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Fandom Fallout: Rise of the Eagle

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jole875

Veni Vidi Vici
Through out the post apocalyptic U.S. several factions have taken up mantels of power. In the east you have factions like the BoS, the Institute, and a few weak but commonly known groups. In the west things are not so black and white. A power struggle is occurring among the big and little factions. A dam is being fought over, a brotherhood is trying to survive, and a group of casinos is flourishing while its robotic overlord resides safely in his tomb. The power houses of the Mojave are dangerous, but ignorant. You have the NCR. A quickly thrown together government with enough corruption to poison ghouls, its borders rapidly growing as it imposed their laws on powerless people. The bureaucrats of the NCR enjoy a good amount of freedom while the farmers they attack and enslave work tirelessly, only able to feed themselves because the NCR heavily taxes anyone who isn't a soldier. Also you have Caesar's Legion. A group of savages turned politicians, their mission to eradicate cultural identity is well founded in the fact that it would end war. Yet nothing they do will allow them to break the choke hold the bear has on them, they are far too primitive to conquer through sheer force. Though they do pose a deep threat against the longevity of the NCR and other would be conquerors, for they do not need to lie to those they wish to conquer. Another faction you have is the Brotherhood of Steel, weaker in this part of the country but no less a threat to functional and fair governments. Their Autocratic Technocracy proves only to threaten people when no other faction is either present, or does not hold political power in the land they are planted. They take weapons, computers, medical technology, and anything with a electrical wire in it, but they say they're protecting the people. Much like the people of the wasteland they must scavenge for anything they can to survive, their production infrastructure is nonexistent, and so they must steal and pillage to survive. Yet throughout the U.S. a single entity resides. It is weak and it is small. Though their past is checkered, they do not hide their actions. They come forth through the wasteland with one goal. Restore American Peace and Prosperity. Their name? The Enclave.


Enclave_Symbol_(FO3).png

Posting Order

jole875 jole875
Aka Aka
Baybell Baybell
Brightside Brightside
Jotato Jotato
R Redbeard
Sir Will Swag Sir Will Swag
TheUnnamedOutcast TheUnnamedOutcast
Blasing Blasing
Stolenskull Stolenskull
 
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Midday, January
Mojave Base Alpha, Enclave

"So you're my Spooks." I had waited patiently for these three agents to show up. After I recognized them they approached my desk where I had been eating lunch. "Orders, and do me a favor and get yourselves a cola out of the fridge by the door, get me one too." Each of them set their papers on the table and turned to retrieve colas from my mini-fridge. With a slight quickness I sat up and looked at their papers. Like always the ordering officer's name was marked out in black. When I leaned back into my chair the first one was turning around with my cola in hand. Fucking Spooks and their hidden benefactor bull shit. "Ah thank you, do you three get to drink cola often?" They one by one chug away at their drinks then shake their heads. "I see, well, under my command each of you will get a taste of the better things the Enclave can offer. As long as you all do as you are told of course." I gave each of them a gentle smile as I skimmed through their orders. I had requested some counter intelligence agents but didn't expect them to arrive for another week. Who ever had sent them was sending them long before I requested them. "You're all under my direct command for the entirety of your time in the Mojave, good. I'll get down to your mission details after I finish my lunch. Have another cola if you'd like." I watched them closely as they got up slowly and got another cola. They were wary and confused by my lax actions. In honesty I didn't like acting this way, but pattern interruption was the only way to get a good read on them. Once they sat back down they watched carefully as I cut and chewwed at my steak. They were used to professionalism and officers that would lie and try to make it seem like they were just like their soldiers. I could see it in every glance I got at them, they were trying to read me like book, but I was written in a different language. I stopped halfway through my lunch and gulped down my cola, this next part kinda hurt me. I dumped the leftovers of my steak into the trash can beside my desk. They looked at me in horror, a soldier would have to use an entire week's ration points just to get what I had thrown away. "Your orders are as follows. Fielder, you will be leaving for Camp McCarran, I want you to get the names and ranks of all officers located within the base. If you get all of the officers work down through the NCOs. I want names, families, friends, I want to know the name of their pets. You have one month. Leave." He looked at me confused but stood from his seat and left. "Cox. you're going to a town called Primm. Its the largest unaffiliated town in the Mojave. I want to know who has taken interests in it and who the town has to offer as a scapegoat. You're keeping your eyes out for older people with a higher education, many years ago I watched deserters leave Navarro to fend for itself. I want you to mark names and occupations of every single person in the town. Once you've finished that I want you to background check every man, woman, and child. You have one month. Leave." I paused and looked at the last man. I smiled at him and he smiled back. "You're the most skilled and intelligent agent they sent me. Your task is also the hardest. Creek you'll be leaving for the strip. Getting you into the inner casinos will be hard so for the time being I want you searching Freeside. Names, jobs, views, what they fucking eat on the average. While you're there I want details on any groups that may be an issue for us, gossip. You have one month. Leave." After Creek left I sat back in my chair and sighed. "Fucking Spooks."​
 
