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    1. SkankingDevil 7 yrs ago

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@Dephyus @chukklehed

Don chuckled as the red and brown visceral smudge smeared over the mule's patchy grey hide. Years ago, such an act of wanton violence would have produced a grimace rather than a smile. But the road is long and grey, and little bits of animation like this become what you live for. Even in his insanity, there was an energy about Eddie that you didn't often see these days. A zest for life. An equal zeal for taking it.

The duo proceeded silently down the road towards the settlement. Makeshift walls surrounded what looks to have been a small commercial district, or maybe some sort of planned neighborhood. Where there were walls, there were likely to be treasures. But there were also likely to be guards. And in this case, non less than the renown Town Guard itself. If the water merchant's intel had been correct, they had been here on a semi permanent basis for almost five years.

The front gate was now fully in view. A guard was posted above the gate, maybe 3 meters above the ground, perched above the wall. The Guard must have been watching them for a solid seven minutes as they approached, but made no effort to contact them. That was the thing many of the Elders spoke of in Don's boyhood. How in the Old World, time was the master. Everyone was always in a rush, always trying to beat the clock. But in this world? The only times that mattered were mealtime, and the hour of your death. Don and Eddie would reach the gate in their own time, and in his own time the Guard would acknowledge their presence.

The duo slowed their mule to a stop a stone's throw away from the gate, and stood silently as they awaited the instructions from the Guard. The Guard took his time, watching down on the duo, his eyes beating down on the, like sunbeams in the desert . "Who goes there?"

Don looked up at the guard. "I am Jacob Reddings of Nevada. This is my bodyguard, Kay." Don hadn't been expecting having to talk his way into the compound. Many other villages in the area were completely vulnerable to outsiders. No gate, no walls, maybe one or two poorly armed lookouts. Don continued softly. "I am seeking sanctuary. My camp was raided by bandits, and my colleagues slaughtered. Kay managed to get me out safely, but we have been wandering for days. I've heard tell that the Town Guard is active in this area, protecting good folks in need. I beg of you, please, help us! I am a man of science, and I won't survive another week in the wastes..." Don stammered to a finish, visibly shaken.

The Guard's eyes narrowed as he scrutinized every wrinkle on Don's face, every action, anything at all that could betray him. But Don knew exactly what he was doing. The water merchant had told him all about the Town Guard's code of ethics. " Protect, Serve, Reinforce." They would have to accept Don and his traveling partner. They had sworn an oath. So he waited.

After another lengthy pause, the Guard disappeared from sight, his head slipping beneath the wall and into the encampment on the other side. A few seconds later, a mechanical whirling sound punctured the heavy silence of the Wastes. The door creaked open, and the Guard stood on the other side with spear in hand. "Welcome to New Hattion. Follow me, there's someone you need to meet."
@chukklehed
The boys are coming to town!
@Dephyus

Don eyed Eddie as he rooted through various bags on the mule. One would think Don would have become accustomed to the eccentric behavior of his partner, but time had not dulled the oddity of Eddie's antics. The balance between entertaining lunacy, and sobering violence was delicate at best. There were times when Don would pretend to be asleep near the fire, and swear he could feel the cold tinge of steel upon his throat in the night. In one way Eddie's mannerisms terrified Don. Watching what a man could do to another living thing with such little provocation and so much savagery. But in another way, Eddie's madness was comforting. If nothing else, it validated Don's own sanity in comparison. And if things ever took a bad turn... Eddie was the kind of guy you wanted on your side.

Eddie keeled down and picked up a handful of dry, brown dirt. Rubbing it briskly between his hands, he proceeded to wipe the earthy dust all over his pristine white oxford. Camouflage was key, and nothing had been as clean as that shirt in damn near twenty years. Thoroughly dirtied, Don turned back to the mule cart. It was amazing what kinds of loot and plunder the duo had acquired over the years. Most of it junk, some of it treasure. All earned with their blood, sweat, or experience.

"That gun's good... yeah. Damn shame that kid broke the firing pin." Don said in reference to the origins of said carbine. "You don't see many guns like that anymore. They see us roll up with that, they'll know we're the real deal. Make it seem more believable we escaped that 'bandit raid' too. My name is... Jacob Reddings. You and I... we've only known each other a week or so, and I paid you as a sell sword. If anyone asks, we've taken to the 'Code of the Road.'" He said, referring to the practice in which nomads meeting in the wastelands withhold all personal information, other than that of their names and hometowns. Don walked back to where he had discarded his clothes in the street and selected from the pile his heavy overcoat, which he slipped on- right arm after left. Scooping up the remaining clothing and hiding it behind a piece of foliage, Don now looked the part of a proper nomadic scientist.

