Tiberius67

War Never Changes

SAC Command Bunker - Conference Room

The spartan, but well furnished conference room was alongside the second story of the cavernous Operations room, where long ago the Strategic Air Command Staff had controlled the Old World Government's nuclear forces before and during the Great War...and now was from where the Midwestern Order controlled it's forces, under the ever watchful eye of the Lord-Paladin. The north wall of the room was tempered glass, giving the occupants a panoramic view of the operations room, and the maps and status boards on the walls. But the occupants, sitting around the long, ancient wooden table, had their attention elsewhere....a speaker sitting on the center of the table.

"....The New California Republic - in its core, will remain the same", the speaker crackled. "In the coming weeks, there will be a change to the political system. We will transition from a Republican system, where everything is run from Shady Sands - to a more federalized system, where many states that make up the NCR will have more word and say."

"What will that mean for you? Less taxes and less bureaucracy in your dealings with the government. Shady Sands will still remain our capital - but most of your political work, can be done in the state in which you live in. In the following days, I will be in contact with the Governors that are there to manage your states. There will be new elections, and well as new laws that will be drafted up in the near future."

"We will be looking more inward, starting to develop and build upon what we have. We can't expand forever, there are others whom do not like what we are doing. Once we might have ignored them. We can longer do that. We have a choice - we can either change with the growing times or go the fate of our predecessor. If one has to wonder what that is - one has to only look out the window."

"This is General Lee Shu. Out."

General Tsu's voice was replaced by music, and in response to a gesture made by the robot sitting at the head of the table, the radio broadcast was speedily cut off as the echo he was receiving from hearing this in two places was irritating.

"It appears that Kimball's death has sparked a coup", Barnaky said, "Your thoughts, ladies and gentlemen?".

"Tsu is certainly saying the right things. My Lord", replied Paladin-General Wilson. "Perhaps the repeated defeats have finally forced them to face reality....their current policies are simply not sustainable in the resource depleted world our thrice damned ancestors left for us." He then cleared his throat and continued. "In any case, such rhetoric should be encouraged. I would recommend the contractors we have in California be recalled immediately."

"Agreed", Barnaky replied, "I'm giving that order as we speak." He then turned to a Scribe on his left. "Brother Harold, what news have we of Lucius Caesar?"

"He was wounded in the battle but still lives, but that is all we know right now", Brother Harold, one of Martin's deputies, said. "Our Embassy in Santa Fe is trying to get in contact with his Field HQ to learn more."

"Paladin-Commander Jeffries has arrived in Santa Fe and is taking steps to organize the defense of the city as agreed to previously", Wilson added, "he says the local Legion commanders are quite cooperative, but don't know any more about the situation with Lucius than the Embassy does."

"We need to get someone to Lucius asap", Barnaky growled, "I need to know what Lucius is going to do next. Defeating Kimball and his Expeditionary Force is a major achievement, given the disparacy in tech, but it's just the sort of achievement that can go to a man's head and make him overreach. Lucius is a prudent man, but they have endured much these last five years." He looked at Brother Harold. "Expect orders from Brother Martin regarding this."

"Next item on the agenda is Oklahoma", Barnaky said, "What are the Texans up to?"

"They've made camp in Norman, about 20 miles South of Oklahoma City", Wilson replied, "5000 Infantry, 300 Cavalry...and we believe a reinforced Company of Texas Rangers. They've also got several hundred civilians with them."

"Settlers, My Lord", added Sister Mason, the Inquisition representative. "Part of a official settlement initiative sponsored by the New Dallas government. An opportunity we took advantage of....it was advertised locally to the general public." She shrugged. "No doubt a few Texas Rangers are traveling with the civilians as well, for the same reason."

"We believe they mean to push their border to Oklahoma City", Wilson continued, "While a powerful force, it's not powerful enough to make a credible offensive on our lands, which could be a deliberate calculation on their part. Not to mention the logistical problems supporting an opposed invasion of Kansas would present to them." He then added, "but once secured, and connected to Texas's rail net...it would make a excellent staging area for incursions Northward."

"Is that what you think they intend?", asked Barnaky.

"That question could be better answered by the Inquisition or Office of State, My Lord", Wilson answered, "For my part, I fail to see what they would gain by doing so....but if they are acting on ideological beliefs, logic, not to mention perceived economic or strategic benefit, might have nothing to do with it."

"It all comes back to this 'Co-Prosperity Sphere' Tenpenny mentioned", Barnaky said, "What is it's purpose? And why is it being formed in secret?"

Barnaky looked back to Wilson.

"I take it contesting a Texan occupation of Oklahoma City and southern Oklahoma is not an option at this point", Barnaky said. Wilson shook his head, though Barnaky knew the answer already. "Very well, then....we'll just have to maintain our current defensive posture and wait and see. We've got bigger fish to fry anyway."