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Pedro Lansberry has finally arrived at the Novac Bar from a long day of journeying south from the strip. He enters the hotel bar and orders a nuka cola and strikes up a conversation the with the bar owner.

The bar owner asked Pedro “So what brings you down from the strip? what kind of stuff did you do up there?” Pedro responded and said, “I worked in the clubs you could say, I was very popular up there but ive decided its time to get out of that place for my own good.”

"Do you know how much a house costs in this area? I'm from the strip and I'm looking for a nice place to settle down and relax for a while.” They responded and told Pedro that there are not many houses around that you can afford. "But you are a pretty small guy, I bet you could sleep in the dumpster behind the hotel if you really wanted." Pedro thought about this and said. "Sounds like a plan, thanks for the idea.

He decides in the meantime to explore the surrounding area before going to his dumpster house for the next few hours for some victims.
 
Standby Protocols Interrupted
Beginning re-initialization of systems. . .

Re-initialization completed.


Initiating playback of latest memory log. . .

Lieutenant Colonel Sanders pushed the Protectron ahead of itself, its feet scuffling underneath itself as the man's rugged voice spoke out. "Sergeant, get that damned pod opened already- the strike will impact in three fucking minutes!" The uniformed man ahead of him was already at the terminal of the Protectron pod, typing furiously, seeming to mutter something as he hit the delete key a few times, before typing once more. The nape of the Sergeant's neck was covered in sweat, the broad-shouldered figure hunched, a dark blotch notable on the right thigh of the man. Royland, the name had been of the man. Promptly, the doors had opened, the machine shoved into the container, turning around to see the Lt. Colonel grabbing the man by the collar of his shirt, the doors beginning to close. The two began to make their way toward the far exit of the basement, darkness abruptly taking over sight.

Beginning release protocols. . .


A cold hiss emitted from the Protectron standby pod as the barely functioning machinery opened, a spark crackling from the canister's terminal. The doors halted three fourths of opening, still enough for the old robotic unit to turn and shuffle through by side-stepping. Once out, it carefully turned, its back facing the Protectron pod, ocular sensors atop itself taking in the sight of the decrepit basement it had been stored within. Concrete had been an obvious thing to see- beams, metal, a few bits and pieces of rebar scattered about that suggested the possibility of damages sustained above the lowest of levels. A sense of worry came over the circuitry- the warnings had mentioned of nuclear assault- weaponry of mass destruction. It knew the results of such a thing.. But, to ever witness it would be another thing. A thing it felt it would be seeing very soon.