"I figure it'll be a good ten minute walk until we hit the first buildings. Keep your eyes peeled, keep your cool, and don't break frame.'

Don said as he lazily gripped the mule's reigns and began to slowly lead the pack animal down the overgrown and crumbled asphalt road.

So I assume Don's been pulling these "jobs" for a while now, and had had to go to plan B a few times at least?


Yes indeed! Don has the skills and experience needed to come out on top most of the time, but it really all depends on how the people react to his presence.

Don has been working with Eddie Donahue (@Dephyus) about a decade now. Sometimes it goes poorly, but by and large, the payoffs have been consistently rewarding!

@Dephyus

A devious smile crept across Don's face as his traveling companion revealed two vials from the plastic bag. A miracle potion. There was more than one way to survive in this world wide Hellscape. Some robbed by knifepoint, others stole food and women in the night. Yet, there were a select few who could see above the daily struggle for existence. For those who knew the wishes and desires of their quarry, the hunt was always bountiful. To prey upon their fantasies, to create a new reality. To thrive at the sake of the stupid and naive.

"Riiight..." Don stood and moved towards the donkey, rummaging around in compartments of various cloth sacks in search of his wardrobe. "A miracle potion, I like the sound of that! Worked on those fools back West, can't see these folks being much different."

Having located the small suede bag containing his formal attire, Don proceeded to disrobe. The fact that he was out in the middle of the road, or in plain view of Eddie mattered very little. With the mutated coyotes stalking the surrounding woodlands, the carnivorous ants (which luckily were becoming less populous as the temperature continued to drop) or the hordes of roving bandits who would soon look at you as kill you, nudity just didn't seem like a big deal.

Discarding his torn and bloody travel clothing on the roadside, Don removed a vacuum sealed clear plastic bag, containing black slacks and spotless white dress shirt. Don began to change into his dress garb and continued:

"OK, I'm cookin' up somethin' we can work with here... Check it, here's the deal. We're both scientists. We found out we can use nuclear radiation to make a kind of cancer that actually heals cells, instead of hurt them. Our lab got raided by bandits, so we came to this town for protection to finish our research."

By this point, Don was fully dressed in the pair of black slacks and pressed white oxford. He rounded the mule and ran his hand around the rim of the 20 gallon water tank attached via wagon to the mule's harness. Using the residual moisture, Don wet his face and wiped the grime of the long journey from his sun kissed cheeks, letting the cool breeze dry the beads of water from his brow. With his pristine clothing, silken hair and golden skin, Don radiated an otherworldly picture of healthiness.

"We show 'em how the potion has been working so good on me, they give us a room with a lock and key when we promise them we will give them a vial when we finish. They give us food, they give us booze, because this miracle potion just became their new God. We get our tools, I fix this solar panel, and we're outta here before the fools wake. Or, you know, if things go good, we ride it out here in town. Stay for a couple weeks, get drunk, get laid."

Don tugged at his collar. This was a new shirt. Straight from the factory. Uncomfortable. Not sure why people wore this stuff in the Before Times. Repacking the mule, Don pulled from another bag his 9mm and tucked it firmly into his waistband. His machete, however, he left upon the mule, safely out of sight.

"Then again. Maybe things don't go so good. Maybe the Town Guard comes down on us. Maybe one of the townies doubts the story. Plan B, grab that fucker by the throat, drag him into the bushes, and carve yourself a trophy. I don't think it will come to that.... but it has before, so I don't doubt it could well happen again."

Don again turned towards the settlement. This oasis in the waste could be exactly what they needed. And as his father oft repeated in his boyhood: "Where there is risk... there's reward. What you think?"
@Dephyus

Don stared off towards the town. In the distance he saw smoke billowing from chimneys and windmills slowly rotating their dilapidated arms. Strange, unsightly crops were visible, as were the women working in the fields. Placed seemed like it was practically begging for a visit from the Wolves or the Hunters, or whatever group of bandits was killing each other these days. But it looked like the storm had passed this place over. Couldn't remember what the town's name was. New Something-or-other. The water merchant had said it was one of the first waves to be claimed under the protection of the Town Guard, leading to almost five year stretch of quasi-prosperity.

