So, I'm in the process of collabing the escape from Mancini's place with Kingslee. Would there be any other incriminating evidence anywhere in the room? A desk they could find something in, if they searched Mancini's body?
@Leidenschaft Sorry mate, I've been crazy busy lately. I'll do my best to write up a reply in the next day or so but if I take too long and you're comfortable with it feel free to CC Joel temporarily. I don't want to hold you or the RP up, but I definitely don't want to drop out either. :D
So, I'm in the process of collabing the escape from Mancini's place with Kingslee. Would there be any other incriminating evidence anywhere in the room? A desk they could find something in, if they searched Mancini's body?
There wouldn't be anything particularly obvious, but Mancini has been using Ultra-Jet which is something that can only be acquired from the Ghoul mob, who the Lazzari are supposed to be at odds with.
There wouldn't be anything particularly obvious, but Mancini has been using Ultra-Jet which is something that can only be acquired from the Ghoul mob, who the Lazzari are supposed to be at odds with.
Well, Redding does have a lot of experience selling and running drugs, he'd probably notice something was off about the jet inhalers. Being an independent pimp and dealer between the giants of Reno would also give him the knowledge of who sells what.
Well, Redding does have a lot of experience selling and running drugs, he'd probably notice something was off about the jet inhalers. Being an independent pimp and dealer between the giants of Reno would also give him the knowledge of who sells what.
That's why I thought it would be worth mentioning. That's the sort of clue Redding could pick up on
Appearance: Her hair is a black frayed mess of wild mane and her skin is extremely pale for a wastelander. She has wide, twitchy grey eyes. She wears what looks what used to be some kind of cream dress with flowery designs, but now the skirt is ratty and torn and the color is now brown from the various kinds of filth she's encountered. She has ropes wrapped around the skirt near her waist to her knees, keeping the skirt tight round her legs. There's a leather jacket over the top part, which is black with brown spots.
Race: Human
Strengths: She's a quick thinker and often thinks ahead of problems. She's very good at solving problems in an unpredictable manner, confounding her enemies. She has skill with creating chems and small mechanical devices. She, in a manner disturbingly similar to serial killers, has a knack for getting into buildings and tricking people into thinking she's someone else.
Weaknesses: She's insane. Due to her lineage being entirely people with mental or physical disorders, she is a arguably high functioning psychopath and schizophrenic, along with some obsessive tendecies.
She has no sense of social propriety and often says or does the wrong thing. She's also prone to violence and a chem user of her own supply.
Personality: A frantic and quick witted woman known for her fast mood swings. She will pursue her desires despite all reason. She can be very helpful when the mood strikes, then later do something just to spite you. She runs off pure feeling and emotion and often disregards straightforward solutions to problems. This is at odds with her general knowledge of science and chemistry. She would seem to be the kind of person that would have no place in civilized society, but fits in perfectly to a post apocalyptic bandit camp or something. Though most bandits would consider her behavior too extreme. She's known to be very exciteable.
Skills/Attributes: Chem making. She's crazy with a knife and is pretty good at improving melee weaponry. Sneaky. Able to create small snappy devices like chemical injectors or radio jammers. Can break her own bones and remove herself from a straightjacket or constraint. Has a very twitchy trigger finger, meaning she can shoot fast but she doesn't have any idea of how to deal with recoil.
Back-story: She was a part of Vault 232, where the experiment involved filling a vault almost exclusively with mental asylum patients and criminals with psychopathic or sociopathic tendencies. The only retraining factor was a often hidden group of Overseers and guards who would only act to prevent the inhabitants from murdering eachother. Zelzibel was in a particularly awful lineage that consisted of schizophrenics, psychopaths, two serial rapists, and at least one elected U.S official. The Overseers and Guards were of a lineage of autistic savants. By her generation, they were nearly machine like in their logical faculties.
Her mother, when Zelzibel was about eight, was disected by her father who was convinced he could achieve immortality by devouring her heart. He told Zel if she ever told the Overseers he'd stick her like a stuffed pig. Then he taught Zel how to stick men like stuffeds pigs and as a reward he beat her. She was locked into a closet for looking at him funny one day. She eventually got tired of being locked in the closet and when she was freed she slit his throat with his own shaving razor.
The Overseers did not believe the shaving razor story, but considering the other vile attrocities that were often committed and her fathers rampant abuse, only stuck her into one of the padded rooms for three months until she agreed to not kill anyone ever again. This did not work out.
As the years went by she became obsessed with chemistry books and later learned how to make chems from another vault dweller who had a family history leading all the way back to a convicted drug lord. This lead to working with injectors. Unfortunately, one of her favorite chems was basically her version of psycho and one fateful and bloody night she was brought out to the surface like a dog to be shot.