Its sensors prodded for further observation- anything that could be of importance. Life, remains of what had been life.. Anything.​
 
Brightside grinned at the feral, crumbled beneath his feet, scoffing at the fact that they still exist. His fresh kill filled the air with that radiated corpse smell. As this scent settled in, he recoiled in disgust. Quickly, he takes a step back and scans his surroundings. He realised something as he combed the area: he was pinned down. Some of his kill's friends caught glimpse of the strange, non-feral bretheren before them. A primal rage brewed between each of the newfound ghouls. One on his left emits a gutteral roar, as if to command the others to charge. Of course, the lesser ones obey, and proceed to sprint at their target. As they reeled up for a strike, they swing into hot air. Brightside was gone. Not 2 meters away from them, the pale ghoul broke into a running frenzy towards goodsprings (at least, where he thought goodsprings was). He had been recommended to travel there for his recently placed hit... but he was never given a face, merely a name. He had been found out by a courier representing some anonymous employer who wanted that man dead. For the life of him, he couldn't find him anywhere. It had taken forever for him to ever get his hands on anyone even remotely close to the name he was assigned, but he kept going. But in his stride, he encountered yet another courier. He delivered a deadline to him. A specific date, to kill the hit. "As you know, the many delays on the completion of your job have completely ruined our operation... If you do not meet this deadline described in the letter, you WILL be hunted." The courier promptly left. His last location to check was goodsprings. A last resort. This was his only chance. And if he failed? Well, he didn't like thinking about that too much. For now, just keep running.
 
Clark sits in his office alone waiting for someone to finally come in and offer him a case. Today has been a slow day and he's getting tired of sitting and waiting for something to happen. Clark looks through his archive previous cases and switches his terminal off. He reaches to the corner of his desktop and plays with an old Zion National Park snow globe before putting it in a drawer underneath his desk. Clark pulls out a Grognak the Barbarian comic from the same drawer and flips through its pages to pass the time.

After a while of sitting in the office Clark decides maybe it's time to hit the strip and enjoy some of local debauchery going on. Heading towards Gomorrah Clark was stopped by a prostitute offering her services Clark responded with "Maybe some other time, I'm here on business." Heading towards the bathroom Clark takes off his coat and pulls out a pen and pad and starts to frustratingly scribble something down before putting the pad into his pocket again.

Clark leaves the bathroom and heads down toward the lower brimstone section of the casino towards the bar. Clark looks at the bartender and asks for a nuka-cola while throwing a few caps on the counter. Clark peeks back up towards the bartender and asks "The girl outside, how much do you think she's worth?" The bartender obviously confused over the question "You mean her call rates?" Clark responses somewhat awkwardly "Yeah that's a nicer way of putting it." Clark learns shes worth about a 150 caps per hour and starts to head back towards the entrance of the casino eyeing the young girl while trying to blend in.

After what seems like 10 minutes Clark decides to go back towards his office and plan some things out for his new found interest.
 
Ragnar Redbeard is standing outside a shop, punching a chem addict bloody for trying to sell me cheap broken down parts and attempting to steal from me. Deciding to drag him out to the wastes to teach him a few things to make sure he does not repeat that mistake. Ragnar proceeds to take his bag and leave the the outskirts of New vegas after the bad time he had there.

Heading south with no directions or plans in mind, he prepared for the journey and what the wastelands had to offer. On his way out, a few miles he stumbled up on some dead radscorpions and decided to take a round about trip more safely to not attract unwanted attention. After a day of walking he found a broken down hut which seems deserted. Seeing it had defense set up but broken messy interior. Most importantly it had good cover and before going to sleep he consumed one ration while covering himself in scrap and loose stuff.

After waking up he started walking and came up on another fresh corpse of a radscorpion. Deciding to take a side route in order to attempt not encountering and worst case possible, getting jumped.
 
