Tsar Gatto

Fallout: Under Silver Skies [Closed]

“You and your little friend are on the chopping block just as much as I am if I know who just walked in here” whispered the man she assumed was Redding “And you too, Vault-Girl. The second you see me so much as twitch, we three're getting cozy behind this bar.”

Annelise’s stomach did a little flip as she tried to prepare herself for what was to come, of course he was right. Barley a few seconds passed before Redding screamed “Fuck you!” and started to unload on the extremely numerous group of raiders.

That was when the shooting really started. Annelise gripped the wood of the bar with both hands before she flung herself over the counter-top and came crashing down harder than she had intended, her body sending her waves of pain in protest as she narrowly avoided a hail of bullets that smashed into the wall and bar causing shards of glass and wood to go flying. She felt her temper rising as she once more felt a sense of profound wrongness, a sense of extreme loss and she couldn’t help but blame on people just like these raiders. Already they’d killed several of the people who had just been minding their own business having a few drinks – gunned them down like animals, they’d denied her even a moments rest and now she would have to fight for her very survival once more.

With her face twisted in a snarl Annelise levelled her AEP7 and using the bar for cover she began to fire as rapidly as she could sending precise fiery crimson beams streaming towards the raiders. She hit several of them seriously wounding at least three of them, one of them losing an arm adding his gurgling screams to the mess of shots and screams that filled the air. Annelise emptied the clip before she ducked back down, moments later buckshot screaming past into the wall where her head had been moments later. There was a sickening sound that Annelise was becoming all too familiar with as the bartender took a round to the skull and his limp body collapsed. This time she simply grimaced as chunks of brain and skull once more lightly showered her.

"How's everyone holding up?" shouted Redding over the ear-splitting din as he too reloaded his weapon. Annelise glared at him as the cheerful tune of Butcher Pete started up with the cackles of bitch-face who was apparently thoroughly enjoying herself.

“Just fucking peachy!” she yelled back still glaring at him as she picked a chunk of grey matter from her shoulder. Moments later the older man started to ask “How many of them-“ but was interrupted as there was a clatter and a grenade bounced onto the bar and landed directly beside the three of them. In less than a second he snatched the thing up and hurled it back the way it’d come.

“We stay squatting back here any longer and we’re -done- for” he yelled as Annelise stared at him mouth slightly agape at how casually he’d snatched up a live grenade and saved all of them. There was an ear shattering explosion as it went off and Annelise’s ears started ringing. She stumbled slightly before she pulled herself back upright and blurted to herself more than anyone “This is fucking crazy...” Another cluster of rounds smashed into the wall above them showering them in further debris and she gripped her pistol tighter and inquired “Anyone know of a backdoor to this place?” It was hardly a plan but nothing else came to mind, her initial burst of aggression had subsided with the grenade and now the reality of the situation was really starting to set in.

Fallout: Under Silver Skies [Closed]

I'm awake and ready to go.

Will get to work on a post with mucho haste!

Fallout: Under Silver Skies [Closed]

Belongings: Currency: 300 septims, 50 on his person

@Leidenschaft

Excellent.

Looks like things about to get reaaal interesting in the Desperado.

Fallout: Under Silver Skies [Closed]

Annelise followed the grain in the bar with her eyes, pausing to examine each stain or knife-hole that adorned the old wood. She snapped her focus up as the barman stood in front of her and set a beer down in front of her and with an appraising gaze he offered “Looks like you could use one. That’s from Mr Schmidt there”.

The barman gestured down the bar towards the aforementioned ‘Mr Schmidt’ but Annelise simply continued to gaze down for a few moments longer before she asked “Don’t have something a little bit stronger do you?” She managed to lift her head and smirk at the barman before she rounded her head to look for whoever it was that he’d gestured at. As she did though a trio of gunshots rang out at the entrance to the bar cutting through the atmosphere in the Desperado like a hot knife through butter grabbing the attention of the occupants. Moments later the doors burst open as the evident perpetrators stormed into the place, everything unfolding in mere moments.

The most unhinged looking woman Annelise had ever seen lead the way flanked by a pair of equally unhinged looking men. The woman proceeded to snatch up the nearest pool cue and smash it over the skull of the closest patron, sending him crashing into a table before he lay on the ground clutching at his now bleeding head as he huddled and whimpered. Only the radio interrupted the brief moment of silence before she spat “Listen up, cocksuckers! Which one of you cumstains is Redding Schmidt?!”