This, of course, was where it went bad.
It's a cold summer night. It's always a cold summer night post-nuclear war California. You get used to it. Zelzibel has never gotten used to it. Zelzibel is in a skintight blue suit that says "232" in bright neon lettering. Her arms are constrained by blue and yellow guilded arm restraints. She is followed by three men. One man has a shotgun. Another man has a small black device with a wobbly black antenna at the top. There's a big, red, flashing button. If he presses this button, her head will explode.
Zelzibel doesn't want this to happen. Which is why she is compliant. She's always compliant when her head is about to explode. Even when it's not and she is being constantly reassured it isn't. But she knows her head is going to explode and she knew who was going to do it. Not the man behind her with the bomb collar detonation device, that's just a guy with a bomb collar. No, her head was going to be exploded by a psychic radeon alien named Big Joe.
Big Joe was a serial rapist, conman, and friendly neighborhood maintenance inspector. These were all split personalities. Zel liked one of three of these. It was the conman. But he wasn't the problem. Is was the friendly, sweater wearing, smiling, clean coifed friendly neighborhood maintenance inspector. She knew he didn't actually wear a sweater, everyone wore the same vault suits with the straps just in case the Overseers and guards needed to stop an orgy riot. But he looked like he would wear a sweater.
This aspect of Big Joe, she deeply suspected, was psychically trying to explode her mind. She would wake up in a cold sweat. Sometimes, she would wake up beating some mans head against a urinal stall. She'd stop, horrified, then stab him in the kidneys so there were no witnesses. She knew this wasn't her fault. It was Big Joes, she could hear him at the back of her mind at all times.
So she knew when she enacted her plan to poison sector 37 of the vaults water purification system with pure radiation, that she would likely get caught. She knew the Overseers felt bad executing vault citizens with bomb collars. It was a waste of bomb collars and they didn't send anyone out of the vault to get supplies. This is because they were all insane and you don't get insane people to find more bomb collars. They come back with mini nukes or having formed a small Ochlocracy (a mob based government). Then, they demanded to all have pet rabbits, but you can't have pet rabbits, what are these people, crazy? Then you have a sudden realization, they are. Point is, it's pointless alright? You can't have the unreasonable reasonably acquire reasonably acquirable devices without having good reason and unless a reason is found, it's unreasonable to reasonably ask any Vault Overseer. So there.
So she knew one of the guards would remove the collar, probably strap it to his hip or his own neck maybe. The second part was the ideal situation. The first is what actually occured, the belt dangling off the portly mans belt. Zel had prepared for this by constructing a specially made harmonica that could, when blown, emit various radio frequencies. She had practiced by attaching the harmonica to a terminal and seeing the frequency range she was blowing on. When she was satisfied, she'd swallowed the harmonica seconds before she dumped a cylindrical tube of radioactive isotope into the drinking supply that connected specifically to Big Joes section of the vault.
This killed more than just Big Joe. It didn't even work on Big Joe completely, the only part of his personality that wasn't ghoulified was the serial rapist and he's still alive. Zel considers this a win.
A guard raises his shotgun. Zel has already, wretching and hacking, produced a small harmonica in a pile of vomit. She slips it into her mouth with her tongue, the tip coiling around it like a snake. It tastes like dirt. She sucks some of the dirt out of the whistle, then blows. At first nothing happens. Then the bomb collar detonates from the fat mans hips, sending shrieking pieces of jagged metal into the air, nearly giving Zelzibel an anal lobotomy. Her heads half on the floor, her ass is in the air. She got it half right. She flips around, her arms are still restrained but she's used to it by now. The fat mans torso has been shredded and she sees the spaghetti string of his flesh noodling out. Perfect. Less than perfect, one of the guards is still moving. The other isn't moving, but struggling to get off his feet. He looks wounded bad.
Zel has two options. She knows she can either sprint away, hoping that in this long trek of desert she might lose the man before he realizes that shotguns still operational. Or she can go over there and convince him, with reason, to let her go. She decides on the second option.
She straightens all the way to her feet and begins sprinting towards the man. She doesn't scream, so the man is somewhat surprised when he sees a long black haired woman with wild eyes sprinting at him. He now realizes what's going on. He gets ready for a headbutt, throwing his hands to the top of his head so that he can block a blunt blow. Then he feels a pressure on his arm, then a sharp pain. The bitch is biting him! He grabs at the crazy cunts hair, but as he does this she's tearing her head away, letting the hair follicles rip right off. He stares aghast at his hand full of hair for just a second, quickly deciding to punch her. She goes to the fall and drops onto her back, then kicks him right in the dick. This hurts, and he crumples down. Zel kicks him again on the fall, this time in the face, and quickly rises to her feet. She then kicks his head, knocking him over. Then, she starts stands over him and starts stomping. She doesn't stop until her legs are tired and bloody.