It's been many years since the destruction of the Enclave Oil Rig. I managed to escape with some lab tech, my Enclave Hazmat suit and a map of the vaults on the west coast. Since then I have settled down in a quaint little town by the name of Novac. I quickly set up a makeshift lab to continue my research on Genetic Engineering to complete my master plan. I know what I need to put my plan into action, I just need some help to get it. I make myself comfortable near the entrance to the lobby of the Novac hotel and wait for someone who is just crazy enough to join help. After a few hours of waiting I hear a bloodcurdling scream from the lobby, I go investigate, and see a man with a gas mask exit the building, covered in blood. "Hello there good Sir" He turned to look at me, but didn't respond. "I need a hired gun to help me with a little scavenging mission, and you seem like just the right person for the job." I continued, while motioning towards several structures to the southeast. "See that? That's Clark Field. It's an old Pre-war chemical plant. Completely overrun with Golden Geckos. I need you to help me get in there, find the nest, and retrieve several of their unhatched eggs. You will be compensated handsomely for your efforts, once the job is done." Needless to say he accepted my offer, and we began walking to Clark field.
 
I woke up this morning to find an eviction notice plastered on the door to my hotel room. Guess they got sick of me always being late with the rent. I decided to pay a visit to Jeanie May Crawford in the hotel lobby. One thing led to another, and well, did you know one of those old Rocket toys fits perfectly inside the human anus? Well, if you jam it in there hard enough. Needless to say she wouldn't be doing any more evicting anytime soon, and I probably couldn't stay in Novac, so I had to get out of town. On my way out, I was noticed by an old man standing outside the lobby. "Hello there good Sir." He said. "I need a hired gun to help me with a little scavenging job, and you seem like just the right person for the job." He continued, while pointing towards a decaying series of structures in the distance. "See that? That's Clark Field. It's an old Pre-war chemical plant. Completely overrun with Golden Geckos. I need you to help me get in there, find the nest, and retrieve several of their unhatched eggs. You will be compensated handsomely for your efforts, once the job is done." That last part really sealed the deal, plus, maybe he'd even let me keep an egg or two to raise as my own. After packing up my shit, we set off southeast towards Clark Field.
 
"Good fuck, what time is it..?" I groggily sit up and begin to survey my surroundings, still residing in the abandoned schoolhouse. Eh, what can I do? No money to pay rent anywhere, barely enough money to feed myself. At least Trudy was generous enough to let me stay here rent free until I could get on my feet. I stand up and begin to stretch, then step outside. The positioning of the sun telling me it's sometime around noon. I grab a cigarette from the pack in my side pouch, light it, and take a long drag.
I begin my walk towards the Goodsprings General Store, my bag of salvage from last night strapped firmly to my back. I finish my cigarette on the storefront porch, then stroll inside to see Chet in the seat beside the door, per usual. "Hey, Brandon. What do you have for me today?" I let out a long sigh as I remove my bag of salvage from my back. "Not much of value, Chet, not much of value.." I empty the bag onto his counter. A vacuum, some scrap metal, scrap electronics, and a few empty Nuka-Cola bottles fall out. "Ehhh... Not bad, I'll give you 45 caps for the collective." Chet said skeptically. I groan as I shake his hand, contempt, but simultaneously dissatisfied with what little I've earned.
He tosses me a small sack of caps and I head out. I begin to walk towards the Prospector Saloon, lighting up another cigarette on my path. I walk into the saloon, with hopes of playing some billiard, and hear a quarrel near the bar.
"I'm done being nice. If you don't hand Ringo over soon, I'm going to get my friends and we're burning this town to the ground, got it?" says the voice of a rather rough-sounding male. "We'll keep that in mind. Now, if you're not going to buy something, get out." replied Trudy, rather sternly. I catch a glimpse of the man as he exits the saloon. Man, i thought as I set up the billiard table, I wonder what crawed up his ass.. I then grabbed a pool que from the wall, and proceed to play the game.
I finish my game of billiard, thank Trudy for her hospitality, then stroll outside, going god knows where, looking for my next meal in scrap and salvage.
 