Annelise let her gaze flick to the bar for a second, her eyes going to the man in the scuffed leather jacket sat just beside the older man she’d noted earlier. She’d been about to look at him moments before everything had gone from normal to fucked up in less than ten seconds and somehow she knew it was him they were looking for. She clenched her jaw as she gazed back at the crazy woman brandishing the pool cue and her ‘associates’. It was clear that they were raiders, even to Annelise – her last encounter with them was fresher in her mind than the bruises on her face were, she found her heart again pounding as her hand slowly moved to rest on the handle of her laser pistol. She stared from the scarred freak brandishing the submachine gun to the colossal beast nursing the almost comically small looking shotgun in his meaty arms. They were flanked by countless more, some still filing in as others looked to be waiting just outside as they watched with shit-eating grins on their scabby faces.

She hadn’t been in the wasteland long, but already she was getting the feeling that nothing ended in a logical straight forwards manner out in this twisted expanse. It crossed her mind that she could point out the man she believed they were looking for, but it wasn’t worth entertaining the thought of what they would do to him, or to her for that matter – no, that would be beyond stupid. This was going to get real deadly real fast. She continued to glare at bitch-face as Annelise affectionately named the crazy woman-leader as she tensed and prepared to fling herself over the bar. Her body ached and her muscles practically screamed in protest at the thought but she counted herself lucky that she at least had that. She wouldn’t want to be one of the poor bastards sat at a table in the open once the bullets started to fly judging by the firepower these sickos were packing.

Fallout: Under Silver Skies [Closed]

One foot in front of the other, that was all she had to do.

Well, one foot in front of the other, keep both eyes peeled for anything hostile, watch for anything dangerous underfoot, stay hydrated and fed along with lugging the extremely heavy pack she now had fixed to her back – those were the things she had to do. Annelise didn’t know how long she’d been walking for before she finally spotted her destination, the silhouette of New Reno looming at the edge of her vision.

The sun had been bearing down on her for days and she felt thoroughly exhausted, both physically and mentally. The last time she’d stopped Annelise had realised that she was now entirely out of food from the vault, she’d eyed up some of wasteland food and settled upon some irradiated junk food from before the bombs had fallen. The thought of how old they were had almost made her nauseous, but then the taste of them definitely did – but it was a far lesser evil than the crusty chunks of god-knows-what meat or the poor shrivelled little squirrel with a skewer up its ass. Or at least that was what she told herself.

As she approached she saw a group of people with some pack brahmin heading directly towards her, most of them carrying weapons and covered in generous quantities of makeshift armour. She froze and gripped her laser pistol with her left hand, her heart already pounding as she considered what to do. What if these people were as bad as the raiders she’d already run into, what if everyone in the city was heading to was as well? She entertained her paranoia for a few moments before she pushed it away. She was certain that everyone out here wouldn’t be a murderer, she knew for a fact that the settlements were generally much safer than the huge stretches of lawless wasteland she’d been making her way through, or at least that was what the others believed. Either way she’d come too far to simply freak out and give up, so she continued to grip the pistol as she marched forwards with her eyes flicking from person to person as she got closer her heart pounding the whole while.

The lead wastelander was a woman, she had short shaggy muddy coloured hair and a stern gaze. As Annelise looked at her she stared right back at her. It took her only a few seconds to realise that the group were being as cautious as she was, worried looks and hands gripping weapons as she approached.

“Greetings friend” growled the woman with a slight hand gesture as Annelise got within speaking range. Her heart skipped a beat but Annelise quickly found her tongue.

“Hey” she croaked somewhat meekly, her voice dry and cracked from the lack of water.

“Vault dweller is it?” the woman asked gesturing to her apparel and pip-boy as the caravan guards came to a stop just behind her. Annelise nodded slowly as she eyed the array of goods and supplies that was loaded onto the odd two-headed creature.

“You’re a trader?” asked Annelise returning the gesture.

“Yup, looking to do business sweetie?” she retorted already heading towards her merchandise. Annelise hesitated for a moment before she nodded and started to remove her own pack somewhat cautiously. She was weary but spent about twenty minutes bartering back and forth with the woman, exchanging the chems, weapons and other possessions of the raiders for some of her various things. Annelise soon got carried away looking through the junk that the woman had, specifically the components and gizmos. Annelise walked away with various supplies for a few days and more importantly the things she needed to fix her rifle. Unfortunately though with her lack of experience and knowledge she’d been ripped off considerably, not that she knew but as she trudged into New Reno the trader watched her go before shaking her head and continuing on her way.

