Andronicus23

War Never Changes

Titus Crassus - Quaestor of The Legion

"Do you think there will come a time when slavery will be outlawed? I understand it is a important foundation within your society but as ages pass society changes, and even those who were slaves eventually become free. Is that something the Legion will one day consider?" North asked poking Titus for how the Legion would feel about a hot button topic.

"Hm. That I cannot say for certain," Titus said with a shake of his head, "For to do so would imply that I know better than Caesar on such things, which I do not. I do not believe however, that Caesar himself would so such a thing. Slaves are part of the nature order of things after all. The strong enslave the weak, the conquerors enslave the conquered etc. Such is the way of the world. And why should that change? Now on the other hand, Caesar's wife....she is a new Canaanite and personally detests slavery. However, I should not speak of her, it would be impudent of me."

"As for your war." North said as he folded his hands. "I wish for a quick decisive outcome, I do not take pleasure in the deaths of others. However a quick victory is by far the most merciful path one can take, but I will take no stance in it. Alaska is not in a position to send aid logistically, nor do I think our Federation will approve of sending our own to such far flung war zones. That and I'm already sweltering in this heat."

"One thing is for sure, Mr. Ashland, no matter what the outcome is. This war with not be quick, but it will be decisive. The NCR may not have wished it, and perhaps they did not foresee it, but they have started a war that will end all future conflicts between our two nations. Either the NCR will burn to ashes, or The Legion will. Thousands, perhaps millions, will die. And the devastation will be uncountable. But, in the end, we will finally have an ending to things."

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

Dr. Arthur West - Salem Church

After Ace had left, Arthur cleaned his clinic up as best he could and stored away the medical tools he'd used to treat the two patients. He'd only been in the town a few hours and he'd already been busy. He had a feeling this town was going to require a lot more of his services in the future. Perhaps he'd stay a bit longer than a few days.

With seemingly no further patients waiting to be treated, Arthur gave a sigh and walked back down to the first floor of the church. He decided to talk a quick walk to explore the town, seeing as how he'd not yet gotten a chance to do so, and took his pistol with him, just in case.

He stepped out the front door of the church and turned seaside to look towards the ocean. He froze in terror when he saw what was lumbering up and heading towards the diner directly opposite the church. A mutant.

The surprise of seeing one of his experiments coming right at him was horrifying. He hadn't been this close to one since...well, since he'd was working to create them. Even in his abject horror, his analytical mind still raced with with the science of it all. The enhanced muscular structure of the creature, its increased height, strength and, no doubt, brutality and aggression. They were all things he'd measured and toyed with in his lab as he worked to research the Forced Evolutionary Virus and its potential.

As the creature drew closer however, his thoughts turned to darker matters. Ones that were far more human. Did he recognize the creature? Could he remember who it had once been before he'd turned it? Would the creature recognize him?

The mutant was almost upon him now, and Arthur stood rooted to his spot. If the mutant attacked, he knew he wouldn't be able to defend himself. The irony of being killed by the very creatures he'd loosed upon The Commonwealth was not lost on him, and were he in a different state of mind, he might even find the dark humor in it. But at the moment, all he could think about was being torn apart, limb from limb, by the monstrosity of his own making.

In From The Fog: A Fallout Far Harbor Roleplay

Old Longfellow - On The Docks

“hey what’s going on in there? is this do with what you found on the dock?"

Longfellow stopped and turned with an angry drunken glare. The last people he wanted to talk to right now were more mainlanders,

"Aye you could say that," He replied sternly, "We found a man drowned in the wat....ah hell, who gives a shit. Someone gutted that newcomer like a trout. One of the two you and Corrine found up at Acadia. Slit his throat and tossed him in the sea. The other one, the woman, is going on about people not being real-people or some mainland nonsense. Institute this, Synth that. Whatever. I'm going to go lie down..."

With that Longfellow walked off, mumbling profanities under his breath.

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

Dr. Arthur West - Salem Church
“As I was saying before, I went hunting and may have had a bit too much and a radstag showed up. It slammed me into a tree. Doesn’t seem I broke anything, but my head hit the rough bark and I was bleeding.” Ace lowered his head to show the doctor the top of his head, “Figured I’d get checked out just to be safe.”

"Ah I see," Arthur replied as he put on a new pair of rubber gloves, "In that case have a seat please. How hard do you think you hit?"

Carefully, Arthur inspected Ace's headwound and carefully began cleaning the blood away to get a better look at it, "Well," He said thoughtfully, "Its a rather nasty cut but not overly serious. You shouldn't need stitches but I'll need to properly clean it to prevent infection. Although, you could still have a concussion from it. You aren't feeling overly dizzy, nauseous, or drowsy are you?"

