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@Zurajai

Plenty of room and happy to have you! Why not join us in our discord?


This terrible assault, can not be left unanswered!
@Prizrak Happy to have you! You are still in the discord?
The Peoples Liberation Front




"People of the Capital Wasteland. My name is Eric Jones, but many of you may know me as "Chairman Jones". This is my hour, the hour i take, to speak to you, and spread my inspiring instruction into your lives, hoping that i can convince you, to see things my way, the way of the people."

I am here to ask you a single question today, to all mothers and fathers of the capital wastelands. What are your little ones doing right now? Sleeping in your arms, playing in front of a fire or are they eating, the scraps you could wrestle away from this harsh and brutal land? Now look at them, and tell me, are you seeing a future for them?"





The Peoples Congress, Wagon 4 "Chamber of the People" / Somewhere between Hagersruin and the capital wasteland

The chairman pressed down the beetle, that had annoyed him for almost half an hour now, as he looked down the table, at the four other figures, while the familiar sound of the tracks below was breaking the silence, left behind by his order. Dunwitch was sitting to his right, still smoking, the bald head of the general secretary glittering with sweat, even in the cold of the train compartment. He silently stared with the chairman at the slim figure of the speaker of the united workers and farmers union, a thin man named Johnas Pincher, who looked like a stick tugged into a coat. Next to him sat the general, Evertt, his stripy van dyke beard grey, as he tugged his uniform coat tighter. "Scrappers keep pushing from the north, but our boys can hold them off. Chances are, that they wont start another move for the Pitt, until the winters over and with spring, we can make another collection call, drafting new meat up and sending them straight to the frontline." Like always Dunwitch said nothing, just calmly making notes. "Other raider activity? Mutants? Ghouls?" Jones looked over the table, until he found the pack, taking out another cigar. "Raiders aint gonna try anything funny again, after what we did in Morgantown this summer. No, Boss, there are no major threats, outside of the Scrappers in the north, so from my side, yeah, we can start our push into D.C."

Nodding to Everett, Jones turned to Pincher, who coughed into his hand, before smearing the content onto the cloth of the table. Noticing, the eyes of the chairman on him, he blushed in the deepest red, before quickly trying to cover the stain. "Well, as you may have already witness, chairman, our havest last year has been potentially able, under certain conditions to maintain a potential offensive of a limited period of time, if we are..." The cold glare of Dunwitch brought him out of his concept, as he stopped in the middle of his sentence. "Yes or no, Speaker. Take all the time you need." Jones could hear the man swallow, before he nodded. "Yes, we can economically support an intervention in the capital wasteland."

Clapping his hands, Jones rose from his chair, walking through the wagon with a content smile on his lips, before lighting his cigar. "Gentleman, today will go down in history. Today, the PLF will finally push to reconquer the capital of the old world, to use it to rebuild a new one!" Turning around, he raised his hand with the cigar in it, the smoke forming a straight line behind him. "For the people and the revolution..." "...AND THE CHAIRMAN!"

"There is not a child in the captial wasteland that has anything remotely that could look like a future. Do not lie to yourself. What prospects do your son and daughter have? Farming, to be raided, raped and killed by the marauding scum of the earth? Peddling jet and other poision, to fall victim to their own needle? To sell themselves in the flesh bazzars of Rivet City, to earn enough for another day, only to waste away? ENOUGH OF THIS!

Under the red banner of the Peoples Liberation Front, we do not talk about a future, WE.CREATE.IT! All able bodied men, are called to rally neart the SatCom Array. Three meals a day await you and the chance to one day tell your children, that you build their bloody future!

This is chairman Jones, signing off..."





SatCom Array NN-03d / The Capital Wasteland


The night was bitter cold, as they huddled together in blankets around the fire barrels inside the three towers. Most soldier feared the sound of the door opening, meaning that another watch would be called, out into the infernal cold. The reeking smell of unwashed bodies, powder and wet cloth was almost unbearable, yet at least, inside it was somewhat warm. But all O-dog could feel, was the heat and the fires of the Pitt, as he looked down on the huddled dirty mass, that were the glorious army of the revolution. At least that was what they called themselves, yet for him, they were just meat. Just like he was. Meat to be spend and used, bled and stewed.

O-Dog had been in man strange places in his life, tossed around like a bottle inside the patomac, yet this had to be the strangest gig of them all. Yet, the chairman had already calculated his next move against Wernher, for which he would need more then just the scraps of slave-meat he had. No, he needed badass, fullmetal raider rapid killermachines like O-dog. And O-Dog was happy to be just that, if it would mean he would spared to be torn apart by the slaves eager for raider and slaver blood.

It all seemed to incredible long ago, as he pulled up his gloves, put on his ushanka and closed his pattered coat. Walking towards the door, a groaning voice came from his side. "Coperal, where you think you going?" O-Dog did not turned, before grunting out bored. "Hunting for meat. Will be back soon."

With that, he left the tower.

The Peoples Liberation Front






"Unity! Labor! Socialism! Trust in the Chairman and trust in the Liberation Front. Onwards, Comrads! Victory awaits!"





Thunderfoot Interstate 15 - Towards Vegas




Salt Lake City burned bright in the darkness of the morning, as the 80s left the city. Thunderfoot knew, that in a year or two, the ash would have given birth to a new city, growing rich of the trade. But today, he had sacked and plundered like his father had, leaving behind nothing but a feast for the crows in his wake. His host had grown, but still would be no match even for a single Khan army. The fall of the city had been a mixture of luck, cunning and the underestimation of the Khans. This would be a mistake Papa Khan would not repeat. Thunderfoot knew, that the old Jackal would never forget the slight he had suffered by the son of Thunderbird and his death would be long and painful, should he fail. Yet he also knew, that his death would mean the end for the 80s as a people.