Communications Room - @Kouropalates

The Duty officer pulled the message off the teletype the moment it finished printing and read it.

FLASH TRAFFIC-FLASH TRAFFIC-FLASH TRAFFIC

*****MESSAGE BEGINS******

RECALL INTRUDE N313 WITH IMMEDIATE EFFECT **REPEAT** RECALL INTRUDE N313 WITH IMMEDIATE EFFECT. RECENT DIPLOMATIC BREAKTHROUGHS HAVE MADE OPERATION COUNTERPRODUCTIVE. IN FIELD ASSETS TO IMMEDIATELY EXFIL AO BY BEST PRACTICAL MEANS. AGENT WILL BE DISPATCHED ASAP TO FOLLOW UP REGARDING DISPOSITION OF CONTRACT. - BARNAKY

*****MESSAGE ENDS******

FLASH TRAFFIC-FLASH TRAFFIC-FLASH TRAFFIC

Immediately, the Duty Officer barked out the orders to begin the process of transmitting the message....

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

Mary Hawthorne - Between her and Brandy's house

The Deathclaw shrieked in pain as the sabot slugs hit and bit deep, whirling around and roaring out a challenge. Fortunately, before it could leap at Mary while she was reloading, Shelby stepped in with what appeared to be the poker from her fireplace, and took a swing at the deathclaw, connecting with it's head and sending it reeling until it fell at Brandy's feet, thrashing spasmodically in it's death throes, Shelby's blow being the final straw.

“Holy shit, you don't fuck around,” Shelby winked at Mary and spun the poker around once, grasping it with both hands and preparing to charge in and finish the Deathclaw off when she stopped in her tracks and looked back, over Mary's shoulder in the direction of the church. Immediately, the sassy expression, and the color, drained from her face.

“A fucking mutie”, she said. She then turned and sprang forward, grabbing Brandy by the arm and trying to drag her away. Brandy, frightened out of her wits, just sat there aiming at the dying creature and pulling the trigger of a pitifully small (and empty revolver) over and over again. “You're fuckin’ funeral Twit.”, Shelby hissed and then she dashed off towards the church. Mary raised the now loaded shotgun to finish the Deathclaw, but it finally expired. Mary then lowered the weapon, and looked around to take in the situation. The streets were in total chaos...by the church Shelby was helping up the blond mercenary woman from under a dead Mutant. Gunfire was sounding all across town, another Mutant with a huge gun of some sort was killing another Deathclaw over by the Diner.

At this point, the bourbon no longer shielded Mary from the realization of how much danger she had placed herself in. While she could use a gun...at least a simple one like her shotgun or revolver...a double barrel shotgun was not the tool to be hunting a Deathclaw with. while she did have means of dealing with these creatures....it would completely blow her cover to make use of her magic. She had to get indoors at once. The clicking from Brandy dry-firing her revolver reminded Mary of her presence.

"How did you make it to adulthood?", Mary thought irritably. "I haven't seen someone so shielded since I was her age."

But it was clear, if Mary left her there, she would die. For some reason, that bothered Mary...stirring feelings she thought long dead. After a moment of internal struggling, she rationalized that helping the younger woman would ingratiate her with the others, and wasn't just fooling altruism. the decision made, she tried to take her by the arm to lead her away.

"Come on, Brandy", Mary said, "It's not safe here! We need to go inside!" But like with Shelby, she resisted and continued blankly staring at the now dead Deathclaw and pulling the trigger of her empty revolver.

"Damn ye, ye foolish girl!", Mary said, "Ye don't have the good sense God gave ye!" She then leaned the shotgun against the dead creature, and bodily picked up Brandy and threw her over her shoulder. The younger girl resisted, but Mary was stronger and once she picked Brandy up, she grabbed her shotgun and headed back towards her house, ignoring Brandy's feeble struggle to get free. She walked in her front door, pushing it shut again with her foot as she passed, and took Brandy upstairs to her bedroom, throwing her onto her bed.

"Stay in here until this is over, you silly girl", Mary said sternly, then closed the door behind her and went back downstairs. Walking back into the living room, her eyes lit upon the two dormant robots in the living room.

"Looks to be as good time as any to try you out", Mary said, as she examined the nearest one. "Now, how does one turn you on......".

After some pushing and prodding, she found a small panel that opened, revealing a flip switch marked on and off. She flipped it to on, and some whirring noises began to emanate from the robot. Something was happening, but Mary wasn't sure what. She then went to the window and peered out around the curtains, to see what was currently happening.....

