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In War Never Changes 26 May 2017 0:45 Forum: Nation Roleplay
Huron Base, Michigan, Enclave Eastern Headquarters

Deep within the Huron Forest, once a place of great beauty among nature now reduced to fallen trees, overgrown weeds and marshland, lies the Enclaves Eastern base of operations, Huron Base. Inside the steel walls of the underground site, men and women in the well-kept uniforms of Enclave staff and officers hurried past each other in the hallways to their posts. For a long time now, the base had remained dormant, awaiting orders from the central leadership. Too long. Today, the base would awaken from its slumber, eagerly awaiting not only their first orders, but the arrival of General Redwine.

The command room saw the most activity. Its walls of cold steel were hidden by maps stuck to it, and various active computer screens lined across the room. Desks, organised in neat rows, filled the center of the room while the various Enclave staff scrambled past one another from one computer to the next, collecting and processing various pieces of information. At the front of the room stood a young man, apparently directing the efforts. Calmly folding his hands behind his back, he stood behind several seated individuals at their own computers as they accessed the Enclave communication network. Rudimentary compared to the communication systems of the United States, it now remained as one of the premier communication networks still active across the wastes. Suddenly, a repetitive beep sounded from one of the screens, signalling an alert of some sort. The figure opposite the screen receiving the alert turned his attention to the commanding officer stood behind him, "Sir. The command has come through."

"Finally. Signal the operational alarm. The men have been briefed."

Immediately, the slow, repetitive wail of a siren echoed across the base. Springing to action, various soldiers Enclave left their dormitories in orderly formation as they proceeded to arm themselves and step into the infamous power armor of the Enclave. It was not long before the force of some thirty men had prepared themselves, and the group made their way to the hangar before splitting into two vertibirds. Through their headsets, the grainy voice of their expedition leader addressed them, "You were all present at the briefing, and you know what it is we must do. I want a perimeter set up around the ruins of the research and development complex as soon as we land. Our preliminary investigations have shown that there is a built-up settlement based near, and around, the complex. Pheonix Squadron, you will eradicate the mutants while Raptor Squadron searches the complex. No slip-ups. This is what you've trained for. Over and out."

Almost as soon as the instructions ceased, the familiar whir of the vertibird engines kicked in as the hangar doors gradually opened. The Enclave, finally, was back.
Ultra Lux Casino, New Vegas, The Free Economic Zone of the Mojave

Mallory remained seated with his arms folded as the events unfolded before him. He couldn't help but feel somewhat a little taken aback by the actions of the NCR, though he wasn't complaining. Certainly, the chaos caused by the NCR in the west would play to the advantage of the Enclave. Fools, he thought. If anything, this conference was concrete proof that America needed to be united under one banner once more. They were like children. Arrogant, stupid, fiercely independent. But most of all, unable to see the big picture. That would be their downfall, of that Mallory was certain.

He could not help but smirk for a brief moment as the representatives from the savage Jaded 'Empire' entered the room. They had no idea of the reckoning that was coming for them. Truth be told, Mallory paid little attention to much of the convention, greatly uninterested in the squabbles of lesser beings. Witnessing the spectacular fight between a member of the NCR and some savage, however, proved greatly entertaining. Allowing a loud, surprised laugh to echo through the room, Mallory clapped his hands together for a brief moment, reveling in the chaotic situation. It was not long before the securitrons had contained the situation, however, and Mallory found himself resigned once more to boredom.

Rising from his seat as the various factions began to retreat from the conference for more private discussions, Mallory too headed silently for his own suite. He almost felt a slight sympathy for the assembled delegates. They thought the future was theirs to command.
Ann Arbor Settlement, Michigan, The Jaded Empire

"Disgusting", remarked one Enclave soldier of Pheonix Squad to another as they stood in the center of what was once a relatively prosperous settlement for the Jaded Empire. Around them was the chaos of a battlefield. Primitive homes and fields were ablaze, and corpses of the settlers lay scattered on the ground. Screams echoed throughout the wind as some desperately tried to flee with their loved ones, while others took up their simple rifles in a desperate attempt to defend what was once theirs. They would have had as much success were they to lob rocks at the Enclave soldiers, with their bullets barely chipping the advanced power armour. To the soldiers of Pheonix Squadron, it was a sporting exercise. The settlers of Ann Arbor were the day's game.

