tundrafrog1124

The Long Afternoon of the Mojave (A Fallout Roleplay)

Kedi - North of Black Mountain - After Midnight October 18th

Kedi crawled low and slow along the ridgeline as he followed the path of Khan in front of him. He was the second of eight and together they snaked their way closer to the NCR camp ahead. It was an auspicious night. The waxing moon above was covered by dense clouds that had rolled off Black Mountain, blanketing the Khans in the steely black of night. The lead Khan, Angel, felt his way forward and those behind followed his exact path. It was a terribly slow process and it had taken them hours to go only two hundred meters. They had started shortly after the NCR troops had rotated their guards and when the clouds started to cover the sky. The first shift had been veteran rangers. Though they had kept themselves well concealed the distinctive glimmer of moonlight on their wide-visored helmets gave their identity away. The Khans had been tracking the squad of NCR infantry troops for almost three days and saw them pick up the rangers at For Gulf.

In total there were sixteen of them. Eleven troopers, four rangers and one prisoner. The infantry troops had been part of an escort protecting an NCR big-shot to Vegas just the day before. Today they had met up with rangers and doubled back escorting a prisoner to the correctional facility. It had been easy for Kedi and the Khans to track them as they made little attempt to conceal their movements. The difficulty came in keeping a low profile. Since the Omertas took control of New Vegas the Khans couldn’t risk openly crossing into their territory without paying in caps or blood. Still the Khans had found a way, through informants and debtors Angel had got the intel they needed and were able to catch up with the squad just before dusk. The rest of the Khan hunting party was waiting with the horses near the east end of the Green’s growth on Black Mountain. Kedi and the Khans with him were to rendezvous with them at Novac after the raid. There, Angel would lead them south through the hills till they reached their campsite just north of Searchlight.

The NCR escort made a tempting target, despite having four rangers among them they were well armed and had with them four horses and a seemingly valuable prisoner. The man had been kept bound and blinded throughout the march. Whoever he was, he was no friend of the NCR. While that didn’t make him a friend of the Khans, it made him a worthwhile prize. The horses and weapons and gear they could take would be a bonus. Angel had organized the raid and was willing to suffer whatever repercussions he might.

Angel rounded a large angled rock and slid quietly up to his elbows then back down. Kedi did the same. Ahead of them the two troopers on guard duty were sharing a cigarette. It confirmed a suspicion, they were recruits, young and inexperienced. They would be easy prey. Kedi swallowed what remorse he had over the actions to come and followed after the Khan ahead. As the rest of them coiled their way around the rock, Angel pulled a knife from the folds of his vest. Kedi did the same. The blades were as long and wide as a man’s forearm and blackened with soot so as not to catch the light. Angel tapped Kedi lightly on the shoulder.

Three taps.

Two taps.

One.

They sprang from around the rock. Angel grabbed the helmet of the first soldier, yanked his head back and plunged his blade into the open throat. Kedi fell upon the other using his full body weight to drive his knee into the man’s gut knocking the air from his lungs. He stuffed his left hand into the man’s open mouth and plunged his knife into the soft flesh above the collarbone. He forced it deep and ripped it out quickly stabbing again and again until the man stopped twitching. Kedi looked around then jerked his head, giving the signal for the other Khans to make their move. Four moved towards where the horses had been tied together and set about stealing them. The other two linked with Kedi and Angel and moved in on the other troopers. They slept with no coverings or paddings, just bodies under the open sky. With vicious haste the Khans fell upon them. Two, three, four at a time. They stabbed and hacked and smashed. The carnage lasted mere seconds before the first shot went off. One of the troopers had grabbed their rifle and fired into the night. Then pandemonium as the other soldiers raised the alarm and began to fire as well. The Khans fought and looted as they went. Slinging rifles across their backs and stuff thing pockets with ammunition, grenades and what other supplies they could grab in the darkness and chaos.

Kedi swung wide and ducked a punch from one of the rangers. He dropped his shoulder and fell into the man, brought himself up and dropped his elbow into the man’s chest. He heard a pained grunt and scrambled to his keet, kicking the man as he rose. Angel whistled loud signaling the end of the raid and Kedi set off towards him. Angel had secured the prisoner and freed the man from his bonds. Around Kedi the other Khans peeled themselves off the NCR soldiers and sprinted full speed back down the ridgeline. The snap of gunfire hot on their heels they maneuvered through the rocks aiming towards the Green ahead of them. Kedi’s heart was racing, he tripped, fell into a roll and jumped back to his feet. Ahead of him Angel dropped to the ground and tried to rise but fell again. Kedi grabbed him by the right arm and dragged him into the undergrowth. The prisoner grabbed the other arm and they moved up into the thick coverage of the Green. Kedi couldn't make out the features of the man in the dark but he looked young and strong. His head was shaved and he wore a rough looking jumpsuit and boots.

Once they were out of range, Kedi dropped Angel and checked the man over. The Khan had been shot through the chest. His breathing was labored and bubbles of blood splattered at his lips. He gurgled and drowned in his blood before Kedi. A tang of disbelief bit at his heart but there wasn’t time to waste. Kedi called to the other Khan and they worked together to drag their dead leader further up the mountain. They only made it a few dozen meters before they were forced to abandon the corpse. They propped him against the trunk of a gnarled juniper and Kedi took the pistol at his hip stuffed into his waistband and kissed him on the forehead. Angel had been part of Kedi’s initiation and had taught him many valuable and painful lessons. He had died a warrior's death, one worthy of the Great Khans. Kedi would tell stories about him.