In From The Fog: A Fallout Far Harbor Roleplay

Steve Miller - Vertibird Crash Site

Steve opened his mouth, releasing his foe and staggering back crying out from the pain from the two fiery wounds that had coursed through his body with the shouts from his foe and the loud noises. He crumpled to the ground and rolled up into a ball, hoping the pain would go away, but it only lessened, leaving behind a dull throbbing that made it hard to breathe. He felt something wet on both his back and his chest...he knew that something was very wrong. In front of him he heard a strange click click, just like the two he had felt before the pain began..so he opened his eyes to see what it was. A few feet away, he saw a human he knew, though for some reason he could not remember their name, sitting and leaning on one arm, blood welling out of his forearm, and with the other pointing an object at him that he recognized but could not name for some reason. His face was a mixture of great pain, and a feral look of vengeful glee. It was clear now that the end had come. Emotions flooded through Steve, pain, anger, loss, sadness because he had failed an a obligation that was important to him....as well as a question, a simple question, but one he could not put into words.

All he could do was wait for the final blow to come.

But it didn't.

After a pause that seemed to go on forever, his foe's expression changed. While the pain remained, the glee ebbed away, replaced by sadness and regret. His arm lowered, and the device fell into his lap, and he looked at him and sighed.

"I'm sorry, little guy", he said. He then struggled to get up. But as he began to do so, something moving too fast for him to see hit the arm the man was leaning on with a gout of blood and he fell back down. "For fuck's sake!", he exclaimed, then collapsed, no longer moving except for his breathing.

His foe was helpless, but Steve didn't want to fight any more. His desire to seek revenge for what had been taken from him unjustly had ebbed out of him just like his life was, leaving only the terrible sense of loss and need to grieve....and a unaskable question he knew now would never be answered. He knew the end was near, and that he wanted that end to be by Her side. A new determination filled him, and he forced himself onto his hands and knees and began to crawl. Slowly and painfully, Steve advanced hand over hand towards his goal, ignoring the noise and yelling as the other humans fought, focused on Her crumpled form, the one person who had meant everything to him. Another human, a female, was sitting by Her. He recognized her as well, though like the other, he could not remember her name. She was grieving for Her, just like he was. That also made Steve glad, and reassured him as well....if others grieved for Her, then his love for Her couldn't have been misplaced. Finally, he reached Her side, the other human moving aside slightly without even noticing it as he snuggled up to Her body, which was still warm. As he felt her warmth, the pain finally ebbed away, and peace settled over him, and scattered memories of happier times flitted through his head as he drifted off to sleep.

As the darkness of sleep enveloped him, one final thought occurred to him....now, at the end, merely idle curiosity...the question that had been on the tip of his tongue ever since She had been taken away from him right before his eyes.

* After a long period of darkness *

"Shit," a voice said, distant as if from the bottom of a well, "He needs bandages. Bring me my bag!"

In the background was some distant movement, then something hit the ground nearby and the voice spoke again.

"I can't have ya die, too", she said, "Please."

A sharp pain shot up his left arm as something was pressed hard against it, enough pain to wake him up.

"Why?", Steve shouted in anguish, "Why did we have to die? What did we do wrong?"

He then opened his eyes to see Corrine hunched above him, deep concern written on her face. He began to cry.

He had finally understood what the question was.

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

Mary Hawthorne - Her house

“Teach me", Shelby said, "Tell me what type of shit I have to do to learn. I still am in disbelief, but I can't unsee what I witnessed so I know it's real.”

"Are you sure?", Mary asked sternly, "I'm concerned that you don't realize what the price of such knowledge is." After a pause, Mary continued. "For one thing, you can forget normal relationships. Everyone and everything you care about will turn to dust while you live on. Fame, renown, wealth...learning what I know will bring you none of those things. You will learn and see the most amazing things....but one terrible day you will realize that the world of men has passed you by, and that you are truly alone....and you won't care anymore. And if that wasn't enough....you'll know about those Outside...who, if they could, would gobble up this whole world and every soul in it like you would a Fancy Lad Snack cake."

She settled back in the tub and continued.

"Ignorance is bliss, Shelby", Mary said, "Those Outside cannot enter our world unless someone lets them in. People have tried to let them in, but so far they have failed....because there are those who will gladly kill someone like me to make sure that door is never unlocked. Witchfinders, Hunters, whatever you call them...you'll always be looking over your shoulder for them, iff'n you aim to live, that is."

Before Shelby could answer, the faint report of a pistol came from out in the street. Mary climbed out of the tub and reached around Shelby to grab the bathrobe on a hook on the door behind her.

"Think on it and come back to me after dark and we'll discuss it some more", Mary said as she put on the bathrobe and tied the belt, then walked out into the hallway and into one of the front bedrooms.

"What the hell is going on now?", she muttered to herself as she approached the window. Just before she got there, more shots were fired and a bullet flew through the window and hit the wall with a thud. Mary looked out to see the young woman who lived next door frantically running down the street, with a familiar looking Deathclaw hot on her heels.