The vertibirds had landed in the settlement only moments ago, allowing the Enclave soldiers to storm out with the element of surprise. Barely having time to react, some settlers froze in fear, whilst others attempted to run for their lives. Families struggled to find one another amidst the gunfire, smoke and confusion and despite the cries for mercy, the fight raged on. Enclave soldiers moved from building to building. One soldier, with a chilling calm about him, threw a cluster of grenades into a home of metal scrap, silencing the screams from within. Another raised his gatling laser, firing aimlessly into a group of fleeing settlers. "Run!", screamed a father dressed in the simple rags of a farmer to his family, before a stray laser bolt scalded his back and threw him to the ground lifelessly. Such atrocities, to the Enclave, were a necessity.

Outside the university complex, Raptor Squadron assembled and prepared to enter the ruins as the massacre of the settlement not far from them continued on. "Alright!", yelled what can be assumed to be the captain of Raptor Squadron to his men, "Tight formation, keep an eye out for these mutants. Head for the old research buildings, and get every document, folder and item of interest you can find. Let's move!" On the order, the squadron moved into the complex and began their search, ransacking each room for things of value to the Enclave. What they were looking for, was not particularly clear.

Not completing their search for several hours, various items and collections of documents were shuttled to the vertibirds by the soldiers throughout the duration of the search. Finally having deemed everything of worth had been collected, the squad reassembled outside of the complex and made their way to the vertibirds, joined by their colleagues of Pheonix Squadron. A dreadful silence lay in the air as black smoke rose into the sky from the ruined settlement. The chaos of battle now transformed into an eerie peace, the quiet was broken by the vertibird engines as the Enclave prepared to leave.

Signalling to for his soldiers to board the vertibirds, the commander surveyed the slaughter before him before boarding himself.

"Good work, men."
Here are the two WIP sheets for both of my characters. I should hopefully get them both finished tomorrow after I sort out any potential relations.

In War Never Changes 19 May 2017 1:25 Forum: Nation Roleplay
T h e E n c l a v e
Remnants of the Pre-War American Government



"There's a lot of beauty in ordinary things. Isn't that kind of the point?"

As you might have guessed from the title, this roleplay is heavily influenced by The Office TV show. Like the show, our characters will be employed by a sales company, ours being that of Ewing & Byrd Office Supplies inc. A relatively small business with its headquarters in Los Angeles, our characters will work in the Fresno branch (located in Fresno, California).

With an emphasis on character development, story-arcs and colleague relations, this roleplay will center around the daily, mundane lives of our characters. The development of their personalities, relationships with co-workers, ambitions outside of work and for the future are all for you to decide, and this roleplay will have a large amount of freedom. On occasion, there will be events to encourage this, by placing your character in more unique situations. From training days and 'work holidays' for a day or two, to after-work parties and meetups.

We'll get to know your characters, and explore their lives. To achieve this, while we will need dedicated roleplayers, there will not be an emphasis on quick posting. Instead, consider this something this to always come back to. I would say one post a week would be the minimum, though this is not a one-size fits all rule.

As for jobs, there will be several departments within our small office. Sales, the largest department, and Accounting. Roles will not be restricted to these however, and you are welcome to create a character for anything from a newly hired Junior Salesman, a number-crunching accountant or regulation-focused HR Rep (heck, maybe even a HR Rep who couldn't care less about the rules!)
A receptionist, customer relations adviser or resident IT guru are but a few more general ideas.