They ran further into the Green, skirted the side of the mountain the excitement was high among them but the adrenaline was beginning to drop. Kedi noticed he had been shot, it was graze on the shoulder but enough to be concerned about. Two of the other Khans had been shot as well, one in the leg another in the gut. It would be slow going till they rendezvoused with the rest of their party and Kedi wasn't certain they would all make it. Together they stopped and caught their breath, Kedi squatted and wiped the sweat from his face. Daniel held his belly and sat against a stump.

"I just need a quick rest." He said, his breath labored. Even in the darkness Kedi could see his face growing pale. Gut wounds took hours to die from, it was a slow awful way to die. Kedi knew from experience.

"We need shelter. Daniel can't go no further."

The gut-shot Khan tried to wave off the concern but only groaned.

“We’ll head up till we can find a vantage point where we can signal the rest of the party.” Said Kedi. He had never led a war-party on his own but his close personal relationship to Angel made him feel that it was his responsibility to take charge.

“Any signal that we send is just as likely to be seen by them rangers as by our own folks.” Grimaced Daniel. “Just go on yourselves.”

“Khans don’t leave each other behind.” Kedi repeated one of the codes of honor their people lived by. “We go together or we don’t go at all.”

"I know where we can find shelter.” The prisoner's voice was low and soft and very much unlike his appearance. "Top of the mountain, its safe there.”

Kedi eyed the man carefully. He had heard rumors Black Mountain was still haunted by rogue mutants and he didn’t want to find out in there present condition. But they were running out of options.

“How do you know?”

“I know people there.”

“Bullshit. Ain’t no one stays up there. Between the muties and the radiation there ain’t much in the way of living.”

“My people manage.”

“Just who are they anyway?”

“They aren’t friends of the NCR if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“Well I figured as much. Still ain’t exactly illuminate who they are.”

The prisoner looked about the Khans around him, he rubbed his shaved head and exhaled slowly. “We should keep moving. Once those rangers recover they’ll be after us.”

Kedi knew he was right. He had only had one previous run-in with a ranger and it hadn’t been pretty. Still it was dark and the Khans had a head start. “What’s your name?”

The man didn’t respond, he looked behind them back down the slope of the mountain. “There’s no time for formalities. We need to go.”

“Fine.” Kedi barked, the pain from the graze was beginning to settle on his mind. “You lead the way.”

With a little help from the others Daniel was brought to his feet and they slowly made their way through the foliage towards the summit. The Khans kept quiet and their guide spoke little aside from advising which path to take. Kedi could see the man was familiar with the area. That much was beneficial but he wondered who exactly they were being led to. He looked at Daniel, slick with his own blood. He guessed it didn’t matter much now. Kedi would take the hand of anyone who offered if it meant he didn’t have to watch another Khan die this night. He jogged up closer to the prisoner.

“We’re putting a lot of faith in you right now. Tell me who you’re bringing us to.”

"My people.” The man’s reply was curt.

“Who are they?”

"The Brotherhood."

The Long Afternoon of the Mojave (A Fallout Roleplay)

Ambassador Benjamin “Benny” Watts - Gomorrah - Morning, October 17th

Benny was surprised when Dominic pulled forth what he assumed was the handle of the stiletto blade and angled it close to his chest. However, the Don pressed some hidden button on the object and it vomited forth a cigarette. Benny chuckled and took it gingerly. It was longer than usual, not unlike a cigarillo and he ran it under his nose to get a good whiff. It smelled strong and earthy with a hint of something almost spiced.

“Smells delicious.” He smiled.

The old gangster smiled and he pulled out a gold-plated lighter. He lit Benny’s cigarette and then his own. For a moment the two men smoked in silence and Benny felt himself transported to New Reno. Sitting in a dimly lit lounge with Mr. Bishop, it made him uncomfortable and he was relieved when Dominic broke the tension.

“Omerta. Means silence. You have my word, the Colonel won’t hear about it from me. Though I am curious why you’d trust me at all, I’m frankly flattered that you’d think little ol’ me important enough to hear details of what is obviously going to be a very sensitive operation before they even happen,” Dominic drew on his cigarette and exhaled the smoke calmly through the right side of his mouth, “But honestly, why should there would be any cause for concern at all? Colonel Abernathy is a loyal NCR man is he not? A patriot? Surely you aren’t suggesting he’d be capable of some sort of rebellion?”

Benny scoffed, “Rebellion? Not at all. While I haven’t met the Colonel personally I can attest he is a loyal son of the Republic. Very few members of the NCR military have been afforded the autonomy and power he was given with his governorship of the Mojave. The fact he hasn’t abused that power is, I believe, a clear indicator of his allegiance to the state. However,” Benny stated uneasily “As I am sure you are well aware through your own experience, when you give a man power and independence. He can sometimes be reluctant to see it lessen.” He emphasized the final word. Benny took a long drag and exhaled before a sip of coffee. The flavor of the bitter-acidic coffee paired well with the full flavor of the cigarette.

“To be quite frank Mr. Dominic I tell you this information because I know how important the Dam and Helios is to your operation here. Without the power provided by those facilities, well the caps won’t exactly be rolling in if those slot machines aren’t running and people can’t see those dancers on stage. I believe a wise businessman such as yourself is invested in knowing how these facilities are protected and by whom. As private contractors the CSF agents assigned to the security of these posts will be afforded a greater amount of discretion in how they apply force.” Benny hoped the indication was clear. There would be no warnings, no arrests made. Trespassers would be shot. He took another drag and before Dominic could say anything he pivoted the conversation.