"Damnation! A Deathclaw!", Mary exclaimed as she whirled about and sprinted towards her bedroom, where her double barrel 12 gauge leaned in the corner. She opened a drawer on her dresser, rummaged through the contents until she found a worn, half full box of shotgun shells marked "12g Sabot Slugs - For Police and Military Use Only" and dumped the box's contents into her pocket, then snatched up the shotgun and broke it open, jamming two of the shells inside, then closing the breech and running for the stairs. As she ran out the front door, the Deathclaw had cornered the foolish child between the houses and was closing for the kill. Mary raised the shotgun and fired, first one barrel and then the other, then as smartly as she could broke open the shotgun, ejecting the spent shells and loading two more, hoping if that didn't do the trick, others were on the way to help out.

In From The Fog: A Fallout Far Harbor Roleplay

Steve Miller - Crashed Vertibird

Moving as quietly as he could, Steve maneuvered around the crash site until he found a rock to get behind that gave him a good view of the downed aircraft and the Cultist leader....who James had assigned him as his first target. He dropped and got down prone behind the rock, then took careful aim, and waited, thinking of the discussion they had had moments ago.

The hurt look in Corrine's eyes when he had backed James over her bothered him, but he didn't see any other way around it. Steve understood she was reluctant to fight what she considered her own people, but he felt that was clouding her judgement...from what he had been told while in town the Cultists had made it clear that it was 'their way or the highway', as Dad had liked to put it. Either join their little group, or leave...or be driven into the sea. If they had given up, then the choices would have narrowed to join or die...and even if they pretended to go along, the odds of being able to get free in time to help the town were basically nonexistent. Nope, when they chose to proceed after that "angler" nearly killed the Enclaver, they had committed to fighting if need be to get that equipment....and as it turned out if they hadn't, they'd have been doomed and not even know it until it was too late. With the suits in that Vertibird....there would have been no stopping them when they came to town. As bad as the odds were now, even if they did prevail here, it was better than no chance at all. All he could hope was that Corrine eventually saw they had made the right call.

The Enclaver took his shot, and the battle began. The Cultist leader jerked and whirled to her right in response to the thwack of a bullet hitting home, Steve adjusted his aim slightly and fired, the round punching a hole in the leader's mask just above the right eye and gore exploded out of the back of her head as the bullet passed through, and the cultist immediately began to crumple to the ground.

One down, three to go, Steve thought grimly as he worked the slide of his rifle and looked to the Vertibird for his next target, trusting Castner to have dealt with the pet of hers. The Enclaver called out some nonsense being from the Government, predictably the Cultists replied with angry shouts of "Murderer!" and began to return fire. Seeing Corrine engaging one of the cultists with her spear, he looked for a target that would not place her in his line of fire. Settling on a Cultist that popped out of the Vertibird wielding a odd looking rifle, which he fired in the direction of the Enclaver. Steve lined up a shot, and just as he pulled the trigger, he heard a angry sounding growl from atop the rock he was using for cover, then a weight fell suddenly on his back. Too distracted to note if he scored a hit or not, Steve rolled to his right onto his back, throwing whatever it was off. He then looked over to see his assailant, it was that creature the now dead leader had as a pet...Castner had failed to kill it, it would seem...and it looked quite pissed. It scrambled to it's feet and lunged at him with a snarl. He tried to club it with the butt of his rifle, but the infernal creature dodged his desperate attempt and sank it's teeth into his left arm, shaking it's head for good measure. Steve bared his teeth in anger and pain, and instinctively let go of the rifle with his free right hand, and drew his revolver, pushing the muzzle of the revolver forward until it was placed directly against the creature's chest.

"Fuck you!", Steve hissed as he pulled the trigger. "FUCK. YOU!" he repeated angrily as he released the trigger of the revolver and promptly pulled it again, firing a second shot into the creature. If the first two shots didn't do the job, he had four more.......

War Never Changes

Simon Barnaky - The Gourmand

After finishing his sentence, Barnaky, or to be more precise, the robot he was speaking through, suddenly froze in place. After about a minute, Marin leaned towards the robot.

"My Lord", Martin whispered, "is something wrong?"

Another minute then passed, then the robot finally began to move again, looking over at Martin.

"Kimball is dead", Barnaky whispered back so only Martin could hear. "Lucius lured him into a ambush outside Phoenix and wiped out his whole force. The recovery group at Monthan-Davis got a drone out there and confirmed a large NCR force was massacred. Also, Graham has gassed the NCR again...this time they hit one of their main camps" Barnaky then grabbed a notepad and wrote out a note, then handed it over to Martin. "Give this to Titus...I'm sure Lucius would want him to be the one to make the announcement."

