooden outpost, a short, stout man would wave over Boss. The man was odd-looking - he appeared to be missing several teeth, his face was portly and scrunched up, and his left arm was missing - replaced by a rusted mechanical one, several wires sticking out in odd places. His little wooden outpost was filled with scores of wires, circuitry, motherboards, and duct-tape. Surrounding the man were multiple old, rusted robots; some out of commission, others alive and buzzing with electricity. Next to the man was a particularly perky looking Eyebot, humming some old blues tunes from the local radio. Above the outpost, rusted and spray-painted over several times, was the sign "Jimbo's Robros" in an old, ugly spray-painted red. A symbol of a broken chain was painted on his wall.

"[color=#996633]Now, now, I'm sure you may be thinking - who the hell is this guy? Why is he waving at me? Did he just call me lonely?!"[/color] The man said, walking up to Boss. "[color=#996633]Well, shut up! I'm Jimbo, of Jimbo's Robros - the leading robot outpost of the T-O-O, and the cheapest, too![/color]"

The man would wave to his outpost, the mass of cobbled-together robots there - ranging from Mister Handy units missing legs and coated in rust, to even a Sentry Bot with it's rocket launcher replaced by a fatman. "[color=#996633]Now, these robots aren't quite what you'd get from your average robotics store, with their fancy chrome Mister Handies and fully armed sentry bots - but my bots have personalities! Feelings! Opinions![/color]" The man wrapped his arm around Boss, trying to lead him to his store. [color=#996633]"Now, take for instance this plucky little fella' - I lit him on fire, hit him with a shovel, and threw him in the Bog 'cause he wouldn't sell - but he came back a week later and shot my arm!"[/color] The man laughed, waving to an Eyebot that chirped playfully. 

[color=#996633]"And that big ol' clunker - Little Boy - I found him in a scrapyard out by the districts. I fixed him up with this badass fatman I picked up, and brought him here! Real dangerous. Don't let him near kids."[/color] The man chuckled. [color=#996633]"But seriously, don't let him near kids. Tried that once. Now, sir, what'll it be? Fatty's ten thousand caps - and that's a real deal. That badass could bring down a district by himself. Asshead - that's the flying radio - he's uh, hundred caps. Sure. Probably worth less. Don't let him shoot your arm off. Little asshole. The others aren't for sale - still trying to get them to working order."[/color]

[@Karos]

[color=#ff754d]"He-heh heh.."[/color] The captain laughed heartily, as the officers around him cocked their guns. [color=#ff754d]"[i]Eh bien, gamin[/i] - you certainly know how to make an entrance, I suppose. Try that again and you'll get your goddamn head blown off, though."[/color]

The captain sighed a sigh of relief, propping his boots up on the table. The officers around him, however, still had each of their weapons focused on the man - a super mutant with a combat rifle, a synth with a .44, a woman with a 10mm, and a wide range of other types of species with weapons. The captain grinned, his rotting flesh spreading apart to reveal ivory white teeth - evidently a man who made sure to take care of himself, despite large chunks of his own skin rotting off due to radiation. His cataract eyes focused on the stealth suited man, and despite not seeing Sebastian's face, he seemed to be staring directly into his eyes - his dull eyes somehow being piercing at the same time.

[color=#ff754d]"Captain Fillimore - that's me. The head of all troops in the Savreaux District.[/color] The ghoul said, his raspy voice full of confidence. [color=#ff754d]"If you're looking for a job, then you've certainly come to the right place. I send idiots out to die all the time - but judging from that suit of yours, you don't seem the type to be too much of an idiot."[/color] 

The soldiers surrounding the captain gradually grew to be more at ease, lowering their weapons - several, however, kept them focused directly at the head of the stealth suited figure. The captain lit a cigarette and blew several smoke rings, displaying his prominent lack of stress, despite the fact the stealth suited guy could possibly be a distraction and a sniper rifle could be pointed at his head right now, or the figure could be a French Revolutionist, or the figure could just be there to try to kill him for the hell of it. But the ghoul demonstrated a remarkable calm, as he continued to draw several figures on the paper map in the center in pen, marking out several key points.

[color=#ff754d]"If you're looking for a job - I got one. A riot's been breaking out in the Proulx District over the last couple of days. I marked it on the map. Most Southeastern district. Head there, and kill the girl standing on the milk crates - got that? We can organize a team of soldiers to escort you there, but by judging from the looks of it, you can handle yourself."[/color]