“I came here today to do more than just establish a dialogue between the Van-Graff administration and the families of the Strip. I believe, and I hope you’ll agree, that the future stability and profitability of the Mojave relies on a strong central authority here in Vegas. Through your actions you have clearly made strides in securing swathes of this city under the control of the Omerta family. I hope that as things change and we move closer to annexation the Van-Graff administration can rely upon their friends at the Gomorrah to step in when certain misguided individuals show objection to the obvious betterment of the city and territory at large.” Benny gave him a politician's smile, full of nice white teeth.

The Long Afternoon of the Mojave (A Fallout Roleplay)

Ambassador Benjamin “Benny” Watts - Gomorrah - Morning, October 17th

Benny nearly choked on his coffee when Dominic mentioned Lucy being his daughter. He hadn’t expected the Omerta family to be a literal genetic family and the revelation of that information startled him. First the Bishops, then the Van-Graffs and now the Omertas, why couldn’t he get away from families of gangsters? Benny cursed his luck but was able to play it off. Wiping his mouth he uneasily made a joke about the temperature of the coffee and took a bite of the cake to wash it down. He had greatly underestimated Dominic. The man filled his ranks with his own children and was now marrying the head of one of the other families. Dominic wasn’t just some gang leader in a suit, the man was angling to become lord of Vegas. He wouldn’t be a speed bump for the Van-Graffs to roll over, he was a wall. A very thick wall that would be hell to break down.

When Benny tried to reassure Dominic that his authority would not be dismantled the Don grew quiet for a moment. He looked oddly serene and stared directly at Benny who smiled nervously. Then all of a sudden Dominic’s expression lightened and he gave a smile that rapidly grew into a wide jovial grin.

“Ahh, that’s good to hear. Very good to hear. I must admit that we’re all very concerned about what our NCR friends have in store for us. Tell me Benny, man to man, what does the NCR have in mind for New Vegas? What do you see for Sin City in our future?”

Benny had thankfully taken another bite of cake, it would give him a few moments to conjure up a response. He needed to walk a fine line between truth and fiction. Dominic clearly wasn’t the fat fool he wanted to present as and Benny knew that the old gangster would see through any blatant lie. However, Benny wouldn’t be able to tell the whole truth of what he knew and get to walk out of the casino after. At best they’d used him as a hostage, at worst they’d kill him in this very room. Thankfully Brianna had kept her cards close and since he was only a pawn in their schemes he wasn’t privy to the full plans the Van-Graffs held for New Vegas. If he could simply play into his ignorance and offer what secrets he did know then he just might get out of here with his life and dignity.

“Well Mr. Dominic, as a territory of the republic the Mojave has been able to benefit from the protection provided by the military for the past few years without paying taxes. One of our first orders of business would be the implementation of a tax bureau for the region in order to facilitate the effective taxation of business and settlements. Of course, as the population center of the region,Vegas itself would be subject to republic taxation as well. The exact rate and scale of this taxation is beyond my purview and is, as I understand, yet to be determined. I’m sure after careful consultation with yourself and the other family heads we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement. As for plans for the city itself, the president has expressed to me her desire to keep Vegas as an oasis. An outlet for citizens and travelers to entertain themselves and enjoy a respite from day to day affairs. Obviously some of the rougher edges, like Freeside, would need to be smoothed out but overall I believe there is great promise here. The influence of the Green on the city has thankfully been limited to its wider suburbs and a few isolated locations as I am aware. This is good as with a growing influx of republic citizenry in the area there can be a concentrated effort on limiting further growth.” Benny had started to ramble a bit and it was intentional, he wanted to bury the lies within the truth. He spoke quickly, giving Dominic no chance to respond to his individual points and hoping to overwhelm him with information.

“Obviously the greatest asset of the Mojave remains the Hoover Dam and Helios One. These are essential generators of power for both the NCR and New Vegas.” He motioned to himself and then Dominic. “Over the past several weeks the president has reassigned many of the engineers and advisors stationed at these sites. They have been replaced with those from the La Brea Institute, a state-sponsored research center from back west. The current division in the Mojave is headed by a Dr. Zupan who arrived at Helios One sometime last week. Currently both these sites are protected by infantry under the command of Col. Abernathy. Now, the president and I both are aware that the colonel has created…well lets just say a hostile relationship with many in the region. As an act of good faith to the people of the Mojave and Vegas in the next few weeks the president will issue a changing of the guard order for those infantrymen. Going forward both the Hoover Dam and Helios One will be under the protection of the Van-Graff corporate security forces.” This was the nugget of truth Benny offered. A valuable piece of knowledge that only a few knew. The Don would be smart enough to realize how sensitive this information was and though Benny didn’t trust the gangster he knew it was in Dominic’s best interest to keep quiet about it. He hoped the revelation of this secret would distract from the other more worrying lies he had slipped in. Benny smiled slyly as he dropped this information.

“Now that last part is hush-hush for now Mr. Dominic, so it would be in both our interests if this information didn’t get leaked before the transfer happened. The president is expecting that the colonel will not be happy with this information so we hope to catch him by surprise before he can react or resist. The CSF is well trained and well equipped and will be more than able to protect these valuable sites. My own security detail consists of CSF agents and I’m sure Lucy let you know that they are not to be underestimated. Come to think of it, upon our arrival last night I saw several mercenaries with your own men that were outfitted with similar gear. I didn’t recognize them, but then again, guns for hire aren’t too uncommon out here on the frontier.” Benny smiled again, he had found his verbal footing and felt more confident than before. He patted around his coat but realized he had left his cigarettes at the embassy.