Martin unfolded the note and read it:

NCR incursion force ambushed outside Phoenix by Legions of Caesar Lucius and Legatus Aurelius. All killed or captured. Kimball is dead. Relay news to convention.
PS - this message was received by courier at one of our listening posts in Arizona about three hours ago. the message bore the seal of Legate Aurelius and has been confirmed authentic. Drone reconnaissance has confirmed a battle took place approximately fifteen miles southwest of Phoenix this morning, with heavy losses to NCR armored forces and Legion forces bearing the standards of Legio I Arizona were observed in possession of the field. In addition, a second cloud attack was launched on NCR Camp Delta around the same time, surviving NCR forces there have withdrawn Westward. -Barnaky

Martin folded the note back up, got up and approached Titus.

"Queastor", Martin said quietly as he handed the note to the younger man, "The Lord-Paladin sends his regards, and requested that I bring you this message. It is a message received from your front lines in Arizona. He feels the honor of delivering it to the convention is, by right, yours."

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

Mary Hawthorne - Museum of Witchcraft basement

In response to her call out to Shelby, he heard some rapid movement, as if she intended to try to flee, but after a moment Shelby stepped out into view, flipping her hair over her shoulders and trying to put a brave face fowards....though the fear, and something else, in her eyes, told the tale.

“That was… interesting ,” Shelby said, her voice was still riddled with nervousness, she placed her hands in her hips and tried to keep her cocky facade, “So...you mind telling what the fuck just happened here?”

"Don't play the innocent with me...", Mary said with a predatory smile as she held up the jar for Shelby to see, "...You know what you saw. The questions you should be asking are why I did it, and by what means did I achieve it."

"So tell me, was it everything you thought it would be?", Mary chuckled and continued, "Somehow I doubt it. No one who plays this game for Fame and glory will last for very long....certainly not the six hundered years I have been walking this Earth. In my world, power comes from knowledge, and bargains in which unspeakable acts...like what you watched him do to me...and even immortal souls are used as currency."

Mary picked up her things and stuffed them into her bag, then walked around the astonished Shelby and made for the cellar door without undue haste. She paused at the foot of the stairs and looked back at Shelby.

"I'm going home and taking a good hot bath", Mary announced, "I'm absolutely filthy." She then pointed at the ceiling and continued. "feel free to stop by once my houseguest leaves....poor lad has no idea what I am and I intend to keep it that way. I won't be coming back here again, so feel free to take what you want. Whatever you do, though...don't go upstairs, a Deathclaw has it's nest up there." she then climbed up and opened the door, moonlight flooding down from the open doorway, Mary's head silhouetted in the frame.

"One last thing", Mary whispered, though Shelby could hear it clearly, "I'm going to trust you with my little secret...consider it a test of character." Mary then placed the key to the cellar on the top step and closed the cellar door behind her.

Mary's Bathroom - Dawn

Mary sat in the tub, sipping bourbon from a waterglass and glowering at the mason jar full of ashes sitting on the stool by the window. First thing she'd done when she got home was brush her teeth with bourbon, which led to drinking some....it had been a long night. She sat, and drank, and fumed quietly as she reflected on the night's events. She'd done things that were arguably far more perverse than what the cultist...she had never even bothered to learn his name...had bargained out of her for what he knew, but submitting to the indignites he had heaped on her were still irksome..espcicially because others had witnessed most, if not all of it. The Museum was useless to her now, that was clear, she now had to find a new place to conduct business that she could not safely do in town. But the real thing on her mind was Shelby. Letting her live after what she had seen was a considerable risk, but Mary felt it was a risk worth taking. Her instincts told her that the young woman might have a talent for her craft, and it would be nice to have an apprentice again. Not to mention those fools at the Quarry, and what they planned to do. She had some research to do, and she would need help with it....and Shelby could at least read, which was good for this new Dark Age she had found herself in. She had too much potential to kill out of hand...if she talked they wouldn't believe her anyway. At least not quickly enough for her to evade capture easily enough.

Faintly, she heard the noise of an aircraft through the open window, steadily getting louder. Eventually, it came over the town, the noise rising to a roar which persisted for several minutes before beginning to slowly fade away. While this was happening, Mary heard a commotion in the hallway as Rick stormed out of his room and ran downstairs, the from door slamming shut a few seconds later. The flying machine seemed to upset him for some reason, and caused her to think about some of the things he had said at lunch....he had obviously been hiding something from her. The only people she knew of with aircraft in the Commonwealth were the Minutemen and the Brotherhood, both of whom fancied themselves the authorities here...was he a fugitive, perhaps? Might be useful to know.

In From The Fog: A Fallout Far Harbor Roleplay

Steve Miller - near the crashed Vertibird

"Who do ya think yer talkin' to?", Corrine hissed at the Enclaver, "Because I ain't actually shot a gun before and last I checked, ammo was limited." She looked between Castner, James, then Steve and then continued. "They think the Brotherhood were scoutin' the place out, and are lookin' for survivors to take back to their base. The Nucleus. That means they've done something with...or, to...the Children of Atom." Corrine shook her head, sadly. "We can pose as Brotherhood, all of us, and just let ourselves be captured, get into the heart of the cult and find some way to...you know...make it explode. It's a pre-war nuclear sub. We'd save the town, at least." She swallowed. "Not sure we stay alive for many more hours, otherwise, considering our condition and their numbers."

