Ordure

Fallout: Orleans

@Ulstermann

"Merci pour votre gentillesse." {Thank you for your kindness.} Captain Cade said, smiling. He rolled down his pant leg, hiding the exposed wiring and circuitry. "It was no problem - I didn't think you seemed hostile, so I decided it was best to help you. I was right, luckily - glad you didn't me tirer dans la tête when you came here."

Captain Cade thought for a moment, listening to Tom Carson's offer of being a potential freelancer for The Order. "Hmm.. I suppose we could certainly do with help, especially from anyone. I suppose you could assist Captain Floure, in the Proulx District. He could certainly use help, especially with that Revolution Riot going on for the last couple of days." Captain Cade said, drumming his fingers on the table. "It'll give you a chance to see Napoleon V in person. I'd say that she has the lower class's plein soutien, and I understand why. Napoleon V is very, very charismatique. I myself was there for one of her riots - and I genuinely believed her for a moment, despite her crippling me and locking me out of duty."

"Well, I suppose it's time for us to say au rev-" Captain Cade's sentence was interrupted as bullet whistled past him, almost nailing him in the head. "Gah! Révolutionnaires Goddamn!" The man shouted, and with some effort threw his dinner table onto it's side, sending bits of food and silverware flying. He used the momentary distraction to rip a hunting rifle off of the wall and fired a round into a revolutionary midway through his window, causing his body to land on the floor, staining the rug with blood. "Mourir!" Gearington exclaimed, setting a revolutionary initiate on fire and using his buzz-saw to chop off one's arm. These aren't full revolutionaries - looks like some newcomers! They don't have the armor!"

@Tuxedo Fox

[Intimidating Presence] The fat salesman, listening to the "adventurer" threaten him, immediately felt a rush of fear shoot through him as his wrist was trapped.

"H-holy christ - d-don't kill me!" The portly merchant exclaimed, backing up into his trading outpost. "L-listen, bud, I can call you bud right? The man would lightly pat his forehead with a handkerchief, sweating profusely. "I may - and y-you didn't hear this from me, now.. I work with the, ah, French Revolution." Jimbo Gribble would immediately stuff his handkerchief back in, glancing between Boss and Little Boy. If he could just flick the switch.. no, he'd get two shots in the gut before he could. "I work with 'em, set things up.. even fix up that riot gear of theirs.. and we're planning something big soon. I ain't telling you no m-matter how scary you are, b-but.. you'll know when you s-see it - and you better hope you d-don't see it."

"H-hey, you see that broken chain? You know what, I'm sure you did - that's the symbol of the French Revoluti - shit. I shouldn't have told you that." The man said, immediately backtracking as he stumbled over his words. "Whatever. It's done now. You see that symbol - it means there's revolution activity t-there. A couple of guys came before you - initiate revolutionists - I gave them the address to Captain Cade's house, the cripple that heads this whole dump." Jimbo pointed nervously, his mechanical arm slick with sweat, at the large marble building covered in flags. It was surrounded by unkempt civilians wearing rags and other forms of dirtied clothing, armed with small arms, attempting to clamber in. "That's where they are now."

"I wouldn't go th-there if I were you. They're just initiates - ain't got the whole deal yet with armor - but they're crazy as hell." Jimbo Gribble began backing up to the backroom door of his outpost. "Gah - just get the hell away from me!" The man would scurry into his backroom, slamming the door shut and locking it.

Next to him, the Eyebot "Asshead" would chirp playfully, nudging Boss with his antennae - his new owner, and would play a plaful little tune from the local radio station.

Fallout: Orleans

@Ulstermann

Well, I suppose his squad mates were filled with arseholes.

Fallout: Orleans

@Vulkan

You can join now, actually - always in need of a new roleplayer.

You know, until you don't need any more roleplayers.

Fallout: Orleans

@Lord Coake

[Pathfinder] The mercenary would navigate through the crowd with extraordinary ease, bobbing and weaving through the chaotic street, dodging thrown bottles, knife stabs, and gunshots as he made his way to Napoleon Bonaparte V herself.

As the covert scout edged closer to the revolutionary, he would find that the people gradually grew more wild. It went from simple shouts of protest, to the waving of flaming torches, and eventually to pipe rifles and pistols fired into the air out of pure passion. The woman leading all of this, the one who began the riots and chaos in the Proulx District, stood towering over Dominic Garret on her mountain of junk and garbage from the people themselves, offering her a soapbox to stand on and voice her views. The woman was geared in full black riot gear that the scout would recognize as NCR Black Ranger armor, the elite armor used by soldiers in the NCR, but lacked the popular duster.

The multiple soldiers by her, including a riot geared troop with a sniper rifle and a similarly riot geared one-armed troop with a shishkebab, kept the crazed and passionate civilians off of her with nonlethal jabs and shoves, ensuring that their highly charismatic leader wasn't swarmed by her adoring fans. It seemed every word spoken was dripping with dedication, steel, and care, and it was hard not to fall to her extraordinary charisma. The woman was covered in riot gear, but her head was free, and you could truly see the burning passion in her eyes and her flaring emotions that gave her the extraordinary amount of high energy that she left in the civilians.