“I hate to be trouble Mr. Dominic but do you have anything I could smoke?”

The Long Afternoon of the Mojave (A Fallout Roleplay)

@bangoskank
We're always welcoming new members! I like both the ideas you've presented, however as @crimson paladin is heading the BoS in this RP you'll need his approval for any Brotherhood characters before I'll consider them.

I really like the idea of the New Eden faction and would be interested to hear more about your ideas for it. We have a discord for the RP where most of the OOC discussion takes place. If you're interested let me know and I'll send you a link.

The Long Afternoon of the Mojave (A Fallout Roleplay)

Veteran Ranger Richard Holmes - Fort Gulf - Afternoon, October 17th

Richard carefully rolled another cigarette and offered it to Gloriana as they waited. The last of SSG Keyes' squad was assembled behind them and were being briefed about the escort. The sun was high and beamed down hot on the soldiers gathered before the gates of the fort. There was a slight breeze but not enough to keep the sweat away and Richard wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his oil slick duster before returning the wide-brimmed hat to his head. Between him and Gloriana was their prisoner. A young man with his arms ahead of him and bound together at the wrists. Two leads branched out from his bindings, one of them held by Richard, the other by Gloriana. Ahead of them were two of her Rough Riders who would serve as forward scouts for the escort. Richard looked down at the young man, a linen hood made from a sack covered his head and eyes. He wore a jumpsuit with the sleeves of the forearms cut off and the zipper removed. He had been granted a pair of boots and rough spun wool socks for the journey but they would be taken upon his arrival at NCRCF.

As Keyes finished the briefing, Richard gave the all clear sign to the watchmen ahead and the chain link gate was slid open. As one the company of soldiers moved out and headed due west across the Mojave. There was sparse chatter among the infantry mostly about the previous night they had spent on the Strip. Richard noticed several of them were especially quiet and sullen. Bad luck at the tables he had guessed, sooner or later Vegas got the best of everyone. Only way to win was not to play, that's why Richard never entered the city unless on an official mission. He lit himself a cigarette and puffed it slowly as they made their way southwest along the road. In all their years spent together Denver’s conservative beliefs had begun to rub off on Richard but smoking, he took a long drag, that was something he would never quit.

He looked at Gloriana, her eyes focused on the road ahead. She had been quieter than he’d seen her before and hadn’t asked many details about the mission but she had raised an eyebrow at seeing the size of the escort provided for a single prisoner. Richard had wanted to tell her the identity of the young man, that he was a Brotherhood captive but Denver had expressly forbidden it. He understood why they couldn’t allow that information to get out, especially with Denver’s command over the region in question now more than ever with the new president. Richard trusted Gloriana and he knew Denver did as well and that trust was hard earned. They had all served as rangers together and saved each other's skin more times than any of them would like to admit. But years of command had taken their toll on Denver and he had become ever more grim and morose. Gloriana too, after Teresa’s death in the battle for Hoover Dam she had become withdrawn, her smile ever harder to find. Richard understood and he held sympathy for both of them, God knew that few others did.

“It’s gonna be a long ride, Gloriana. Care to let me in a bit?” He was careful with his choice of words and kept a soft but even tone. Richard genuinely wanted to know what aggrieved her but he knew they must be careful with their speech with the prisoner between them. “I heard ya’ll just came back from hunting just south of the Mojave. I appreciate you recovering so quickly and joining us out here. It's good to see an old friend. I get sick of looking at Denver frown every day.” He said with a dry chuckle. Richard looked out ahead of them and saw the outline of the Follower’s Outpost in the distance. It was gonna be a long day.

The Long Afternoon of the Mojave (A Fallout Roleplay)

Ambassador Benjamin “Benny” Watts - Gomorrah - Mid-Morning, October 17th

Benny had been shocked to see the Gomorrah as busy as it was so early in the morning. In New Reno casinos weren’t bustling till the sun had begun to set. Hell, some of them didn’t even open till nightfall. It was even a stark contrast from the other casinos on the Strip. The Ultra Luxe had been quiet and unnerving when he entered searching for the bakery. The place smelled delicious but the mannerisms of the staff and those masks and gloves. They were polite and prompt and professional but the whole package of the casino had creeped him out. He was happy to not be having a meeting there this early into his assignment. When that time came he would definitely be bringing security with him.

He was greeted by Lucy when he arrived at the Gomorrah and he was pleased to see her. Her clothing was pressed and fitted and her platinum blonde hair was clean and well combed. She had so much potential and Benny thought it a shame he was an ambassador and not a stylist. The wonders he could work in this city if only he was able to follow his heart's desire. But then afterall it was following his desires that landed him in his current predicament. Perhaps he had better keep his mind focused on the task at hand.

All eyes were on him as he followed Lucy across the floor of the casino. Perfumed dancers led patrons away to private rooms and gangsters nodded with respect at his passing. One scantily clad woman even touched his shoulders and offered her services for free. It was a show that much he was certain of, but a little flattery never went unappreciated. Benny enjoyed the company of beautiful women but he knew in places like Vegas such company always came at a price, even if it wasn’t in caps.