"Clive Kimchi, report to Pearls barracks, Immediately" blared over the intercom, waking me up. I walked out of the barracks , telling my dog Handsome Dan to shut the fuck up and stop barking. As i walked to the barracks everyone looked over to me. It was not common for pearl to call anyone into her barracks nowadays, but even more so because it was me. I was never assigned anything. As i climbed up the stairs past the bungalows' my heart started racing, I had not talked to pearl since i first came here as a kid. As I knocked on the door to Pearl's barracks, She immediately answered, and a homely smell rushed into my nose as she opened the door. When I entered everything looks as it did all those years ago. She sat down on one of the couches place in the center of the room, gesturing for me to sit in the couch across the coffee table in front of her. As I sat down, she explained me the situation. She told me of a plan that would be able to set us as a valuable ally to the Enclave, putting us on the table to negotiate working with them, as well as being able to strike fear into the hearts of the BoS , NCR, and Legion if need be. Pearl told me to keep this plan of hers as secret as possible, and to only bring along one of the boomers along with me.

I decided that that the best person for the job would be to bring Terbish along with me. well actually not really because he was the best person, but more because he was the only one who I was friends with and could trust, So i got Handsome Dan and went over to Terbish and told him the situation, and to be ready to set out.
 
"God Damnit, Stop biting me..." I mumble, Dirt in my mouth, Before jumping up and staring down at my leg as a mangy coyote continues gnawing on my leg. "Get the fuck outta here!" I shout, The pest running off as I stumble up with a migraine ringing through my skull. Stumbling forward I manage to click on the radio, With a little feedback it comes whizzing to life, Playing some old world song singing through the radio. I shake the sand out of my hair as I walk down the road to Goodsprings, Seeing one of the convicts sneer at me as he walks past one of the old rusted trucks.

"Mornin' Pete." I mumble as I click off my radio, Walking into the Prospector Saloon. I buy two bottles of whiskey, Tuning out Trudy droning on about the damn Powder Bastards before I leave, Walking down towards Jean Skydiving. Ignoring the baking sun of the beautiful Mojave, I make my way out again into the wastes to pick over the skeleton for a few measly caps.
 
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Aka Aka You rolled 20 , 7

Pedro wanders around Novac for sometime before finding a large man sleeping inside a ruined car. Pedro can see the man's bag, not that one, the bag is a makeshift rucksack that couldn't hold more than a few medium items. What does Pedro do?

Baybell Baybell You rolled 4, 12

As AIBA scans its surroundings it finds another protectron across the room. It is stomping over the dusty floor towards AIBA, obviously it is assessing a disturbance in its habitat. AIBA at this time does not know if other robots are hostiles or allies. What does AIBA do?

Brightside Brightside You rolled 20, 10

As Brightside is running he spots the remnants of a campfire, he sees a body and a backpack beside it. He can't see if the person is alive or if the bag has anything in it, but Brightside does know that its fresh, whatever it is. While the ferals may forget about him soon enough, is iot smart to stop? What does Brightside do?

Jotato Jotato You rolled 3,8

While Clark is walking back to his office he passes an alley. Out of the corner of his eye he sees two thugs beating the ever living shit out of someone. Clark can't tell who, but he knows that gratitude isn't something to pass up on chance. What does Clark do?

R Redbeard You rolled 16, 9

After Ragnar took the side route he saw two figures in the distance. Not large enough to be mutants, but Human figures nonetheless. Often people don't use side routes unless they're trying to hide something or are trying to move quickly. What does Ragnar do?

Sir Will Swag Sir Will Swag TheUnnamedOutcast TheUnnamedOutcast You rolled 20, 12

While Johnathan and Adam are making their way to Clark Field they spot an injured coyote off to the left of the trail. It's trying to get itself back onto its feet, but is too injured to do so on its own. Beside the coyote are 3 others, all dead. Among them also is a dead gecko. What does Johnathan and Adam do?