Arthur then spent the next hour or so cleaning and dressing Ace's headwound, and wrapping it in a clean bandage. He also spent a considerable amount of time checking his coordination and general wherewithal by having him walk in straight lines, say complicated tongue twisters, and check his sensitivity to light. Once he was satisfied he didn't have a concussion he had him sit back down in the chair.

"Well aside from your cut I'd say your head is fine. I'm still concerned about the rest of you however if you were slammed into the tree. You don't appear to be in any immediate pain, which is good, but I should still check for internal bleeding and possible fracturing. Its possible you might have suffered something just as serious and not even realize it. Go ahead and take off your shirt so I can take a better
look."

His body was bruised and there were several minor scrapes to his torso that could easily be remedied but aside from that Ace looked fine. Arthur felt around his arms and back for any possible broken bones and also had him breathe in and out deeply to see if he had any chest pain. What interested Arthur though, was not the injuries he sustained, but a particular tattoo that the man had on his upper left arm. It was a symbol that he was, unfortunately, quite familiar with: The gears and sword of The Brotherhood of Steel. Along with the words "Lost Hills". That, he didn't know.

Ace seemed to catch him looking at the tattoo and Arthur immediately caught himself and went back to his examination. Trying his best to avoid conversation about it,

"Well, all in all I'd say you're alright Mr. Makovich. Your injuries should heal up nicely without issue. I will ask you to come back in a day or so however to allow me to change the bandages on your head however and to make sure that wound is healing up, but other than that you should be fine. But I'd suggest taking it easy for a few days. Although I understand that above gr...out here you can't always take time that way."

War Never Changes

Titus Crassus - Queastor of The Legion

"I see. I know not who the NCR are as a people, but from the rumors they do seem the type to roll over others for land; said rumors have not painted either of your nations in a favorable light. But I do not take stock in rumors generated by the disgruntled masses. Though from what I can tell, your culture is one based off the old Romans, even openly practicing Slavery. I will not judge you as I believe to judge a nation means one is ready to act upon their judgement. You say your Caesar was wiling to come to terms, what would those have entailed should this convention gone as planned?"

"I appreciate the restraint on your part," Titus replied, glad that this Alaskan man wasn't so quick to condemn The Legion outright, "Its refreshing after having to listen to that infernal NCR profligate President, or imposter. Depending on who you believe."

"As for the terms Caesar would have suggested: they are quite simple. A stabilization of the western border between The Legion and The NCR and a pact of non-aggression to ward against future outbreaks of hostilities. Had the NCR agreed to that proposal, then Mr. Robert Edwin House would have been asked to be the mediator to further discussions. Vegas is in a unique position of being a buffer state between the NCR and The Legion. Logically, House has an interest in keeping a peaceful border, so he would have made for an excellent third party negotiator."

"Alas, none of that came to pass. And what happened is exactly what we feared would happen. The NCR had been mustering troops for weeks and sending them east. An attack was deemed imminent by Caesar's spies in The NCR. Although the attack came much sooner, it did indeed come..."

Titus shrugged, "And now? Now there will be no peace. Caesar will finish what the NCR started, and he will make them lose all taste for war. Mark my words Mr. North."

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

Dr. Arthur West - Salem Church

Arthur had just completed giving John the full diagnosis of his ailments (OOC: That Fish will explain) when another prospective patient entered the room quite suddenly.

“Hey doc need a checkup got slammed by a radstag into a tree, and head was bleeding pretty bad before… Sorry, didn’t see you were with someone.”

"May not want to barge into a clinic unannounced," Arthur said as he packed away some of the medical instruments he'd used during John's examination, "Might wind up seeing something you'd rather have not...but luckily I was just finishing up with Mr. Kaye here," He then leaned in to John to say in an almost whisper, "If you have any more questions about what I said, please come back. And remember what I said about the medicines I could use as well, that is if you are still offering to acquire them."

"Now.." He continued, turning to the newcomer, "I believe you said something about a head injury correct? And your name?"

In From The Fog: A Fallout Far Harbor Roleplay

Rose - The Last Plank

"I don't wish ya any ill will. Sad to say, though, if Longfellow doesn't have a lead, chances aren't good there'll be more to do about this bad bit of business. We've got other fish to fry."