New Reno itself was... impressive to say the least. A mix-match of salvaged buildings and shanties with numerous huge neon signs that dotted what seemed to be the main centre of the settlement. Annelise wandered in trying not to gawk like she’d never seen anything even remotely like this, only half succeeding. Numerous individuals moved around the streets, some looked like farmers, others their occupation less easy to divine. Everyone though seemed grimy or dirty, or lacking that generally had an edge of hardness about them that she found rather unsettling. Some of the men she passed looked almost like raiders themselves – granted well dressed raiders but the same signs were definitely there. She gave them a wide berth as she looked for what the trader had described as fine establishments to ‘wet her whistle’ (the trader had been reluctant to part with her own water seeing as how they had a long journey ahead of them and Annelise could just get some in New Reno). The trader pointed her to a place called the Desperado with a casual warning to keep away from the more unsavoury types. As she approached she frowned, it wasn’t exactly the kind of place she had been looking for, but then she had no idea where else to head. At least she knew she could get a drink and sit down, rest and recuperate. Hell, she even could do with a drink after everything she’d been through – at least she knew the alcohol would be sterile.

As she walked up to the door a rather corpulent man practically collapsed out of the doorway, stumbling slightly as he held himself on the railings just outside. He turned a beady eye towards Annelise and mumbled something vulgar whilst grinning and trying to wink, the stench of booze wafting towards her. She shuddered inwardly as she quickly moved past him, already wondering if she was going to regret her decision. She moved inside and took a few moments to take in the room. The air was a little smoky and it was a little more occupied than she’d have thought but otherwise it wasn’t quite the hive of scum and villainy she’d expected. With her face down she made her way to the bar before she stood awkwardly at one end trying to avoid any attention. The bartender was in conversation with an older looking man, one of the several sat at the bar drinking. She removed her now considerably lighter pack before she sat on one of the stools, almost sighing as she took the weight off her feet. She still felt bruised in numerous places and her legs too now were almost agony, but she’d actually made it. Despite the hopelessness that threatened to overwhelm her at any moment she actually felt like she’d accomplished at least something and as she waited at the bar she couldn’t help but smirk to herself as she started to eye the bottles behind the counter uncertainly. She absently rubbed her neck which still ached too and couldn’t help but remember the raider who’d done it. She remembered his grotty body pressed down on top of her as he’d tried to first subdue her and then tried to kill her before she’d managed to kill him. She shuddered snapped her gaze up from the point on the bar she’d been staring at. She decided that she definitely wanted a strong drink, her smirk gone and her mood plummeting as she finally realised she had to figure out what in the world she would do next.

Fallout: Under Silver Skies [Closed]

Everyone was let go by said Pagans, receiving a mission and a down payment in the process.

1000 caps to find out who is targeting the Pagens guys, with a finger being pointed at Donna Lazari and her group. There were also promises of a further 1000 caps to those who return. Those who take the caps and run, or fail to succeed in their mission will find themselves with a rather large target on their backs and a promise that they'd find themselves inside some cannibal's belly.

Folks reached New Reno and have generally split up, gone to various establishments to attempt to retrieve bits of information and leads and what not.

That's roughly where folks are.

In terms of applications I believe we are sitting around the original number again with newly accepted characters, but there have been no words of closure at this stage. I'm sure at least one more wouldn't be an issue if you wanted to work on a CS.

Tsar Gatto & WolfHugz

Tony waited silently as his eyes stared fixated on the old wreck of a house he was watching, his eyes widening as he suddenly spotted the man he had been watching for. The house itself was large and obviously once was a very attractive property, even if those days were long gone. In the blink of an eye he had leapt from the small ledge he’d been sat on and was racing through the unkempt garden with inhuman speed. He stopped to the side of the man and leant causally against what was left of an old stone wall, waiting as if he’d been there for some time.

“Isn’t it a bit late to be visiting the old Dimont house isn’t it?” Tony asked from the shadows.

The man screamed and swung around, dropping the bag he had been carrying as he did. It clattered to the ground and all manner of silverware and other valuables came spilling out onto the path. Obviously he had been looting the place of its remaining valuables. He stared from the bag on the ground up to Tony and hesitated, obviously fearing the repercussions of theft from his previous employers.