"Yeah, goin' in cool. If anyone asks, we're traveling merchants. We gotta go clandestine, on the DL, you know? They got what we need. First, we gotta snag some new tools or I can't fix our shit. I need a pair of pilers, the real skinny ones. And my 10mm wrench is rusted to hell, it's gonna give soon. I can almost get the solar panel going, but we're gonna need some copper wire and a new transformer, one of the small ones."

Don took the mule by the reigns and slowly turned towards the town, his eyes intense and calculating.

"That's the move. Grab a drink, a room, and a couple whores. What you think?"
@Dephyus

A man sat on the side of the road, squatting on his haunches surrounded by various cloth bags and a mule fully loaded with nondescript crates and boxes. Whipping back his majestic chestnut hair, Don lifted his chin towards the blaring oranges skies and took a deep breath. After days of wandering in no man's land, he had finally found civilization. Well, what passes for civilization these days. A bunch of scared people, hiding themselves away in makeshift bungalows, pretending that they're safe. That everything's gonna be OK. A smile crept across Don's face. How wrong they were.

There was no malice in Don's heart. No malice, but the fact still stood: it pumped blood, just like any other man's. And to keep his heart pumping, he was going to need fuel: food, slaves, companions, whatever to get him to the next day. Letting the smile fade, Don stood up, taking the mule by the reigns and turning to his business partner.

"Alright Donahue. Looks like the info that water merchant gave us was good after all. Motherfucker could have given us a better bottle though, I swear we lost half a gallon when the seal burst last night."

Turning to face the town, Don continued:
"Not much to look at, but they've been here a while. They'll have what we need. What're you thinking? Go in with smiles? Smash and grab? Personally, I could go with a drink and a woman. Not sure if I'll have better luck at the bar or the pig trough in a town like this, know what I'm saying?"
Don cracked with a wink as he cheekily dug his elbow into Eddie's ribs.
Name: Don Matthews
Age: Late 20's
Gender: Male

Nomadic or Sedentary: Nomadic

Weapons: Carries a roughly sharpened machete on his back, and a well worn 9mm pistol on his hip.

Skills: Business minded individual, skilled in the soft arts of persuasion, mechanics, close quarter combat, and of course general wasteland survival.

Any unusual traits? Does it show physically?: What's really unusual about Don, is how healthy he seems! Well fed, strong, brimming with energy- not something you see a lot of these days.

Appearance: Don Matthews is a man of medium build, and average height. In a crowd, he blends. There is an energy about him though. His bright brown eyes and white teeth seem so out of place, as if the War passed him over when death came to town. His shoulder length hair shines healthily, soft to the touch. Don's wardrobe is about function, and he can usually be found wearing a pair of tough denim pants, sturdy hiking boots, white long sleeve cotton under layer, with a leather vest and heavy overcoat to boot.


Brief Personality: Don plays well with others. Until he doesn't. He'll twist your words, break your arm, then take your last tobacco cigarette. Don tells himself he takes no pleasure in what he does. Tells himself he does what it takes to survive. But that sense of pride? Knowing that he is capable of doing what others wouldn't? What others couldn't? It's that sense of accomplishment that sends him off to sleep with a smile. Despite his imperfect nature, Don is a cheerful fellow who doesn't take life too seriously. "This life is short, brutal, and cold. Why waste energy worrying about it?"

Background: Don Matthews was around nine years old when the War broke out. For the better part of his life, he had been traveling from place to place with his family and other nomads. At 19, Don was exiled from his tribe, for reasons to this day he has remained silent about. Armed with a rudimentary knowledge of machines from his mechanics apprenticeship, Don Matthews headed out into the world, desperate and alone. Don survived with his wit, lying, cheating, doing whatever he could to get the upper hand. Along the way, Don met Eddie Donahue, who coincidentally was running scam of his own at the time. After repeated mishaps and run ins with each other, the two agreed to work together for mutual benefit, resulting in a decade long partnership. They travel the country, sometimes stealing, seldom helping, and always leaving their mark.
Current location: Sizing up the town
Alone or with someone?: Eddie Donahue
Other:
@SkankingDevil Welcome to the Guild!


Thank you very much, I feel welcome!
Both accepted! Great job guys!@Dephyus@SkankingDevil


Thanks much, looks like a fun RP!
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