Blasing Blasing You rolled 2,12

While Brandon is walking on the road he has no time to react as a man garbed a prison uniform bursts from behind some rocks with a knife and sprints at him. The man is obviously high off his ass as he almost trips several times. What does Brandon do?
 
I stop and look at where he is and look around, and I do not see anyone. so I then decide to walk up to the guy and leave a note saying "The legion will burn this town down in two days. You will decide whether tell people or run. we are watching you and we kill cowards." I decide to not take anything the person has as to not raise suspicion and then begin walking to the town store to get some important things for the next part of his plan. You see, I like to take things easy, So why should I kill this guy when I can get the town to do it for me? If the guy tells the town something like this is about to happen and it does not they will surely kill him for forcing them to expend so much effort to protect the town from nothing. And if he chooses to run that will make things easier for me later down the road. This is only the beginning of my plans. jole875 jole875
 
AIBA attempted to observe the Protectron from the safer distance, ending up seeing nothing else notable. With the attempt of observation made- at least able to confirm it as a moving Protectron- the more sentient of the two moved to approach, promptly being directed to by the Protectron's slow voice, a warning to clarify credentials. For a moment, AIBA paused, realizing it was being viewed as an unidentified human. Promptly, AIBA uttered its serial number and attempted to speak what it could remember as its prototype credentials. A paused silence held in the basement, before the monotone Protectron responded.

"Sorry for the in-con-vien-ence, sir. Last orders given two hundred and four years, sixty two days, 16 hours... ago. What are curr-ent orders, sir?"

AIBA thought for a moment, finally deciding upon the objective to give to the definely coded machine. "Current orders: Follow prototype model "AIBA" and ensure safety of unit, issued by Lieutenant Colonel Sanders." It told, the voice much more fluid, in its speech, a slightly lighter pitch.

"Orders ac-knowledged." The deeper-pitched machine replied. "Ready to depart."

With that, AIBA began to move to where the basement entrance had been, the second Protectron following at the same, thudding, slow pace.

jole875 jole875
 
Brightside grinned at the feral, crumbled beneath his feet, scoffing at the fact that they still exist. His fresh kill filled the air with that radiated corpse smell. As this scent settled in, he recoiled in disgust. Quickly, he takes a step back and scans his surroundings. He realised something as he combed the area: he was pinned down. Some of his kill's friends caught glimpse of the strange, non-feral bretheren before them. A primal rage brewed between each of the newfound ghouls. One on his left emits a gutteral roar, as if to command the others to charge. Of course, the lesser ones obey, and proceed to sprint at their target. As they reeled up for a strike, they swing into hot air. Brightside was gone. Not 2 meters away from them, the pale ghoul broke into a running frenzy towards goodsprings (at least, where he thought goodsprings was). He had been recommended to travel there for his recently placed hit... but he was never given a face, merely a name. He had been found out by a courier representing some anonymous employer who wanted that man dead. For the life of him, he couldn't find him anywhere. It had taken forever for him to ever get his hands on anyone even remotely close to the name he was assigned, but he kept going. But in his stride, he encountered yet another courier. He delivered a deadline to him. A specific date, to kill the hit. "As you know, the many delays on the completion of your job have completely ruined our operation... If you do not meet this deadline described in the letter, you WILL be hunted." The courier promptly left. His last location to check was goodsprings. A last resort. This was his only chance. And if he failed? Well, he didn't like thinking about that too much. For now, just keep running.
 