Hopefully this has piqued your interest! Should there be enough interest, I'll work on an OOC and open up a discord chat. In the meantime, feel free to leave any questions. Cheers!
In War Never Changes 14 May 2017 22:45 Forum: Nation Roleplay
Yellowstone Base, Enclave Headquarters

Nestled in the valleys and ridges of Yellowstone National Park lay the Enclave Headquarters, which had an unusual sense of urgency about it on this particular day. Within the deepest vaults of the base lay the briefing room - with walls of cold steel, lit by dim-blue lights and several chairs scattered around. Maps and reconnaissance reports were plastered across the large table, which itself functioned as a large map of the known wasteland at the front of the room. Standing around the table were the four leaders of the Enclave, having made the rare decision to gather for but a day.

"It's settled then," remarked President Gethen with his usual air of confidence and authority, "Mallory. You will go alone to this meeting. Make your presence known, let those present gaze upon the Enclave, and let them be reminded of the true power across these wastes." The President gave a nod to those gathered, picking a brown, paper folder from the table before flicking through its contents. "Sawyer - return to Langley as soon as you are able. Keep us updated on the progress you are making," snapping shut the folder and raising it in gesture towards the Cheif Scientist, he continued "Judging from the developments you have made so far, I expect our best days do indeed await us." With the other leaders nodding in agreement, the President finished, "You all have your orders. I will not accept failure from any of you, the best this accursed land has to offer. God Bless America. God Bless the Enclave." With that, the President re-opened the folder and examined its contents once more whilst exiting the room, followed not long after by the other leadership.
Only a few hours later, Mallory was ready for departure. Standing before a mighty vertibird of the enclave, he felt a firm pat on his shoulder. "Ah - sir. Here to wave me off?"

"Only to remind you of your duty - Mallory. No deals - no pacts. Remember that. The Enclave does not, and will not, enter into any form of negotiation with these mutants. They are all pretenders, and that must not be forgotten."

The cold of the mountains whipped through the air as the vertibird began to power up its propellers, generating an almighty wind. Raising their voices to be heard, the two men spoke briefly about the exact arrangements for Mallory's arrival and stay, before the President returned to the base. Alone, Mallory passed the guarding Enclave sentries to board the vertibird, prepared for the long flight ahead.

The Free Economic Zone of the Mojave, New Vegas

"Approaching the McCarran Strip, sir."

A grainy voice spoke through Mallory's headset as he awaited landing. It still felt odd to him, attending this meeting in the first place. The Enclave was the government, and attending such an event seemed to him almost a recognition that they no longer held the power they once did before the bombs fell. Still - he had his orders, and if there was one thing he knew how to do, it was to follow orders. Especially those from Gethen. He had never before seen such drive, such pure ambition in a man. He held faith in that fact, for if Gethen had sent him here, it was surely with purpose. Fishing around in his pocket, Mallory withdrew a small pill-bottle, swallowing one before landing. The Enclave doctors had prescribed him an altered form of Rad-Away for the duration of his stay, and instructed him to take one every four hours to avoid the effects of the radiation. He had decided to take one every two hours.

Landing softly, Mallory removed his headset and stepped out of the Vertibird, shielding his eyes momentarily from the sun. The airfield brimmed with activity. With wastelanders, and mutants. Without barely a moment to examine his surroundings properly, a securitron approached him. "Vice President Mallory of the United States." Cocking his head at the machine, he understood this must have been one of House's tricks, to calm and ease the participants of the upcoming convention. Responding with a simple nod to the machine, it continued, "Please, accompany me, sir. I shall escort you to the convention." Taking a final look at his surroundings, it wasn't as if he had much choice. The Enclave had taken the decision not to send troops with him, for one very simple reason. Should a wastelander ever lay eyes upon a soldier of the Enclave - it is to be the last thing they lay such eyes upon. Still, he couldn't help but feel particularly vulnerable.