After considering what both the Enclaver and Corrine had to say, James finally spoke.

“For once I agree with the Enclaver", he said. "We need those supplies. We could attempt to infiltrate the nucleus another night, but they’re going to blow up what we need right now if we don’t do something.”, he whispered urgently. He turned to the Enclaver. “I don’t think we need to you to do that James. We have enough of an advantage by catching them from surprise at multiple angles.”, he looked to Corrine next, though he addressed all of them. “I think we can take them if we have Steve and I fire our powerful guns against the leader and the gulper. Those two can either rally the troops, or sniff us out with their… enhanced abilities.”

"I agree with James", Steve whispered, as he flipped the switch to turn the tracker off before the cultists heard it and put it in his pocket. "Even if we bring back the supplies, and drive them back tomorrow, there are no guarantees we'll survive the attack after that. Or the next one. Or the one after that. But if we don't succeed here and now, they will roll over the town for certain tomorrow. At some point we just may have to take a hit for the Team as you suggest, Corrine, but the town has no future beyond tomorrow if we don't get the equipment on that Vertibird back to town. Also, I thought I heard it said back in town that at least some of these people are locals...in which case they would know who you are." He shook his head. "Even being caught at night out here with members of the Brotherhood might be enough to make them decide that you've chosen a side....to them the wrong side....and who knows what would happen to you then. It's just too big a risk to take."

Steve then looked over at Castner. "there is something about this "Nucleus" that you should know..", Steve continued, "...from the markings on some of Corrine's tools I think the sub docked there is a missile sub, which means it might still have nukes on onboard....the big city killing kind. Something will eventually have to be done about that." He then added. "If we're gonna fight them here, you're best suited to lead us. What do you need us to do?"

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

Mary Hawthorne - Museum of Witchcraft basement - early morning

The Cultist groaned as he yielded to Mary's skilled ministrations and finished. After a moment, his grip on Mary's shoulders relaxed and she looked up at him.

"Satisfied?", she asked.

"I'm done", he said, nodding reluctantly. He then winced in pain as his stomach began to growl again. "You held up your end of the bargain, I'll grant you that. Now get it over with."

Mary gently pushed him back, off the wet area of the floor where they were onto a dry section, and then got up off her knees and stood facing him, and recited the reverse of the spell she had used earlier.

OGTHROD AI'F
GEB'L—EE'H
YOG-SOTHOTH
'NGAH'NG AI'Y
ZHRO

As she recited the spell, the cultist froze, his features contorted with fear and pain, as a terrible change came over him and he literally crumbled into dust where he stood. By the time she uttered the final word of the incantation, a pile of ashes sat where a man had stood moments before. Mary sighed, then moved around the pile, picking up a battered old dustpan and broken broom sitting in a corner, along with the mason jar, and returned to the pile and knelt next to it, and carefully began to sweep it up, emptying it into the jar. Once satisfied she had collected everything, she picked up the lid and began to screw it into place.

"You can come out now, Shelby", Mary said as casually as if she were ordering dinner, screwing the lid down securely and patting the lit for emphasis, "I know you've been watching."

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

Mary Hawthorne - S&W Weaponry - the previous evening

“The essential Saltes of Animals may be so prepared and preserved, that an ingenious Man may have the whole Ark of Noah in his own Studie, and raise the fine Shape of an Animal out of its Ashes at his Pleasure; and by the lyke Method from the essential Saltes of humane Dust, a Philosopher may, without any criminal Necromancy, call up the Shape of any dead Ancestour from the Dust whereinto his Bodie has been incinerated.” -BORELLUS

“Makes sense I guess", Shelby said, tapping her lips in thought, "As far as whom Frieda is, I’m not sure, especially if she was involved with the mutie incident. I don’t like muties so I split and came back here. Maybe if I ever come across one of those spell books, can’t remember what exactly they were called, but maybe if I took my time and really studied I can find out if the stuff works.” Shelby looked over at Eliza sleeping, the sun had long since gone away for the night, she took a deep breath. “I can walk you home if you’d like? It’s been one hell of a day, I need some fresh air.”

"Sure", Mary replied, "That would be nice of you."

Later

"Thanks for helping me with the saddle", Mary said as she closed the pen, then reached out for the saddle, which Shelby was holding up with both hands. "I'll haul it inside....Good night!"

Shelby handed the saddle to Mary and after saying her goodbyes turned to walk away in the direction of the Diner. Mary walked up onto the porch and awkwardly opened the front door, and carried the saddle inside, putting it and the bridle on the sawhorse in the middle of the largely empty living room. She noticed the robots were no longer connected to the device Rick had attached to them to power them up.