While on the way back to his office Clark notices someone looking very suspect, the man seemed too clean and groomed to be a wastelander. Getting closer to his office he hears a yell down an alleyway Clark peeks down the alleyway seeing two men stomping and beating a younger man in a corner. Clark pulls his 45. Out from his coat pocket and puts it behind his back and begins to walk down the alley way. And announces his presence to the couple of thugs "Hey what seems to be the problem here?" They both jump up away from the guy they're beating up, shocked and terrified of Clark's appearance. "Nothing bro, we just dealing with this peace of shit on our turf. New guy comes into town acting like he gonna own the place. How about you fuck off man, we busy." Clark scans the scene as best as he could only seeing that one of the two is wielding a blunt object but couldn't make out what the other is holding. Not wanting to have a conflict in town Clark says "How about you guys just leave him there, you've already beat the living shit out of the poor guy." They look at Clark confused and slowly approach him, leaving the beaten man unattended . "And maybe you'll make it worth our while. Haven't we seen you around?" Clark getting visibly agitated that they might know about his past "Maybe you have, I do hang around these parts of town, now I suggest you run along before I shoot you and eat your buddy's liver" Clark pulls his gun out from behind his back and points it towards them

Instead of backing away they started walking towards Clark at a faster pace. Obviously brandishing their weapons as they get closer. He finally distinguishes that one of them is holding a lead pipe and the other is holding a small steak knife. Thinking that the pipe would probably do more damage to him then the small knife he aims his gun towards the thug with the pipe and pulls trigger shooting him in the chest. The thug falls down to the ground dying instantly, his friend obviously shaken by watching his friend get gunned down starts to charge towards Clark. "God damnit you should have just ran." Clark whispers under his breath and pulls the trigger again shooting the knife wielding thug in the leg before he gets too close, continuing to move forward the thug proceeds to attempt to stab Clark but is thrown off balance and falls to the ground.

Clark thinking the thug would finally listen walks up behind the thug and points his gun point blank at the back of his head "Please drop the knife I don't want this to get ugly." The thug jumps up in an adrenaline rushed panic and slashes Clark's arm causing it to bleed slightly and begins to come towards him again. Clark aims his gun at the thugs chest and blasts him the thug drops like a rock and Clark proceeds to pick up his small steak knife and put it in his coat pocket. Clark turns to the guy who was getting beaten and takes a closer look at him and check if he's doing alright. He's a younger guy, around the age of 22. He's bruised and beaten, a few cuts and bumps where he's been hit. He's wearing blue jeans, a black leather jacket, and his hair is in a strange style. Clark lightly kicks the kids leg and says "Hey kid you still alive down there?" The kid nods and rolls to his stomach to try and push himself up, it doesn't work. He only falls helplessly back down. You see a strange design on his jacket but its hard to make out. Clark looks closer at the back of the jacket and sees a green viper like snake. Its in a hostile position with its fangs ready to strike. Clark helps the kid get on his feet leaning him towards a dumpster to make sure he has his footing "Thanks man, those chem heads thought a Tunnel Snake would just get robbed like some chump."

Clark amused at seeing another gang starting to pop up chuckles and says "A Tunnel Snake? I would have confused you for one of the King's boys from Freeside. Anyway what are you doing in the strip?" The kid starts to explain "Boss brought us here to-" but before the young man can continue you hear a sudden burst of foot steps behind you coming from outside the alley. The young man stopped his explanation with an,"Oh shit." Clark sighs and turns around to see two young men in King outfits, one armed with a baseball bat, and the other with a switch blade. "Fucking got us one of them Tunnel I'm uncultured the King was talking about. How're you doin Tunnel I'm uncultured?" Clark slightly worn out from this last fight says "What's going on between the Kings and these um Tunnel Snakes?" The two kings look at Clark and start walking towards him and the kid. "Tunnel I'm uncultured come into Freeside acting like they owns the place. Worse than the fucking squatters do." Clark sighs "I'm pretty sure we can resolve this peacefully it'd be a shame if either of us got hurt. I mean look this kid has already gotten his licks today and I'm sure he's learned his lesson." Before the two Kings got too close an group of footsteps started approaching began to approach behind Clark and the kid "Yeah you should listen to the guy, don't want anyone to get hurt." Clark peeks over his shoulder seeing four men with blue pants, black leather jackets, and hair styles mirroring the young man he saved. Unlike the Kings the four men are armed with shotguns and one has an assault carbine.