They moved further into the Gomorrah and Benny was treated to an idea of just how large some of these casinos must be. A vast sprawling area packed with gamblers and lecherous drunks who hooped and hollered at a stage where entertainers twirled and contorted to the rhythms of the music. Benny realized Lucy was taking him on a scenic tour of the facilities offering a preview of all that could be found and enjoyed behind the leather padded doors of the casino. He would be lying if he said it was an ineffective strategy. And yet he couldn’t shake a growing sense of unease as he was led further and further into the Gomorrah. There were no windows and every door seemed to only open to a new artery of sin and vice. Benny looked carefully at a few of the patrons who lingered about the edges of the room. Their eyes were sunken and glossy, their movements soft and languid. They looked like they had been trapped in the casino for days and Benny considered the very real possibility that they had been. How many others met that same fate? Lured in through those large black doors like flies to honey only to get lost in the rush of ecstasy and thrill of danger and sex until they could no longer find their way out.

Lucy brought Benny through another side hallway and down a corridor lined with Omerta thugs to a singular dark door. It was blocked by an incredibly large man with the demeanor of a guard dog and the build of a wild bull. Yet as Benny approached the man slipped aside and left the door open. Next to the door, emblazoned on a black and gold plaque, were the words ‘Zoara Club - VIPs ONLY.’ Inside Benny could hear laughter, curses and the clinking of silverware and crystal glasses.

“Dominic is inside,” Lucy said with a wink, “He’s the loud mouth you can hear from a mile away. I hope you enjoy your time here in Gomorrah…”

Benny smiled and nodded his thanks. “Always a pleasure Lucy.” He thought her charming and it was good considering her role within the Omerta family. This Dominic surely chose his employees carefully. Once he was inside he was greeted with the sight of a well dressed fat man lounging about with a few others at a large table in the center of the Zoara club room.

“...and so then I told him, I told him ‘Johnny...now you know that ain’t chocolate....that’s molerat shit! HA!”

The men burst into a peel of laughter and the large man continued, “Ahh sometimes I miss the old neighborhood. Good times, oh now look what the cat just dragged in! Heyo its the new NCR Ambassador himself!” the man said, turning to Benny as he stepped forward. Benny assumed correctly this was the infamous Don Dominic he had heard so much about. Dominic rose to his feet and walked over to him, extended his hand and greeting Benny warmly with a jovial grin, “Welcome Mr. Watts welcome. Please…sit down and take a load off. Oh, what’s that?” He looked down at the dessert Benny was holding, “Black Forest Cake? Ah you sir are a gentleman. Hey fellas look at this guy bringing cake to a meeting. Now why the hell don’t youse guys ever bring me anything? Huh?” He laughed followed by more boisterous guffaws from the seated Captains. “Now I hope you’re planning on helping me out with eating that,” Dominic chuckled as he pointed to the cake, “What, you didn’t think I could eat that all by myself did you?” He patted his large stomach for a moment and then laughed again, “Or maybe you did. HA!”

Benny smiled. He was uncomfortable with how forward the Don was. Benny knew gangsters and he thought he read them well but the absolute jovial greeting of Dominic had thrown him off balance. This man was the king of sin city and yet he acted like a kindly father. The Don ordered his men to leave the room and with but a word of confirmation the other Omertas were gone. He hadn’t needed to raise his voice or threaten them. Whether it was respect or fear that kept them so utterly subservient Benny was afraid to find out.

Dominic then sat down next to Benny and leaned back in his chair, “What can I get you eh? Got a breakfast buffet over there,” He pointed to a long skinny table at the other end of the room where a huge spread of breakfast food had been placed in warmers along with coffee and a variety of other beverages. No need to get up, Sally will get you anything you want. Yo, Sally!”

A topless redheaded waitress approached the table with her hands clasped together in front of her. Benny was unable to contain the astonishment that showed on his face. He hadn’t noticed her when he entered the room, had she been there the whole time? Benny looked around trying to see if there were any exits he might have missed. Avenues of escape maybe but escape would be nigh impossible this far in the labyrinth of the casino.

“Get Mr. Watts here whatever he wants. Or just a helping of everything if he can’t decide HA! Grab him whatever drink he wants too. OH, and slice me off a piece of that cake, will ya?” Dominic said with a snap of his fingers and the waitress bowed before asking Benny what he liked.

“Just some coffee please ma’m. Thank you.” He smiled and returned his focus on Dominic. Benny knew better than to deny hospitality from a host like the Don but he also didn’t trust the man and he needed to be alert and focused not immersed in a plate of grits and beans and bacon.

“So Mr. Watts, mind if I call you Benny? You're welcome to call me Dom if you like. I get tired of stuffy formalities sometimes. First things first, is Vegas everything you hoped it would be? Anything not meeting your expectations? Hey if Sin City ain’t up to snuff, you let ol’ Dom know and I’ll make sure you get the full experience.”

Benny placed his large felt hat on the seat next to him and crossed his legs. He produced a cigarette from a pocket in his jacket and lit it.

“Pleasures all mine Mr. Dominic. I truly appreciate you opening up the Gomorrah to me so early in the day. It was a spectacular experience I was greeted with upon my arrival this morning. Likewise,” he took a drag and exhaled to the side away from the Don. “I want to thank you sincerely for the greeting my escort and I were given upon our arrival to the Strip last night. As I’m sure you are aware we were not so kindly received on our entrance to Freeside.” Benny grimaced at the thought of the mercenary’s death. It had been so needless and violent it sickened him. Returning a smile to his face, “Especially your employee the lady Lucrezia. She is quite the woman, you should be proud to have her in your staff. She represents your business and your interests well.”

Benny allowed himself a moment to fully take in the Don as the man dug into his slice of cake. He was fat but wore a tailored pinstripe suit that held his girth in an elegant manner. His hair was thinning on his head and he wore a thick black mustache that was a contrast to Benny’s own thin line of a mustache. Dominic wouldn’t look out of place seated beside Mr. Bishop back in New Reno and that thought brought fear to Benny’s mind. He had to be careful, he had to keep a close eye on this Dominic lest the Don find out about Benny’s own connections to that small city of sin to the North. If the Omertas were as unscrupulous as their reputation then Benny knew he could at best expect to be black mailed and at worst…well it was best he didn’t dwell on that, especially now.