Rose grimaced at Corrine's words and finished the rest of her drink before standing up, a look of anger and frustration flashed across her face. She'd heard this particular tune before,

"Fine," She said defiantly, "I'll handle this myself then. Its not like I'm not used to it. Its been this way from town to town across the wastes. People just shut their doors and hold their ears, and hope that The Institute doesn't take them. Nobody wants to fight back and nobody is willing to risk their lives to help a Synth. I'll figure out what's going on here one way or the other, and I WILL find the person that killed Bishop. All of you 'tough' harbor folk can go back to drinking yourselves into a stupor."

Rose then dropped down a few caps to pay for the drink, picked up her gun and left the Last Plank.

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

Dr. Arthur West - Salem Church

Arthur was busying himself setting up his small makeshift clinic when he heard a few sharp raps on the door of the rectory office. He'd expected to have some patients soon after informing Barney that he would see anyone needing aid so this was not unsurprising. Usually, these wasteland settlements lacked anything approaching a real physician and their medical needs could sometimes be quite substantial. Arthur was about to open the door when a pale thin man stepped into the office and offered a polite greeting.

“Excuse me sir, I heard you were a doctor,” He stepped further into the man’s new room. “You don’t happen to know anything about the heart, do you? Been a few years since I’ve gotten a proper check-up.”

Arthur sized the man up and down. He was frail and thin, unhealthily so and many of the veins along his arms were visible through the paper thin skin, which was sickly translucent.

Malnourishment with signs of partial rhabdomyolysis. Likely chem addict. He thought, making a mental note.

The man extended one of his thin bony hands and offered his name,


“John Kaye, though most just call me Cook. I’m a bit of a self-made chemist, myself. Used to practice under Doctor Hardin in Megaton. You don’t happen to need any chems for your arsenal, do you?”

Oh yes, definitely a chem addict.

"Ah....one moment...."

Awkwardly, Arthur reached into his pocket for a pair rubber gloves he'd just recently unpacked and snapped them on, before returning the man's handshake. His general aversion to germs and disgust to the surface's tendency for filth and squalor hadn't changed at all since he'd departed The Institute, which made his travels and medical work more than uncomfortable at times.

"Dr. Arthur West," He said as he shook John's hand with a smile, "A general check-up then? I daresay I should be able to help with that. I can't say I am a self-made Doctor but I'm more than qualified."

I'm an actual Doctor after all. Not a glorified wasteland butcher.

"As for your offer...well..if you're referring to chems of the recreational variety. I can't say I have much use for them. But I could always use more Stimpaks and Radaway. Along with Med-X, Rad-X etc. Oh and any bottles of antiseptic as well, my stocks of that have run dangerously low I fear."

Arthur adjusted his glasses and motioned to the nearby chair, "Please sit and remove your shirt if you would" He said politely, and reached into his medical bag to pull out a stethoscope along with a very, very well-worn blood pressure gauge. He slung the stethoscope around his neck, pulled out a metal folding chair that had been leaning up against the nearby wall and sat down next to John.

"Now, lets start with that heart shall we?" He said, raising the cold metal chestpiece of the stethoscope to John's skin.

OOC: I'll leave it to you Fish to decide what sort of health problems John does or doesn't have.

In From The Fog: A Fallout Far Harbor Roleplay

The Last Plank

"But with good reason, otherwise," she continued. "Don't rightly know what any of them Institute folks might look like, but none of 'em would get past anyone without bein' noticed, I'm pretty sure. Longfellow?" Corrine drew the attention to the old hunter. "What do you think?"

Longfellow sloppily set down the bottle of booze he'd been gulping down after Mitch had brought the group their round and the old alcoholic slurred his words in a haze of perpetual drunkenness. The man had been drinking almost constantly since the morning, and even he had a limit.

"Aye, that's true. We can spot a mainlander from a mile away, and shoot em' nearly as far too."

Rose shook her head vehemently at these words of encouragement however,

"No. No you wouldn't," She said sternly, "You would have no idea they're among you because the ones they send could look just like someone you know. Someone you love. You could be one yourself and not even know it. The Institute..." She paused, finding the words particularly difficult to speak, "...they've created people. And not in the good ol' fashion way either. They've made artificial people. They're called Synths: synthetic persons. The people up in Acadia? That's what they were. They look just like humans in every way and its impossible to tell whether or not someone is a Synth unless you're willing to kill them. The Institute uses their Synths to infiltrate settlements, replace people, spy on groups, assassinate troublesome wasteland leaders...and generally cause mayhem where they can. But every so often, one of these Synths goes rouge. They escape and try to make their own way in The Commonwealth. That's where me and my group comes in. The Railroad helps these Synths to freedom."

