Saiyan

The Second Falling of the Big Brother Government - (A Tale by KrystalKleo & Saiyan)

"Finally," he said aloud in the still air.

Stood on a mountain of rubble and concrete, Isaac Storm looked on the vista of New York, his home. It'd been a long trek back from the Commonwealth. The young hero had volunteered himself to be part of the massive trade caravan that was built to send aid to The Minute Men, who'd finally taken back control of Boston in the name of the people. 'The Good Fight was winning' - that was the chatter on lips. Slowly but surely, evil powers were being vanquished and this once-great country was getting back on its feet. And so, Isaac had been a bodyguard on the long road to the Commonwealth, stayed for a week or two, then headed back on his own. And now he was back, on the edge of New York, in the wake of familiar sights.

There was still a few nights of camping ahead of him, before he'd get back to the settlement of New Brooklyn, so he looked about for a suitable building to settle down for the evening. It was about to get dark and there was no point in travelling through the night, unless you were ready for trouble.

Tomorrow would be a precarious part of the journey. Just a little south of him was a known raider town, home to some big-time gangs. This was their territory. And he'd be brushing close by as he headed for New Brooklyn. He could've gone around - given the town a wide berth - but to hell with it, he'd just have to be extra careful.

He found shelter in a two storey building with boarded up windows, setting up his bedroll on the second floor. After making a small fire and charring some squirrel meat for dinner, he spent 20 minutes cleaning his trusty pistol.

Taurus P90 aka The Raging Bull. 50 cal. Isaac's most prized possession. He'd gotten it as a present from Katie Wensdale. She'd modified it herself, and even put little aesthetic touches here and there to remind the young hero that 'Big Sis' was always thinking of him. He disassembled it smoothly, shined it up real nice with some oil and a rag, then put it back together, checked the slide and tested the trigger action before giving it a kiss. Once it was loaded, he lay down with a single airpod in his right ear, and listened to the radio until he fell asleep.

The Second Falling of the Big Brother Government - (A Tale by KrystalKleo & Saiyan)

Isaac Storm

Age: 22 years old

Appearance: Isaac is 6' tall and a wiry but muscular-tone 155lbs. He has bright blue eyes, messy blonde hair, a boyish face and a bright smile. Out on the road, you will usually find him wearing a plain tee shirt, maybe some combat armour strapped over, combat pants and hardy military grade boots. Often carries a backpack too.

Above: Isaac aged 15 years old - Stood outside New Brooklyn settlement, posing for the camera

Background: Isaac Storm was born Isaac Carson, in Vault 118. He'd always had a knack for getting into trouble, but one particular escapade had gotten him into so much trouble, it changed his life forever. You see, Vault 118 was deathly scared of the outside world, and believed New York to be completely poisoned by nuclear fallout. They had a strict rule that the vault door was never to be opened, and anyone who tried to do so would be sentenced to death by the overseer. When 11 year old Isaac snuck up to the main entrance of the vault and released the seal that'd been shut since the very bombs dropped, the Overseer commanded that Isaac pay with his life. His mother begged for her son's life, and she managed to negotiate one final option. Her and her son had to leave vault 118 for good.

It was an option she did not relish, but with her son's life on the line, she took it.

Luck was not on their side. Mother and son were not long out of the vault when they were hunted and set upon by a pack of wolves. Isaac's mother sacrificed herself to give her son a chance, screaming for him to run. And run he did. With tears in his eyes, and a nasty bite wound bloodying up his arm, he fled the scene. Moments later he ran into help in the form of a trade caravan, whose bodyguards were led by the boy back to his mother. But they moments too late.

The wolves were slain and a hysterical young Isaac was taken to the nearest settlement, New Brooklyn, where the first words of Sheriff Luca burned themselves into the memory of Isaac and marked the man he was to become...

"You're mother died so you could live, son. Make sure you live a good life, to pay her back."

He would live a good life. He would save lives. He would become a wasteland hero. He would pay his mother back.

The Second Falling of the Big Brother Government - (A Tale by KrystalKleo & Saiyan)

The Second Falling of the Big Brother Government

by @KrystalKleo & @Saiyan

The Second Falling of the Big Brother Government - (A Tale by KrystalKleo & Saiyan)

Okay, my friend, stage is set. I'll get my CS up ASAP.

Heir to the Maou

Whoops, posted at the same as you @Restalaan, my bad bro. Luckily I didn't step on your toes, but I could've used your character in my post, damn, missed opportunity lol

Heir to the Maou

Dante stood high up above the mining camp, on a precipice of the foothills that lined the mountain range - the border of the human empire and the land his people once called home. He wasn't even supposed to be here and he knew it, having received a strict punishment a previous time when he was caught. Now, he just didn't get caught. This was the furthest he'd ever been away from the mining camp on his own two legs. Ironic that his homeland felt so close... yet so very far away.

As dawn's first rays of light crept over the eastern horizon, Dante's eyes squinted slightly. A long shadow grew behind him, hitting the tall, tall mountains at his back. In his peripheral vision, below him, the mining camp was starting to bustle. To his right, in the distance, he could see the town of Palen. Not that any of it mattered. He was staring sightlessly. Angrily.