Approaching the city of New Vegas himself, Mallory couldn't help but be slightly taken aback. He didn't know whether to be disgusted, or slightly impressed by the state of the city resembling something almost that of one pre-war. At the very least, he found himself disappointed it was inhabited by those unfit for such pleasures.

Walking the steps of the Ultra-Luxe Casino, Mallory scanned the room. He recognized the various factions presented - though some names were lost to him. The Legion, NCR, Brotherhood... Many of the current players in the post-war America had gathered, as well as some undesirables. Standing for but a moment to scan the room, he found a seat surrounded by no-one as of yet, and sat himself there. Not a few moments went by before he heard the leader of the NCR address him directly,
"Ah the enclave... You know what? How about you save us lives and time and just surrender now... seriously an fucking tribal kicked you ass and we flattened what was left.. you know we are gonna do it again or maybe the old guys Tins cans will if they can catch up to you with the crap they have for an air force" James chuckled "You may have helped the legion at Hoover but I'm willing to make you a deal... if you surrender now and give up plans to "purge" the mutants, I'll have you become a "northern" state of the NCR. You will remain free, alive and allowed to continue the non-purging stuff you have going but you will follow our rules and work with us to make Amercia great for everyone again....well almost everyone."

The blind ignorance of the man was infuriating. Mallory locked eyes with the man across the room with a dark intensity for only a few seconds, before breaking into laughter with a wave of his hand. "The might of the New California Republic tempered by a city of drunkards, and brainless machines. Do not speak to me again - James." Mallory wagered it would be this undeserved confidence that would be the undoing of the most vile entity in the wasteland - the New California Republic. He despised it, more than the rest, because it pretended to stand for the pre-war America. Mallory knew better.

Content with James turning his attention to the Legion, Mallory sat quietly, observing the conference as the remaining leaders funneled in, seemingly uninterested.
In War Never Changes 13 May 2017 0:07 Forum: Nation Roleplay
T h e E n c l a v e
Remnants of the Pre-War American Government (WIP)

T h e E n c l a v e
Remnants of the Pre-War American Government (WIP)

In The Coalition 27 Apr 2017 0:33 Forum: Casual Roleplay

Location: Diner -> Watchtower
Interacting with: Aoife -> Cal Graham (@smarty0114)

Julian sat in the booth, donning a dark baseball cap that sheltered most of his hair. To match, he wore a black hoodie with a grey t-shirt underneath, and a pair of thick, equally black shades hung from the top of his t-shirt by a temple. It was an unusually low-profile outfit for such an outgoing individual, usually relishing in the attention given to him by the media and public alike. Flicking his eyes around the small diner, that he certainly seen better days, there was not much motion. The lone waitress stood idly behind the counter, picking at her pink-nails, whilst the chef, visible through a hole in the wall behind the waitress, appeared to be watching something on his phone. Only the sound of cutlery occasionally scratching against plates could be heard, alongside the muffled whispers of conversation. Across from Julian sat a young redhead, nursing a cup of coffee in both hands, blowing at it gently. Dressed in a slick, black-grey dress, she stood out like a sore thumb.
“You know – when you said we should stop going to our usual spots for lunch, if I’d known you meant this, I’d have stayed at the office.” Julian made no attempt to hide his wry smile, and despite his attempts to convey confidence through humour, his omission of the watchtower in favour of a vague ‘office’ spoke volumes. Ever since the attack, he had hidden himself within the watchtower, and when outside, he made every effort to conceal his identity. Only a week ago, he would have paraded through the streets in his costume, proud to receive the attention so freely afforded to him by the adoring masses. They weren’t adoring any more.
“It’s out of the way. Quiet. I think it’s charming.” Resting her cup on the table, pushing it away ever so slightly as she took the opportunity to bring up the topic on her mind, she quickly darted her eyes across their booth ensuring there were no unwanted listeners before continuing in a lower tone, “I told you, Julian. I told you. This was never going to work, and I tried, really, I did. You know I did. I wanted it to work, for you. I didn’t like it, but I wanted it to work…” Pausing for a soft sigh, she pursed her lips empathetically, “It’s time to leave them. That group. Please, before this gets any worse.”