The other man, nearly unconscious now from pain, rolls his head dully. Zel is trying to pop her own arm bones to free herself from the vault straight jacket. He groans. His eyes close. When they open again, there's a shotgun barrel in his face. He hears a click.
BOOM.
Clothing: One cream colored dress, now brown and ratty, with little flowery details held against her waist and legs with a series of old belts and hide. Some flat shoes. Weapons: One shiv and 10mm submachine gun, 4 pipebombs (that, when triggered, release molten hot thermite) Ammo: 40 10mm rounds Chems: Four Psycho inhalers and some sort of needle that's an injected form of psycho
Appearance: Her hair is a black frayed mess of wild mane and her skin is extremely pale for a wastelander. She has wide, twitchy grey eyes. She wears what looks what used to be some kind of cream dress with flowery designs, but now the skirt is ratty and torn and the color is now brown from the various kinds of filth she's encountered. She has ropes wrapped around the skirt near her waist to her knees, keeping the skirt tight round her legs. There's a leather jacket over the top part, which is black with brown spots.
Race: Human
Strengths: She's a quick thinker and often thinks ahead of problems. She's very good at solving problems in an unpredictable manner, confounding her enemies. She has skill with creating chems and small mechanical devices. She, in a manner disturbingly similar to serial killers, has a knack for getting into buildings and tricking people into thinking she's someone else.
Weaknesses: She's insane. Due to her lineage being entirely people with mental or physical disorders, she is a arguably high functioning psychopath and schizophrenic, along with some obsessive tendecies.
She has no sense of social propriety and often says or does the wrong thing. She's also prone to violence and a chem user of her own supply.
Personality: A frantic and quick witted woman known for her fast mood swings. She will pursue her desires despite all reason. She can be very helpful when the mood strikes, then later do something just to spite you. She runs off pure feeling and emotion and often disregards straightforward solutions to problems. This is at odds with her general knowledge of science and chemistry. She would seem to be the kind of person that would have no place in civilized society, but fits in perfectly to a post apocalyptic bandit camp or something. Though most bandits would consider her behavior too extreme. She's known to be very exciteable.
Skills/Attributes: Chem making. She's crazy with a knife and is pretty good at improving melee weaponry. Sneaky. Able to create small snappy devices like chemical injectors or radio jammers. Can break her own bones and remove herself from a straightjacket or constraint. Has a very twitchy trigger finger, meaning she can shoot fast but she doesn't have any idea of how to deal with recoil.
Back-story: She was a part of Vault 232, where the experiment involved filling a vault almost exclusively with mental asylum patients and criminals with psychopathic or sociopathic tendencies. The only retraining factor was a often hidden group of Overseers and guards who would only act to prevent the inhabitants from murdering eachother. Zelzibel was in a particularly awful lineage that consisted of schizophrenics, psychopaths, two serial rapists, and at least one elected U.S official. The Overseers and Guards were of a lineage of autistic savants. By her generation, they were nearly machine like in their logical faculties.
Her mother, when Zelzibel was about eight, was disected by her father who was convinced he could achieve immortality by devouring her heart. He told Zel if she ever told the Overseers he'd stick her like a stuffed pig. Then he taught Zel how to stick men like stuffeds pigs and as a reward he beat her. She was locked into a closet for looking at him funny one day. She eventually got tired of being locked in the closet and when she was freed she slit his throat with his own shaving razor.
The Overseers did not believe the shaving razor story, but considering the other vile attrocities that were often committed and her fathers rampant abuse, only stuck her into one of the padded rooms for three months until she agreed to not kill anyone ever again. This did not work out.
As the years went by she became obsessed with chemistry books and later learned how to make chems from another vault dweller who had a family history leading all the way back to a convicted drug lord. This lead to working with injectors. Unfortunately, one of her favorite chems was basically her version of psycho and one fateful and bloody night she was brought out to the surface like a dog to be shot.
This, of course, was where it went bad.
It's a cold summer night. It's always a cold summer night post-nuclear war California. You get used to it. Zelzibel has never gotten used to it. Zelzibel is in a skintight blue suit that says "230" in bright neon lettering. Her arms are constrained by blue and yellow guilded arm restraints. She is followed by three men. One man has a shotgun. Another man has a small black device with a wobbly black antenna at the top. There's a big, red, flashing button. If he presses this button, her head will explode.