"Well done, Dante, keep going now, and don't stop," Hagrid encouraged as Dante fired a mean combo of kicks and punches at the open air.

The early hours of the morning, in the darkness, Uncle Hagrid had been training him, as usual. It was the only regular free time that both of them shared, so it became their schedule most days. Every now and then it would end in an argument between teacher and student. Today was one of the those days. But this time it was different.

Dante ran, jumped, blasting the ground with air magic to launch high into the air... "Uuurrraaghh!" ...and landed with a furious power fist punch downward, his knuckles but an inch from the ground.

"That's enough," Hagrid signalled. "You trained hard today. Your style is so instinctively different from the family's 'Diablos Fist,' once you get going in shadow sparring. But you look so much like your mother, that all I can see is a proud Valeron."

"And what about my father?" Dante asked. Hagrid hated when this topic came up. "Don't I look at all like him? Or maybe I fight like him?"

"Dante, not this again..."

The older Dante got, the more frequently they would argue about the subject of his father. Everytime, Dante saw the pain and anger in his Great Uncle's eyes. Everytime, Hagrid refused to speak on the demon, only blaming him for getting Dante's mother, Lucille, killed. This morning though, things had changed. Hagrid finally spoke more on the subject and told Dante all he knew, all he'd managed to spy from the Overseers.

"...and so, with dreams of freedom, you a babe, Lucille and your father fled into our homeland. And within two nights, they were caught by the border patrol and slaughtered on the spot for their crimes and left for the crows to feast on. You were brought back here." The story was shocking to say the least, Dante could only fight back his tears as he listened. "But a few days later, I overheard two overseers talking. They said the patrol had doubled back over the ground where they killed your parents. And when they did, they only found your mother's body in a shallow grave. Your father was missing, replaced by a trail of purple blood that led to a river, where the trail went cold."

So many emotions to sort through. To deal with. But he'd ran out of time - The shouts for roll call could be heard below him. He closed his eyes and mentally steeled himself, before starting the easy but treacherous descent back to camp...............

..........He caught his friend, Fenn Talismon, by surprise and could feel him bristle with a start as Dante grabbed his shoulder from behind. "Morning buddy," he whispered with a grin.

"For fucking Lilith's sake, Dante, you scared the pants off me, you did," Fenn exclaimed, somehow keeping his voice in a loud whisper, and escaping trouble.

"Just in time, I see." Dante took a place at Fenn's side and nodded a hello to Virgil as the captain's eyes passed over him. "Lilith, I'm starving."

"That'll happen when you miss breakfast," Fenn shot back, eyes faced forward. "Where'd you get off to?"

"To see the morning properly."

Fenn knew what that meant. "You could've come n got me, sheesh, I had to listen to Arndolf talk about his bloody back pain all breakfast. Lilith, I was about about to shank him in it."

Dante snorted a chuckle.

“Good. No news today!” the overseer shouted over the crowd. “Daily quota is still one cart per head! One hundred eighty-two total. Dismissed.”

"Another day, another ingot," was Dante's final comment as the miners started filing into the tunnels.

Heir to the Maou

Yeah, what's wrong with that name? The giant dude from Harry Potter doesn't own that name! lmao

How's your character creation going, my guy? Hope all is well.

Heir to the Maou

Just a little character building out of boredom :D

Ten years earlier......

The tent flaps billowed in the breeze but they kept the worst of the dust outside. Inside, in the centre of the living quarters, the sixty-five year old Hagrid sat across the table from his great nephew, studying the young boy, who was unblinkingly staring back. They were sat on barrels for seats. A pile of pallets covered by a dirty sheet was their table, and on it, the playing cards set out for the final 'street' of betting in Hold 'em Poker.

"Come on, old man," his nephew goaded. "You wanna see what I've got, put your money in."

Hagrid didn't reply nor react, merely thought about the situation. His nephew was wearing that characteristic one-sided smirk of his. This was the boy's first hand ever after learning the rules of Poker. Was he really that lucky, to have something good so soon? Hagrid was sure he'd explained the rules correctly, and his nephew was sharp enough that he usually only needed to hear something once to remember it. So either he was indeed lucky... or he was indeed bluffing. And probability said the latter.

"Alright boy," Hagrid finally spoke. He put the stones they were betting with into the pot. "Call." Hagrid placed his cards on the table. "Two pair."

His nephew's smirk grew into a full blown smile and he threw his cards down on the table, except something was incredibly wrong.

"Three pairs!"

"By Lillith's Grace!" Hagrid exclaimed. The kid had enough cards to damn-near make a full deck!

"And a straight!"

"Dante, you're cheating!"

"I'm not," Dante protested. "Don't be mad because you lost. 'A Valeron holds stoic in the face of both victory and defeat,' remember."

"Dante, why I oughta..." Hagrid shook his head and made to stand up. Dante jumped up and ran out of the tent laughing. Once he was gone and his laughter faded into the background, Hagrid looked down at the cards and started chuckling to himself. "How in the world did I not see had all those cards on him?"

Blood & Ruin (A Fantasy Role-play) (M)

I am absolutely sold on your opening post and want in! Just waiting for some sign of activity on your part and I'll make a character.

Heir to the Maou

Let's gooo! Glad to be approved.