“I hope the cake is to your liking sir. The barista at the Ultra Luxe refused to let me pay for it when I informed him who it was for. I’m assuming you have a connection with that casino as well? In any case I hope we can be candid with each other and open up an easy line of dialogue. You’re the first family representative to invite me to a parlay upon my arrival. I’m sure you’re curious about annexation, taxation and what all the NCR has planned for New Vegas. I will answer these questions to the best of my knowledge and as far as my professional discretion allows. However,” Benny leaned in close. “I want to assure you that the president has no intention of dismantling the authority held by the families of the Strip. It is only with mutual respect between our organizations that we can make this annexation a painless process.”

It was a lie and an egregious one at that. But given the fact that Benny lied for a living and had only just met the Don he hoped the gangster would believe it.

The Long Afternoon of the Mojave (A Fallout Roleplay)

Corporal Yazan Mohammad - Gomorrah - Midnight, October 16th

Yazan had barely set his glass down before a waitress in a flashy cocktail dress came and replaced it with another tequila. Such had been the pattern since he stepped into the Gomorrah. He had rushed in with the rest of his squad eager to enjoy their first night on the Strip. Their eyes wide at the extravagant displays of revelry and debauchery that filled the casino. They were utterly intoxicated by the spectacle for the first few hours but after a dozen or so drinks and poor luck at the slot machines and card tables he was aching for sleep and quiet. The music was loud, the lighting garish and inconsistent and the press of perfumed dancers, entertainers and drunk gamblers left him feeling disoriented and nauseous. Sitting quietly on the bench his thoughts returned to the violence he had seen at the gates to Freeside. Yazan had seen more corpses than he’d care to admit during the famine but he’d never seen a man’s face vaporized in a plume of plasma before. The ghastly stench of melted flesh and burned hair still singed his nostrils even after six strong drinks. It had been a chaotic few moments but the sheer ease at which the CSF officer had killed the man deeply disturbed Yazan. He could still see his corpse sprawled out in the street and despite the loud music his ears rang with the snap of energy weapon discharging.

He took a weak sip of his drink and cringed at the strength of the cocktail. Yazan sat on a bench with two of his squadmates between two potted ferns. Emily was seated at the blackjack table in front of them. She was the last member of the squad still standing, the rest having left the casino more than an hour ago. She had made a remarkable turnaround from the start of playing and now was on a seven hand winning streak. Gamblers from several other tables had stopped and gathered around to watch the young soldier play. She wore a devilish grin and celebrated enthusiastically everytime she won. She had started with her own voucher but as the night wore on and the rest of the squad had begun to taper out they passed their remaining chips on to her. Now flush with over two thousand chips Emily had doubled down and begun to push her luck with increasingly higher bets every hand.

Yazan had enjoyed watching her radiant smile light up with every win but as he scanned the crowd gathered around he had begun to notice several faces which lacked the glassy eyed stupor of the average gambler. They wore matching pressed suits with their hats cocked ever slightly. He saw them exchange a glance before two of them broke off and maneuvered their way across the casino floor. Yazan took another quick sip, winced and then rose unsteadily to his feet. He shuffled through the crowd and grabbed Emily by the arm as the dealer laid out a fresh hand. Her sharp eyes met Yazan’s and narrowed. He felt a flutter of warmth in his chest.

“What?”

“I think we should go.”

She rolled her eyes and carefully slid her arm out of his grip. “It's bad luck to cut a streak short. Besides, I’m making new friends.” She winked at the patrons gathered around them. Yazan grabbed her arm again and tugged on it lightly. She cocked her head and stared into Yazan’s eyes. Her face was playful and expectant. “What?”

Yazan touched his head to hers and whispered into her ear. “They think you’re cheating.” His voice was breathy and he shook slightly as he spoke so close to her. He stood up and glanced back at the men in suits, he could only see one of them now. Her eyes scanned the crowd and he could see on her face as she began to register the situation. She began to scoop up the chips with her when the dealer motioned for her to stop.

“The cards have been dealt, you cannot back out now without forfeiting your bet.”

Emily looked at the dealer and the other men at the table. Her tongue stuck to the corner of her mouth she flipped her cards. A king and an ace of hearts. The other gamblers swore. Emily feigned a bow before she grabbed the chips and scooted off the stool and into the crowd with Yazan. They weaved their way back to the bench and Yazan grabbed his other squad mates on the verge of sleep. He jolted them awake, spoke a rushed word of caution to them as quietly as he could. Together they pushed their way across the floor towards the cashier’s cage. Yazan looked around searching for anyone who might be tailing them. Only one man met his gaze, a dark dressed man in a black fedora with the stub of a cigarette in his mouth. The man winked. Yazan looked away and pushed for Emily and the others to move faster.

“Cashing out?” asked the cashier behind the bars. She was a young woman with a bored expression and finely styled hair. Emily nodded enthusiastically.

“Yessum ma’m.” She dumped the chips into the trough and smiled at the cashier, proud of her haul. The cashier’s eyebrows raised ever so slightly and she began to sort the chips with practiced fluidity.

“Quite the haul for some young troopers such as yourself.”

“Just me.” Emily beamed and Yazan couldn’t help but smile. He scanned the casino floor once more but couldn't see the man. Hopefully they had lost him. The cashier was quick and was already asking Emily what currency she wanted the payout. Emily paused for a moment.