"Hmmmm", she said quietly to herself as she scrutinized the dormant robots, "I need to ask Rick how to make you mind me before I wake you up, I think."

She went up to the second floor, and noticed the door to one of the spare bedrooms....the only one with furniture besides hers...was closed. No light could be seen from within, so she quietly opened the door a crack and peered inside, the moonlight revealing Rick's sleeping form on the bed. Just as quietly, she closed the door and went to her bedroom. Lighting a lamp, she then rummaged through her bags, producing several items including Wastelander garb with trousers, a pair of handcuffs, a stun baton, a large mason jar, a old military style flashlight, and ancient leatherbound notebook, and a sheathed machete. She then stripped nude, pulling her panties down and kicking them onto the floor, and then put on the Wastelander outfit. The machete was strapped to her back, the rest of the items went into a haversack. She then left and quietly descended the stairs. After retrieving some wrapped packages and a bottle of purified water from the refrigerator, she went into the living room and opened the front door a crack, peering out cautiously to make sure the coast was clear. Finding it was, she slid out and closed and lacked the door behind her. Staying in the darkness, she moved in the direction of the road leading past the Diner and out of town, steering wide of the Diner. Beyond it was the wall she had noticed the..what Shelby had called a mutie?...and some others had been building. It wasn't terribly far from where the old wooden palisades that protected Salem from the Indians so long ago had been raised.

"The more things change", she thought wryly, "the more they stay the same."

But it was still a problem for her purposes, prudent a measure as it was. Beyond the open area where the gate would doubtlessly go, she saw at least two people standing around talking. Sentries by the look of it. She could also hear the ticking of one of those infernal devices Barney called a turret.

"Damnation!", Mary thought, "I can't have them see me dragging a corpse into the Museum! Why on earth did they feel the need to push the walls out so far, anyway? I've got to get by them."

She followed the curse of the wall from the inside. It abruptly terminated in the ocean, no doubt where the deep water began. Mary shrugged, then wriggled out of her clothes and stuffed them in the bag, then slowly waded into the water, taking care to keep the bag above water. The mixture of the coldness of the water on her skin with the warmth of the residual radiation was a novel sensation, in a perverse way, she actually found it pleasurable. Careful not to make any undue noise, she slowly waded parallel to the shoreline, shoulder deep in the water, balancing the bag on her head. Eventually, she passed out of the line of sight of the sentries, who largely weren't looking out to sea anyway, and quietly made her way to shore. She decided at this point there was no reason to dress again, though she reequipped the machete and began moving towards the museum but was forced into cover when a seedy looking merc and a ghoul emerged onto the road from the direction of the Crater, then began walking nonchalantly back towards Salem. Once they were a safe distance past, she moved to see where they went and saw that they strolled past the sentries, who took little notice of them, and into town.

Now that she was finally alone, she went to the road opposite the Museum and approached the site where the cultists had tried to ambush Rick and her. Someone had looted the bodies, and a third one had been hung up by his heels from a tree nearby, but the bodies were otherwise undisturbed. She threw the cultist she had killed over her shoulder, and carried the corpse around the far side of the Museum, unlocking and quietly opening the door to the storm cellar and carrying the body inside, then reaching up to quietly close it behind her.


Museum of Witchcraft basement - not long after

She would have preferred to do this upstairs, so she could use the mock cell for the exhibits, but there was a chance someone might hear....but this spot would do well enough. Mary carefully poured the ashes in the mason jar on the floor next to the old steam register, careful not to scatter them, then slowly moved back, placing the empty jar on a old bookshelf beyond the line of candles she relied on for light, then turned to face the pile of ashes on the floor and reflected on what she was about to do. In her youth she had, like nearly everyone else in Salem Town, had feared and shunned Joseph Curwen once he reappeared in Salem in 1687, having run off to be a sailor nine years before....put off by his strange and reclusive behavior and obsession with strange books...it was still a wonder he hadn't been caught up in the Trials five years later. When she met him again, nearly eighty years later in Providence, she learned just how right people had been to fear him. Flush with his success, after so many years, at finding the right method, he had been desperate for some one to tell of his triumph, and as Mary was willing to be an appreciative listener as well as an accommodating bed partner, over the course of a year she learned much from him. He and his compatriots were long dead, overconfidence on Curwen's part gaining the deadly attention of hunters, so far as she knew she was the only soul still living familiar with their methods. While she had known those methods, never in the centuries since had she felt need to use them, until now.

She picked up the stun baton and handcuffs from on top of the open notebook on the stool next to her, took a deep breath, and began the incantation.