Zelzibel doesn't want this to happen. Which is why she is compliant. She's always compliant when her head is about to explode. Even when it's not and she is being constantly reassured it isn't. But she knows her head is going to explode and she knew who was going to do it. Not the man behind her with the bomb collar detonation device, that's just a guy with a bomb collar. No, her head was going to be exploded by a psychic radeon alien named Big Joe.
Big Joe was a serial rapist, conman, and friendly neighborhood maintenance inspector. These were all split personalities. Zel liked one of three of these. It was the conman. But he wasn't the problem. Is was the friendly, sweater wearing, smiling, clean coifed friendly neighborhood maintenance inspector. She knew he didn't actually wear a sweater, everyone wore the same vault suits with the straps just in case the Overseers and guards needed to stop an orgy riot. But he looked like he would wear a sweater.
This aspect of Big Joe, she deeply suspected, was psychically trying to explode her mind. She would wake up in a cold sweat. Sometimes, she would wake up beating some mans head against a urinal stall. She'd stop, horrified, then stab him in the kidneys so there were no witnesses. She knew this wasn't her fault. It was Big Joes, she could hear him at the back of her mind at all times.
So she knew when she enacted her plan to poison sector 37 of the vaults water purification system with pure radiation, that she would likely get caught. She knew the Overseers felt bad executing vault citizens with bomb collars. It was a waste of bomb collars and they didn't send anyone out of the vault to get supplies. This is because they were all insane and you don't get insane people to find more bomb collars. They come back with mini nukes or having formed a small Ochlocracy (a mob based government). Then, they demanded to all have pet rabbits, but you can't have pet rabbits, what are these people, crazy? Then you have a sudden realization, they are. Point is, it's pointless alright? You can't have the unreasonable reasonably acquire reasonably acquirable devices without having good reason and unless a reason is found, it's unreasonable to reasonably ask any Vault Overseer. So there.
So she knew one of the guards would remove the collar, probably strap it to his hip or his own neck maybe. The second part was the ideal situation. The first is what actually occured, the belt dangling off the portly mans belt. Zel had prepared for this by constructing a specially made harmonica that could, when blown, emit various radio frequencies. She had practiced by attaching the harmonica to a terminal and seeing the frequency range she was blowing on. When she was satisfied, she'd swallowed the harmonica seconds before she dumped a cylindrical tube of radioactive isotope into the drinking supply that connected specifically to Big Joes section of the vault.
This killed more than just Big Joe. It didn't even work on Big Joe completely, the only part of his personality that wasn't ghoulified was the serial rapist and he's still alive. Zel considers this a win.
A guard raises his shotgun. Zel has already, wretching and hacking, produced a small harmonica in a pile of vomit. She slips it into her mouth with her tongue, the tip coiling around it like a snake. It tastes like dirt. She sucks some of the dirt out of the whistle, then blows. At first nothing happens. Then the bomb collar detonates from the fat mans hips, sending shrieking pieces of jagged metal into the air, nearly giving Zelzibel an anal lobotomy. Her heads half on the floor, her ass is in the air. She got it half right. She flips around, her arms are still restrained but she's used to it by now. The fat mans torso has been shredded and she sees the spaghetti string of his flesh noodling out. Perfect. Less than perfect, one of the guards is still moving. The other isn't moving, but struggling to get off his feet. He looks wounded bad.
Zel has two options. She knows she can either sprint away, hoping that in this long trek of desert she might lose the man before he realizes that shotguns still operational. Or she can go over there and convince him, with reason, to let her go. She decides on the second option.
She straightens all the way to her feet and begins sprinting towards the man. She doesn't scream, so the man is somewhat surprised when he sees a long black haired woman with wild eyes sprinting at him. He now realizes what's going on. He gets ready for a headbutt, throwing his hands to the top of his head so that he can block a blunt blow. Then he feels a pressure on his arm, then a sharp pain. The bitch is biting him! He grabs at the crazy cunts hair, but as he does this she's tearing her head away, letting the hair follicles rip right off. He stares aghast at his hand full of hair for just a second, quickly deciding to punch her. She goes to the fall and drops onto her back, then kicks him right in the dick. This hurts, and he crumples down. Zel kicks him again on the fall, this time in the face, and quickly rises to her feet. She then kicks his head, knocking him over. Then, she starts stands over him and starts stomping. She doesn't stop until her legs are tired and bloody.
The other man, nearly unconscious now from pain, rolls his head dully. Zel is trying to pop her own arm bones to free herself from the vault straight jacket. He groans. His eyes close. When they open again, there's a shotgun barrel in his face. He hears a click.
BOOM.
Should follow the herd and add a belongings section.