“I’ll take caps.”

The cashier nodded and disappeared for a moment, returning with a silver tin in her hands the name Gomorrah emblazoned on top. She slid it open to reveal neatly wrapped rolls of caps.

“Five thousand two hundred and fifty five caps.”

Emily’s grin encompassed her entire face and there was a spark of pure delight in her eyes. Even with the tension in his chest Yazan was enamored with the simple beauty of her joy.

“Christssake Emily! Hope you’re gonna share that.” said David, a private in their squad. Like Yazan and Robert they had given Emily the remainder of their vouchers after several bad hands at the tables.

“When have I ever been a selfish winner?” She smiled devilishly and David just rolled his eyes. Once she had her hands on the tin the group ambled their way to the casino doors and stepped out into the brisk October air. Yazan scanned the guards at the door. They looked tired and indifferent, as if they didn’t even notice the squad of young soldiers. It was a relief to Yazan. Together they began to walk their way down the Strip back towards the embassy. Yazan watched contentedly as Emily bickered with David and Robert. She worked to justify her right to the entirety of the winnings while the young privates simply wanted a return for their offered vouchers. Just as she had won at the card table she was winning the argument. Yazan smiled, admiring the way the neon lighting illuminated her high cheekbones and strong jawline. She could do no wrong in his eyes, at least not tonight.

“Easy there corporal.” came a cool voice from behind him. Yazan turned and his stomach dropped when he recognized the man from the casino floor. The man was holding a cigarette with his right hand while his left hand fingered a pistol tucked into his waistband. Emily and the rest of them continued on for several feet before they noticed Yazan had stopped and turned to see what held him up. She held a smile on her face until she noticed the fear in Yazan’s eyes.

“Who are you?” She asked the man.

“John Luciano.” The man said proudly, he flashed an identifier too quick for them to see clearly. “I’m here on behalf of the Gomorrah.” A dark grin grew on the man’s face, he spit and took a long drag. “Got quiet the tin there don’t ya girly?” Two other men appeared at his side with matching suits and hats.

Emily scowled.

“Now we can do a whole song dance out here where everyone can see but I think it's best for both of us if you go ahead and hand that over.”

“Get fucked.” said Emily and Yazan looked back at her with surprise. He knew she had a penchant for gambling but he hadn’t considered that behavior may extend to situations where their lives were on the line.

The man clicked his tongue and wagged his finger. “That's no way for a lady to speak, especially after cheating away an evening at the card table.”

David and Robert flanked Emily and did their best to try and appear tough but Yazan just wished she would hand it over. John threw down his cigarette and held out his hand expectantly.

“Do the right thing and I won’t have to let the Omertas know.” He looked her up and down. “You’re not much to look at sweetie but they have uses for young women who cross them.” He looked at Yazan and the others “Not so much for young men.”

Yazan thought of the man he had seen killed earlier and now imagined himself, sprawled out in the street. Another corpse to be picked over. The image was revolting. Emily looked at him and the other before she meekly handed the tin over. Yazan held his gaze on the man.

“Smart move.” The man said with a wicked smile. “Now enjoy your night.” He tipped his hat and walked back towards the doors of the Gomorrah. Emily stamped off towards the embassy with David and Robert rushing to catch up with her. Yazan stood still for a moment, trying to process what had happened before he moved to catch up with them. He stopped and looked back and noticed as the man kept walking past the casino. The man was speed walking towards the north gate of the Strip. The two men with him kept their eyes on the Omerta guards. Yazan didn’t understand but he turned and walked back to the embassy.

Once they arrived Emily avoided him and the others and went straight to bed. Yazan couldn’t sleep, his heart still raced at the shame and humiliation and fear. He kept thinking about what the man had said about the Omertas. How they had walked past the casino and headed to the Strip gate. He tossed and turned and got up to walk the halls of the embassy when he knew he couldn’t sleep. The building was dimly lit and dilapidated, most of the rooms having been converted to ramshackle gambling dens. It was far too late for gaming and most of the staff had gone to bed so he walked alone. He paced around for a while before the exhaustion of the day’s march and the liquor of the Gomorrah began to pull at his eyelids. Yazan yawned, stretched and headed back to his bunk. He lay there for a few minutes and his thoughts returned to the man he had seen killed. How easily that could have been himself and Emily and the others. How close to death they had been it was as if he could smell it. Like the horrid scent of burned flesh and human hair. He could see it clearly even in the dark room, his body doubled over in a heap with brains and blood leaking from his head.

Then it struck him and he almost shot outta bed with anxious realization. The men hadn’t been with casino. They were conmen and Emily had been their mark. Humiliation and rage boiled within his chest, red-hot and nearly blinding. He wanted to run. Run out onto the Strip and search for the men. But then what? What could he do? If he even found them they’d gun him down and rob his corpse. Yazan nearly cried in frustration. He had never felt so powerless and alone.

The Long Afternoon of the Mojave (A Fallout Roleplay)

<Snipped quote by tundrafrog1124>

Thank you! I'd be honored to dust the writing muscles off with the old crew. Just need to catch up with where the RP is at and brainstorm something that I can contribute.

@Prizrak

Nothing too big has occurred quite yet. Mostly just developing the characters. We have a discord as well if you’d like an invite.