Y'AI 'NG'NGAH,
YOG-SOTHOTH
H'EE—L'GEB
F'AI THRODOG
UAAAH

No sooner did she utter the words than a cold wind blow through the stagnant and dusty air of the basement, and a foul smelling, greenish smoke began to billow up out of the pile of ashes. Mary had forgotten the smell....it was probably fortunate that she had not bothered to put her clothes back on. Her nakedness might prove of advantage when it came to what she was calling up anyhow. She quickly moved forward, and as a groan emerged from the smoke, followed by coughing, she thrust the stun baton into the heat of the smoke cloud and triggered the charge, yielding resistance and a pained yelp showing she had aimed true. The smoke dissipated to reveal a nude and hairless man, curled up into a fetal position and still twitching from the electric shock from the baton. Knowing she had only a few seconds to act, she cast the baton aside, out of her victim's reach, and overcame his feeble attempts at resistance to affix the handcuffs and cuff him securely to the old cast-iron register, then stepped back out of his reach as he gathered enough of his wits to try to kick her, a terrible look of triumph on her face.

The man strained hard, but in vain at the cuffs holding him securely to the cast-iron fixture, then looked around the room desperately, then finally focused on his captor, his expression a mixture of hatred and fear as he recalled the last thing he had seen before the darkness he just emerged from enveloped him, the woman before him shooting him in the head.

"You killed me, you bitch", he hissed, pulling in vain against his binds again, "I couldn't have survived what you did to me."

"You didn't", Mary replied evenly, "I would have demonstrated my true ability when we last met, but virgin eyes and ears forced me to use more....mundane methods to deal with you. So I had to bring you back."

"You're no common Wastelander...that much is clear", the man said grudgingly, "So let's cut the bullshit...what do you want?"

She walked up and knelt next to him, the calf of her right leg up against his left, and smiled in a predatory manner.

"I have some questions", she said simply, "and I'll do whatever I need to do to have answers to them." She then reached down and took his member in her right hand and gently stroked it, the cultists eyes blazing with hatred as he responded to her touch in spite of himself. "What lengths I need go to is entirely up to you."

"Fuck you", he replied, spitting full into Mary's face, "You'll kill me anyway."

"Of course I will", Mary replied as she calmly scooped up the glob of spittle from her face and idly licked it from her fingers, all the while continuing what she was doing with her right hand, as the spell wouldn't work if she let his actions distract her and stop talking too soon, "It's not personal...I certainly cannot let you go after what you've seen, only a fool would do that. I can promise, however, that if you cooperate, I'll make it quick...and see to it you're not brought back again by me or anyone else. I'll even do what you want as a final request, as long as what you would have me do won't injure me...much." She then added "no kissing though."

The man grew oddly calm, and finally listened as she continued to speak, the charm spell taking hold without him even realizing it. Finally, he opened his mouth to speak, but then a horrid growl emanated from his stomach, causing him to wince with pain.

"Hungry, so hungry!", he said pleadingly, "For fucks sake, it hurts!"

"Oh yes", Mary replied, "I almost forgot about the hunger."

She let go of the cultist and rose to her feet, and retreated to the next room where her bag was. She extracted the wrapped packages, gathered them up and went back to the man, crouching beside him again in the same fashion she did before, and let the packages fall to the floor next to him. She picked up one and opened it, revealing cuts of venison, or "Rad-Stag" meat as they called it now.

"Here", she said as she leaned forward, drawing close to the man as she help up a strip of raw venison within reach of his head so he could easily reach it, and in a gentle manner fed the contents of the package to him one strip at a time. Once the package was empty, he leaned his head back against the wall and sighed with relief.

"This isn't going to stop..", he finally said, his voice heavy with defeat, "...is it?"

"No", Mary replied, not without compassion, "not in the amount of time left to you." She glanced down at the remaining packages of meat and back to him. "I warrant I have enough here to last a couple hours before I have to go find more. And what you'll feel awaiting my return will likely be more painful than anything I could do on purpose."

"Fuck it", he said bleakly, "You win. I'll take your 'deal'. I'll tell you what you want to know as long as you put me down fast and let me stay down...forever."

"Very well", she replied, "and your last request?"

"Draw a little closer", he said, parodying some old song "and let me whisper in your ear". Mary humored him by drawing so close she was now pressed against him and let him whisper into her ear what he wanted to do to her, her eyes widening a bit as he outlined his proposal....it was shockingly perverse but she had to admit that it was somewhat original, not to mention something she hadn't done before. For the most part. And in that combination. Or even with the same man. It was not what she had expected, but the charm was subtle and the exact results couldn't be predicted...and in any case she had done things that were far worse to get what she wanted. Once he was finished whispering, she moved her head back slightly and looked him in the eye. "believe me....I wouldn't want to kiss you after that", he added with a resigned chuckle.

"You're a sick bastard, you are", Mary replied with a shrug and a small laugh, "but my word is my bond. It's something I can do without undue injury, so I will do as you ask."

"Before I start with my questions", she continued, "Would you like something to drink?"