He reached into his tatty jacket quickly and pulled out a wooden stake before pointing it at Tony and stuttering “S..stay back you… I know what you are!”

Tony continued to smirk as he retorted “and I know what you are Christopher, a weasely little human… and a thieving one by the looks of it too. How about we just talk like more civilized people?”

But before he had even finished speaking the man lunged forwards with the stake in hand. He was quick, quicker than Tony had expected him to be, but certainly not faster than he was. In one swift motion he aggressively slapped the stake away sending it flying into the undergrowth as he pinned the man against the rotting wall of the house, lifting him into the air slightly as he did so.

Tony’s smooth smirk had vanished and a look of anger and rage had now dominated his features.

“Tell me what happened to the Dimonts!” he growled, his teeth rapidly growing into sharp points as he slammed the now quivering man into the wall.

“Please no!” begged the man “They’re dead!”

“I know they are dead, who killed them!?

The man hesitated a few moments before he said “I don’t know… some hunter. Someone called The Cat… a girl!”

“The Cat?” Tony asked raising his eyebrows.

“You haven’t heard of her?” the man asked still trembling “she’s gotten rid of anyone around here with links to the royals. Word is she is looking for the Redferns…”

Tony frowned as he thought. It was true he had been away for quite some time, tracking down leads elsewhere. He’d heard that Hunter Redfern was abroad, but his searches had all come up empty, but he hadn’t thought anyone else would be hunting him – especially a human at that.

“Thank you friend” Tony said his face quickly resuming a smirk before he sank his teeth into the man’s neck. He tried to struggle away, but it was no use. Tony savoured the taste for a few moments before he pulled himself away. It would be so tempting and easy to drain him to the point of death, to quench his thirst in its entirety. But he had no interest in killing anyone unnecessarily, even a insignificant worm like this man.

“You will leave now and never return to this place” commanded Tony as he stared into the man’s eyes hypnotically “You will not remember this conversation”.

With that the man blinked and Tony was gone.

Christopher stood there for a moment rubbing his neck, wondering why it was suddenly a little sore. Shrugging he turned and walked pulling his jacket about himself tighter. It was a cold night and he had no idea why he wasn’t at home huddled before his fire, safe and sound.

Fallout: Under Silver Skies [Closed]

Gonna put this right here~

CS

Name/Nicknames: Brooks Moreland

Age: 43

Gender: Male

Appearance: Brooks is clearly a male human

Race: Human

Strengths:

- Endurance: Years of helping strangers and local towns has granted Brooks the gift of stamina and physical toughness. From plowing seeds to helping maintain make-shift pastures, Brooks is accustomed to working under the scalding sun and cool nights.

- Perception: Travelling alone has sculpted Brooks’ senses into a heightened state. Improving his ability to see, hear, and notice things other people would not.

- Intelligence: A daily dosage of the worn out and torn bible he carries with him allowed Brooks to become a well read man, the books contents offering him knowledge, wisdom and the ability to think quickly.

Weaknesses:

- Stubborn: Years of arguing his way out of fights and travelling alone has made it very difficult to get Brooks to change his mind once he’s got a set idea in his head. In his little world, his word is law; you’d need a small miracle to work around whatever goal he’s set off to achieve.

- Judgemental: For Brooks, first impressions really are everything. He takes you at face value and if he doesn’t like what he sees, you’ll have a damn hard time trying to work your way out of his assumptions.

- Rude: There’s a reason Brooks travels alone. His brutal honesty and tendency to make snide remarks has hardly made him a particularly amicable person, and he shows no shame in speaking his mind.

Personality:

Open

Brooks is practical. A realistic attitude has allowed him to be able to expect the worst and avoid nasty surprises; he rarely sees the good in people. His firm, cold demeanour emanates authority, but his respect needs to be earned through actions before he can trust you. He adheres to a loose moral code due to his belief in Christianity whilst understanding that sometimes the only way to survive is to fight dirty. This doesn’t stop him from reading and quoting the bible on a regular basis, however. He’s stubborn, narrow-minded and quick to make assumptions of people based on their appearance. Fortunately, Brooks is also very self-sufficient, and can go for long voyages on his own if need be.

Hidden behind his cold and hostile exterior is a bit of a soft side. A family man at heart, Brooks is steadfastly loyal and protective over those who he truly cares about. It would take a long time to be able to reach this level of intimacy with Brooks these days however as his past has made him very guarded and secretive, unwilling to divulge in his personal affairs.