The Long Afternoon of the Mojave (A Fallout Roleplay)

Marisol Gutierrez - Strip Embassy - Morning, October 17th

Marisol held the syringe of ink carefully as she slowly filled the barrel of her fountain pen. Once the ink reached the threads she returned the syringe to the ink pot, applied a dab of grease and then screwed the end of the barrel on. She set the pen down on her notepad and wrote out her name. The ink ran smoothly and she blew lightly on her signature. Even after ten years she found delight in her ability to write. Born to a small tribe in Arizona she hadn’t the luxury of an education and had only received literacy instruction shortly before her employment at the embassy. She had been hired as an assistant receptionist but in the years since her role had expanded to almost every layer of the embassy. She arranged public correspondences, compiled reports to send back West and often ghost wrote the speeches of the last three ambassadors. As the other staff members constantly cycled out due to systemic corruption and incompetence it wasn’t long before Marisol found herself the most senior member of the embassy. It gave her great personal satisfaction to be the last one standing and she knew she would outlast this new ambassador as well.

She’d had only a brief interaction with Mr. Watts the night before when his escort arrived at the Strip. He looked weary from the road but was well dressed and conducted himself with decorum. More so than could be said for Marisol’s co-workers. Many of whom had continued their games in front of the ambassador and several hadn’t even risen from their poker tables to greet him. She didn’t mind their conduct, the worse their behavior the more elevated she would be in his eyes. By being the most competent and disciplined person in the building she had gained the trust of the past ambassadors and planned to do the same with Mr. Watts.

It was nearing nine thirty in the morning and yet Marisol was the only staff member at their post. Heading the large receptionist’s desk at the entrance to the embassy she was the first and last person any visitor saw and spoke to when visiting. She was able to curate who the ambassador met with and at what time She was even able to alter the mood of the interaction by unnecessarily delaying the meeting if she so desired. Through these actions she was always able to play both sides, blaming the guests for their tardiness and then turning around and blaming the ambassador for being unprepared. It had earned her a positive reputation throughout the Strip as the only competent one in the building. She had received offers of employment at several of the casinos, principally the Tops and the Gomorrah. She had rejected them of course but utilized those connections to ingratiate herself with the families of the Strip.

She heard footsteps and looked up from her scribbles. The ambassador was quickly walking down the hallway toward her desk, his expression was dour. She smiled.

“Good morning Mr. Watts.”

His face remained stern. “Good morning. Where the hell is everybody?” His agitation was clear to read on his freshly shaved face. His thin mustache formed a tight black line on his upper lip. He held a large felt hat in his left hand, his hair was slicked and heavily styled with a single pronounced curl that bounced with every step. He put far more effort into his appearance than the last few ambassadors had.

“I would assume they are asleep sir, or out to breakfast.” She held her smile as she looked at the brightly shone leather shoes Mr. Watts wore.

“Why are they not at work? Is this what they call professionalism here?”

“I’m afraid so sir.”

He looked about the empty halls of the embassy before sighing. “Looks like I’ll be after some new staff members.” He smiled at her weakly. “It's a relief to see someone who takes this position seriously.”

“Oh only when the boss is looking.” she teased. His smile grew.

“Well don’t worry I won’t let you too far out of my sight.” He gave her a wink. “Well Miss…” he looked over at the nameplate on her desk “...Gutierrez, would you be able to send a call over to the Gomorrah for me?”

“Of course!” She wheeled her chair closer to the phone and poised herself ready to dial. “What should I tell Lucy?”

Mr. Watt’s expression softened. “You know Miss Lucrezia?”

“It's a small town.” She waved her hand in jest and he chuckled.

“Well go ahead and call her up. Let her know I’ll be over in about an hour to meet with Don Dominic. I had planned to invite him here but,” He looked about the empty, dilapidated embassy. “This place doesn’t exactly scream class. Or professionalism.” He looked back at Marisol. “Except for you of course.”

She smiled and dialed up the reception desk at the Gomorrah and after identifying herself was patched through to the consigliere’s office.

“Lucy? Hey good morning! This is Marisol, just calling in to let you know Mr. Watts will be over within the hour. Yes. Alright. Yes I’ll let him know. Alright take care.” She hung up the phone and jotted something down. She tore off the sheet of paper and handed it to the ambassador.

“These are a few of Don Dominic’s favorite desserts, you can find them at the Ultra Luxe bakery. They’re baked fresh everyday. Lucy suggested you begin the meeting by offering him one. He is known for his sweet tooth”

Mr. Watts read over the paper and a wide white grin grew across his face. “Well thank you so much. Miss Guiterrez, this is most helpful.”

“Please, call me Marisol.”

He tapped his hat to his head before heading towards the door. He stopped after a few steps and turned back around. He pointed to the name she had written at the top of the page.

“Now I recognize these other desserts, but what’s this one?” he pointed to the name Marisol had written at the top of the page when testing her pen.

Dawn Song

“Oh that,” Marisol’s face went red and she moved her hand in a nervous dismissal. “Just something I write down as morning warm up.” She smiled sheepishly. Mr. Watts gave her a wink, folded the paper and walked out of the embassy. Marisol took a deep breath to calm herself. What stupid mistake that had been. She had become too lax over these last few ambassadors who were content to drink and gamble their days away. If Mr. Watts wasn’t so clueless, if he wasn’t so new he may have suspected something. She could have truly put herself at risk and the last seven years of work would be for nothing. Marisol left her desk and headed to get herself a cup of tea, she needed to be more careful, failure wasn’t an option.

The Long Afternoon of the Mojave (A Fallout Roleplay)

Just wanted to pop in and say how awesome it is that you guys are still keeping the Fallout RP alive! I certainly miss it!

@Prizrak

Feel free to join us! Always accepting new members :)