They rode slower than ever before, now that thousands of slaves were walking with them and the carts and trucks filled with loot. Driving past Shinji, he could see him laughing and shouting, his hand wrapped around the young woman, he had taken for himself during the raid. "Shinji, that is my name. Named after the greatest and wildest rider that ever lived. He rode to the north and south, making the whole world his highway." The woman either didnt understood, or didnt wanted to talk, but Shinji kept talking, as if there was one topic he never grew tired of, it was his own name. "While others climbed mountains, he rode up on them, like a true 80. Traveled the whole world, just to find a mountain to ride up on. Now he rides with all our ancestors and feasts in the halls of the painted host and the freckled maid." Thunderfoot knew that the girl could have found a worse owner, but most likely also a better on. Shinji would not abuse her, but then again, still take her freedom from her. "Would you like to be chained? Never to ride the highway again?" The words of the slave once more resounded in his head, as he swallowed. But his host needed slaves, for it was his peoples way.

Pushing his feet into the gas, Thunderfoot pushed on, away from his host, onto the empty highway in front of him. The air rushed past him, as his hair flew open in the wind. Faster and faster he pushed on, his red bike below him roaring loudly to a cheer of his 80s behind him. For a bit, he feared that Shinji would give chase, but Thunderfoot knew, that he would not tempt a race he could not win.
He was alone, the highways in front of him was his. The sun rose in a deep crimson in the dusty and hot air of the young morning, yet Thunderfoot felt as refreshed by it, as by a cool shower of rain. He was alive, against all odds of the last few days. He could feel the Immortality once more, as he closed his eyes. His heart beat faster as he opened his arms, before shouting out loudly. A long cheer. He had not failed, not died and not forsaken his people. The path was long and dangerous, but he had withstood the first hurdle in his path.

The next challange would be the crossing of the border into legion territory, yet Thunderfoot had his hopes. The legion was fighting a war on the other side of the sacred highway, and he brought gifts and hostages. He had send his trusted slave forward to negotiate a deal for secure passage through legion land, with a promise of peaceful intentions.

T H E C H U R C H O F S T A R R Y G L O R Y



Prioress Cabot New Vegas, The Church of the Starry Glory, Westside


The sermon was running like clockwork by now. A warm communion of the faithful, with the common masses down below, firmly pressed together in the limited space, yet still comfy enough not to cause panic of fear. "So many of you are afraid of what tomorrow brings. So many cant stay wake without worries, seeking the thrill or escape, just not to fathom another thought of the worrisome yet inevitable." The young handsome preacher was standing on a balcony, multiple lights shining at him. His cut hair and sharp suite made him look like a salesman, yet there was a honesty in his voice, that was so rare in vegas, as snow. "But here we are, united to find solace in the embrace of a caring community, warm and welcome. We withstand the tide of sorrow and loneliness. How? By embracing what we are. Stars, bright, glorious and strong. A pillar, who can not be harmed by the aeons. We are unbreakable, unshakable...we are one!" Countless voices became one, as arms were raised, forming the knot with their fingers. "WE ARE ALL ONE." There were a few seconds of silence, as the layman once more raised his voice. "Faithful... enlightened... ambitious... brethren, united in this void of purpose, fear, or duty... we shall at long last be free!




The Prioress was watching with a smile, up in the highest loge. There was a hint of prominence already present, yet her tree had yet to grow. It was a delicate matter, an intricate game of chess, she had to play, but if a Cabot had one thing in plenty, it was time. The layman preaching had been one of her first converts, a young and talented showman, hoping to strike it big on the strip, but lacking the instinct nor guts to really make it. She had picked him up, before the city would have destroyed him. Now, he was her voice, soon to create other voices. The plant was growing, slowly but steadily, stronger and stronger each day. "Behold the concept, the idea of enlightenment. For a sign will come one very day, that will grant us all a new insight into all the secrets of the universe. A glimmer of immortality. For immortality of our very being, our essence, this is true freedom. All our struggle for material goods, for prestige and recognition is just a childish delay to our true purpose. A purpose that one day, will become abundantly clear."
It was a root, carefully planted in the minds and hearts. The cult had done so before and would do so again countless other times. A root that would grow more and more, preparing the soul for true enlightenment.

She could feel the glow of the piece of the monolith so far below, calling her. For hours, she could look upon it, and lisen to the voices it woke in the back of her mind. How foolish of her brother, to dig in the desert for clarity when it was just here, waiting for him to be understood, not to be found. "Ready your mind, ready your heart and ready your soul. For the day may come, when each one of you, will be required to make a choice. To choose the happiness and eternal satisfaction of true enlightenment, or the pitiful and pathetic existence as a slave to once own cruel and limited reason? Why, i know what i will choose. To be part of a community, to be part of us. The unity that welcomes all!"

The prioress wanted to clap, but instead just sipped her water with ice, before hearing the knock on the door. Nodding to one of her guards, the door was opened. Lead by another guard, the prioress smiled warm, as she spotted the new fertile ground, for the plant to root in. "Miss Rockwell, i am so glad you could make it. Please, take a seat and have a drink. The sermon has just started and my dear friend Mister Howard has such a moving homily prepared for us. I would be most pleased to introduce you to each other afterwards. We host a modest meal afterwards and would be most happy if you, as a new friend, would join us!"
Communist Pitt here! Ready to bring the revolution to the wasteland


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