Skills/Attributes:

- Hunter: Hunting wasteland wildlife and feral monsters has blessed Brooks with the knowledge and skill to proficiently wield a rifle against a broad variation of creatures. Repeated exposure to dangerous creatures has allowed Brooks to figure and adapt to their individual weak-points.

- Tracking: By examining his environment Brooks can distinguish varying tracks from one another, allowing him to not only be efficient in cking:tracking animals, but also clue him in on people’s location.

- Barter: When travelling solo, every cap counts. Brooks is determined to get the best deals out of any situation, so he is exceptionally good at negotiation and deal-making.

Back-story:

Open

Brooks was born in a less than ideal area near Salt Lake City in the state of Utah to a less than ideal dad. With the streets running rampant with crime, his future looked bleak. In a time of need people throughout history tended to turn to a beacon of hope, something that shone with promises of salvation; for Brooks and his mother that beacon was the christian faith. With nothing more than the shirt on his back, the love of his mother, and the bible tucked under his pillow, Brooks endured.

Being forced to pitch in to contributing to the family funds at an early age, Brooks set out to help the locals with as many mediocre tasks as possible. One task lead to another, and once he was of age to properly wield and use a weapon, the odd-job tasks turned into clearing out critters or chasing down packs of predators stirring trouble to local pastures and crops. Eventually, after realising how proficient he had become, Brooks expanded his horizon in regards to what he could do. He left town more than occasionally to hunt creatures for trophies and caps, or track wanted outlaws dwelling nearby.

The years passed on and Brooks’ mother eventually succumbed to the harsh death of radiation poisoning. After having suffered through turbulent experiences along with her son, the poverty, the abuse, the heartache, it had all become too much for her to bear on top of the painfully slow death she was facing. This would mark one of the lowest points Brooks had to endure during his adult life. Not knowing how to cope and without his mother's presence, he felt the grasp that religion had on him slip. After she died Brooks turned to the one thing his father had taught him, the bottle. The next years in Brooks’ life wasted away as he consumed drink after drink, all until he went through an especially difficult week of binging alcohol, realizing his self destructive path.

When it dawned upon him that his home had nothing besides bad memories left for him, Brooks did the best thing he could; he said his farewells, packed his belongings, and began to walk into a direction that would hopefully offer him some purpose. After being alone on the the road for nearly twenty years, some small act of fate caused him to cross paths with a young, malnourished girl. He watched from the entrance of an alley as three thugs came rushing out with the aforementioned girl huddled up defensively in its far corner. Scowling, he confronted the girl, only to be told that her belongings had been stolen by the three goons. Not thinking much about what trouble he might stir up, he chased the three men down to confront them. One harsh remark lead to another, and the situation took a turn for the worse as he shot all three of them in the alley. Brooks returned the items that were reportedly stolen back to the girl, and lent her a helping hand. The small favour was enough to have her trailing after him for weeks; eventually they had travelled too far for the kid to return home, and Brooks reluctantly let her stay. They have been travelling the Wastelands together for several years, living off bounties and mercenary work alongside Brooks’ hunting skills and deal-brokering.

@Biscuits

Hey looks good to me. I'm sure Kingfisher'll be along to have a look soon, but nothing stands out as an issue to me.

I'll be looking to get another post up today maybe tomorrow, get Anneliese stuck in things. I'm looking forwards to clashing, especially with our more chem indulgent types, see where her holier-than-thou attitude gets her to start with.

Fallout: Under Silver Skies [Closed]

<Snipped quote by Tsar Gatto>

My only memory of Oblivion is dying a lot

@Kingfisher

In my humble opinion Oblivion is the penultimate elder scrolls game. I've played literally 100% of that game, every single quest, each and every side quest, every single unscripted quest, each and every DLC related quest - everything. It's good. Very good. I've played every quest on a single character, it was a glorious time.

I can only recommend you play it. It's not even dated yet.

Fallout: Under Silver Skies [Closed]

Well I'all be…

google.co.uk/amp/kotaku.com/fallout-4-..

Nirnroots on the BoS airship…

fucking nirnroots…

I have Vietnam style flashbacks of the hours I spent in oblivion collecting all those bloody plants for that alchemist dude. So many nirnroots… too many… all the nirnroots… forever.