The woman continuously paced around her high mountain of junk, and in the background, multiple Order Knights and Order Paladins attempted to suppress her; some particularly brave ones even firing laser shots at her - but the soldiers either disappeared under the swarming and unorganized crowd, or her soldiers deflected it with their riot shields and fired back, often instantly killing the troop with a clean, single shot in the head. The woman would always continue on, occasionally even referring to people in the crowd, making them go crazy. Whoever Napoleon V was - it was evident that she was extremely charismatic and made it hard to resist her views.

[Cult of Personality] "-and he sits high in his ivory tower without a care in the world, greedily feasting on his Radstag Flank, while we here die of thirst and hunger as he and the nobles look down on us for scrounging together what poor leftovers they leave for the rest of us!"

Napoleon V continued, her speech constantly growing in strength. As the mercenary listened to her, he would find her views very reasonable; a democracy could be far better than a monarchy couldn't it, especially one like the NCR? The NCR and French Revolution weren't too different; and it didn't seem too unreasonable to consider attempting to join with someone with that amount of charisma..

Pokemon Mystery Dungeons: Stargate [Mid-High Casual] Accepting!

This seems very interesting; and one of my first roleplays was a Pokemon Mystery Dungeon one, so there's a weird nostalgia factor to it. I'll be posting a character soon - I really like the look of it so far.

Fallout: Orleans

I'm planning on fixing up the map to make it a little more legible, but the current districts are like so -

Northwest, Topleft corner - Millot District
Centermost District, right of Millot District - Savreaux District
Topright District - Lambert District
Center District, Split in River - Fontaine District
Bottomright, Southeastern - Proulx District

Fallout: Orleans

So, for this being my first rp on this site I just wanted to ask: Is it commonplace to follow a post order here? Or is something like that just specified by the gm? Basically im worried ive been posting to much/out of order, even though I'm sure if I really messed up someone would have said something by now. Still though, felt like I should ask this just to be safe.

@Tuxedo Fox

Some roleplays will utilize a post order, but I don't personally enjoy using one; if one person doesn't respond, then it can stall a roleplay for days. Just post however you like. If you want to go one-on-one with someone for a while or wait until I give you an event, than go ahead.

Fallout: Orleans

@Karos

The captain grimaced, his eyes hardening as he stared at the walking stealth suit. "Donc, vous voulez votre argent, non? {So, you want your money, huh?} A mercenary. I'll throw ya' 20,000 caps. Up front, from the king's treasury himself." The captain seemed almost fully aware that he was sending Sebastian Monroe out to die - he hardly expected him to return with her body. "The woman's of.. mild importance. The head of a blossoming revolution that we've been warring with for a few decades. Il est sans importance pour vous, but you'll be doing a substantial favor for The Order. It'll be as simple as stabbing her in the back using that stealth suit of yours."

The captain sighed, before beginning speaking with his colleagues again; discussing the problem of The Revolution as if he hadn't just opted to pay the mercenary in front of him twenty thousand caps to kill the head of the revolution - he knew that while without Napoleon V, the revolution would topple just as quickly as it had begun with no proper, charismatic leader to take her place; but then again, The Order had hired thirty seven mercenaries across the entire nation over the past sixty years to kill the leader of the revolution; ranging from Gunners to Talon Company, everyone had their fair share of killing the leader of the group; and they had all failed.

"If you're looking to do that half now, half later shit, than no dice." The captain said, taking a thick puff of his cigar. "It shows me you aren't professional; you can't trust your own work. I'll give you all or nothing here."

Fallout: Orleans

@Ulstermann

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

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. "Mon nom est Noel Cade - captain of the trading outpost of Orleans. This wasn't always the case, toutefois - 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." 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.

"It was late in the night when they attacked us sans provocation - 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." Captain Cade said, not sad, but wistful. "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 impacte de balles. 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."

"I almost escaped - but not without a cost. The great "voice of the people" herself graced me with my presence." The captain said, bitter. "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 laughed."

Captain Cade took a deep breath. "Après, I was found by a nearby squadron, luckily. Napoleon V didn't follow. I suppose elle a assumé 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." The captain sat back in his chair, as the crackling of the fire grew louder. "Je suppose 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."

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

@Lord Coake

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

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.

"Retard."

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 massive 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.

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

@Tuxedo Fox

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

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.

"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?!" The man said, walking up to Boss. "Well, shut up! I'm Jimbo, of Jimbo's Robros - the leading robot outpost of the T-O-O, and the cheapest, too!"

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. "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!" The man wrapped his arm around Boss, trying to lead him to his store. "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!" The man laughed, waving to an Eyebot that chirped playfully.

"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." The man chuckled. "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."

@Karos

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

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.

"Captain Fillimore - that's me. The head of all troops in the Savreaux District. The ghoul said, his raspy voice full of confidence. "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."

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.

"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."

Fallout: Orleans

@Ulstermann

Yup, working on the IC right now, actually.