Julian could not help but break eye contact. He was never any good at these conversations, and avoided them where possible. He knew she was right, she was always right. Yet he couldn’t agree, he was the Coalition. That group of freaks, of empowered beings, of superheroes, whatever they were called now. They were his purpose, and he’d gone without that for far too long to give it up when he finally had it. “Aoife – I can’t leave. You know why.” Looking back towards the woman sat opposite him, it pained him to disagree. He knew the hurt he was putting her through by continuing to work as a member of the Coalition, the worry, the anxiety. “…but things are going to get better. When we catch this guy – when we beat him. Then everything will be back to norm- actually, not normal, hard to be normal when you’re a superhero, huh?”
Aoife groaned, rolling her eyes slightly as she pleaded with him, “You don’t need to be that. Why can’t you just be my husband? These people don’t need you – there’s other people like you out there, but I do. I need you. We came here together, and I-” Cutting herself off for a moment, she had always consciously avoided the subject of death, and instead said simply, “This isn’t the life I thought we would have. Just tell me you’ll think about it.” Reaching her arms across the table, she took his hands in her own tightly.
“I’ll think about it. I mean that.” Offering a sympathetic smile toward her, he gave her hands a parting squeeze before rising from the seat, “Keep in touch?” Nodding silently, he laid a hand on the back of her head, pulling her in gently for a hug. “I love you.” Kissing the top of her head after a few seconds, he broke away and headed for the Watchtower.

Digging his hands into his pockets, he kept to himself as he made his way toward the building and despite his getup, Julian could not ignore his growing anxiety at being spotted. He found it got worse the longer he was outdoors, and it was something he had never experienced before. Why was he scared to be seen? He didn’t even quite know himself – he’d rationalised the situation in his head countless times, gone over how he’d react if it was a fan who approached him, or a new critic. Yet each time he took a step outside, he felt the same tension in his chest, the same quickening of his breath, the same rise in his heartbeat. Shaking his head slightly, a physical effort to dispel the thoughts from his mind, he tried his best to force his thoughts onto another subject.

He knew Nathaniel was giving his press conference today. He made a point not to watch it. Julian knew what questions they would be throwing at Stroud – Are you working with this new enhanced? Are you able to stop him? How much more death are you going to bring? – and he’d decided he would rather not have to contemplate them. Not now, at any rate.

Quickening his walk as he reached the entrance of the Watchtower, he hoped to avoid the journalists and other photographers who seemed to always be present outside the building. Thankfully, it seemed rather quiet. Most eyes were likely on the aftermath of the press conference, to his luck. Making his way through the entrance, Julian removed the cap from his head and ran a hand through his hair, sorting it roughly. Stuffing the cap into his pocket he made for the elevator and rose several floors to find some privacy.

Deciding to stop off at the room Julian had claimed as his own, he took a seat at his desk and opened the laptop. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t, but as per usual, the curiosity had gotten the better of him. Searching through the internet with entries such as ‘coalition secretly evil’, ‘coalition conspiracy’, and ‘coalition press conference’, Julian found himself going through several hours worth of material before falling asleep at the desk.

Bzzd. Bzzd. Bzzd.

Unwillingly opening his eyes, his phone vibrated loudly on the table. His intent to keep in touch with his wife, having increasingly kept to himself after the attack, had already been broken. Opting not to answer the phone call, but instead send an apologetic text to his wife, promising to be home that night, he returned his phone to the desk and rose from the chair, stretching his back. Making his way out of the room, he headed for the common area, desperate for a coffee to ease his rude awakening. To his luck, he spotted Cal with what he assumed to be a fresh pot.

“Hope some of that’s going around, pal. Mind if I grab a cup?”
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