"The problem," Rose continued, her hands starting to tremble again, "Is that The Institute doesn't just let these Synths go. Oh no. They're property to them. Advanced pieces of technology that need to be recovered, reclaimed, and reset. And so they track escaped Synths wherever they go. Sometimes The Railroad is able to make sure a Synth stays hidden for good, or at least give them the best chance. But much of the time....The Institute manages to reclaim them. Either way, they never stop hunting them."

Rose sighed again, and took a deep breath again, "I know because I'm a Synth myself. I escaped from The Institute. But instead of making my way out of The Commonwealth, I stayed with The Railroad and chose to help more of my kind. For the longest time I thought that maybe, just maybe, I was in the clear. But I should know by now that you're never truly free."

She looked up at the people seated around her in the booth, turning to each one of them in turn to give them a cold hard stare,

"Bishop is dead now. And if I had to guess, I'd say its because The Institute has sent one or more of their Synths to Far Harbor. My team and I, Bishop included, we suspected even assumed that this might happen. After all, if we, The Railroad, had heard about Acadia, its Synths, and their sudden disappearance. Then its almost guaranteed The Institute would have as well. That's why they're here I think. To retrieve the Acadia Synths and me with them. Bishop was a human. He's was a liability and not their property. It would make sense to kill him first. The problem is that we can't trust anybody now. Any of you could be a Synth. Any of you could be working for them. Any of you could have killed Bishop. Maybe even without realizing it...."

A sardonic grin spread across Rose's face and she let out a half-crazed chuckle, "I suppose I should be thankful they didn't send a Courser. You'd probably all be dead by now."

Longfellow let out a stifled burp, seemingly unfazed by Rose's tale of terror,

"Or maybe he just got his throat slit by someone 'round town who doesn't like nosy mainlanders who talk too much snooping and stirring up trouble!" He said angrily in his drunken stupor.

"What do you mean old man?" Rose glared back.

"I mean this town has enough trouble with them damn cultists. Now you're telling us we got to start turning on one another like animals? Just who the hell do you think you are anyway? I know I'm human, and I know the friends and neighbors I've lived with all my life are human and that's all there is too it. Its you mainlanders I'm concerned about and frankly, I'm starting to think you should all just get in a boat and go back where you came. Take your problems with you. Hows that sound?"

With that Longfellow stood up abruptly and stormed out of The Last Plank.

War Never Changes

Titus Crassus- Quaestor of The Legion

"You are Titus Crassus correct? I am North Ashland of the Alaskan Federation, I wish to understand your current predicament after being thrust into this war by the NCR. I know little of local affairs, Alaska is isolated."

"Ah yes," Titus nodded, "Well suffice it to say The NCR has acted out of wanton aggression. Although not necessarily unexpected, it was unwelcome. My Caesar was willing to come to terms with the NCR to stabilize the region but that suggestion was ignored in favor of invasion. The NCR is pressing into Arizona even as we speak, whilst Caesar mounts a brave defense of our lands. As it turned out, the NCR had their attack planned and readied before they even sat down at the table. This summit of nations was nothing more than a farce for them. "

"As to why The NCR has decided to invade. That I cannot say. Revenge perhaps? An attempt by their President to solidify his power? Or nothing more than a grab for resources and land. Either way, I cannot say. Only The NCR President can answer that."

The Borgio Family, Entering the Gourmand

"You say you got an audience with House?" Salvatore Borgio asked his son as they walked down the steps to the restaurant. Antony was quite excited, and had to refrain from acting over eager when telling his father about his talk with the securitron yesterday. Meanwhile, Lucia lagged behind her father and brother, still groggy and partly hungover from her late night tour of the strip.

"Yes father," Antony replied proudly, "I was informed Robert House himself would be willingly to meet with us privately."

"Fantastico!" The old Don said with a clasp of his hands, "Well done my boy. This is our ticket to bigger and better things. If we can establish a good relationship with House, we can use that to our advantage back in New York. With some of House's technology we'd be catapulted to greatness. The other families would have to kneel before us!"

"Yes well...we'll see what Mr. House has to say," Antony said proudly, and he gave his sister a smug look which earned him a snarl in return.

Finally, the family arrived at the Gourmand, and the Don and his two children took their seats.

There wasn't many here yet, but Salvatore hoped that would change soon. He was eager to establish his families dominance over New York. He had the wealth, but needed the muscle and the technology to be able to take over the city completely,

"Pardon me," He said, to anyone who might be listening, "Who here might be willing to indulge an old man with a pleasant conversation?"