Clark looks back at the two Kings "More Tunnel Snakes I presume? These two wanted to keep beating your buddy while he's down." The Tunnel Snakes raise their guns but before they can start shooting the Kings turn and run away. "Fucking bitches. Always talking shit. Yo Danny what the fuck were you doin out here? You know the rules, don't go alone don't go unarmed." The young man beside you limped over to his friends. "I was just going out to get some Nuka Colas when these chem heads tried robbing me. I gave them one hell of a fight, but they beat shit out of me. This guy showed up out of nowhere and gunned them down." The leader turns to you,"That true? You help out Danny?" Clark puts his gun back in his coat pocket and puts his hand out for a handshake "Yeah, Clark Duncan Private Investigator, and you are?" The Tunnel Snake firmly shakes Clark's hand. "Butch, Butch DeLoria, leader of the Tunnel Snakes."

jole875 jole875
 
Clyde is standing guard at the entrance of the enclave outpost. he is lying completely still under the body of a dead cazador, watching the road to make sure nobody comes near the outpost.
 
I check the wounds of the coyote. I can't see much from where I currently am. It snaps at me as I try to get close. I move over to the gecko, tear off a piece of meat, and offer it to the coyote. It snatched the meat from me, limped a few feet away, and began to chew on it, ignoring my presence. I approach the coyote, stimpack in hand, and inject the coyote with it. It turned around and bit me, before lying down and becoming incapacitated. I take a look at it's wounds and see that it's still in rough shape. I inject it with another stimpack as it passes out. I notice it's a male. I decide to name him, ___ (inserting name here when I fucking think of something not gay)
 
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As Brandon was walking by towards Primm, a powder ganger leaps out from behind a rock, brandishing a knife, obviously high off his ass, and begins to sprint towards him. As Brandon attempts to sidestep the Powder Ganger, the doped up thug is able to land his knife into Brandon's stomach, narrowly avoiding any vital organs. Brandon pushes the ganger back slightly out of shock, draws his bat, and swings harder than he has ever swung before, making direct contact with the ganger's temple. A satisfying crack is heard, and the ganger drops to the ground, blood running from his nose and mouth. Brandon quickly loots the corpse of his now fallen foe, and turns up with 255 dollars worth of NCR currency, a knife, an unloaded 9mm Pistol, and a Nuka Cola. Deciding he should get out of there while the gettin's good, Brandon hightails it towards Goodsprings, praying Doc Mitchell isn't busy.
 
As the hired help attends to the injured coyote, I start moving closer to the possibly deceased animals. I observe the deceased gecko and check to see if any blood or ovaries are still able to be harvested for research. I take out a knife and carve out the internal Egg sack and preserve them for genome research. I then use a sterile needle to collect around 10 milileters of gecko blood. After I finished my preservation techniques on the bio samples, I examine the dead coyotes for any useful materials or bio-samples to speed up my research. After a quick examination, it is reveled that all of the dead members of the pack were female. I then repeat the extraction techneqes that were used on the Gecko to a slightly less successful degree. I was able to remove all of the ovaries from the creatures except for one that was damaged on removal. I only had one Jar of bio-gell left so I was only able to preserve one set of coyote ovaries. As to not waste any of the other ovaries, I start a small fire and began to cook any of the edible parts for myself and my hired help.
 
I wake up from the dumpster the next morning to hear screaming and yelling coming from the hotel area. I decide to goes check it out and after a while of walking, I find the same man that I had given the note to screaming about the legion coming to burn the town down. I decide to step in and say "Whats this about the legion coming for the town? The man responds with "I found this note when i woke up this morning! the fucking legion is going to burn the town down!". I respond with "Huh, let me see that note" He hands me the note and after reading it for a minute I hand it back to him and says "That sure looks like legion handwriting to me, guess you guys better think of a plan." After this, I decide to walk away to look around the town and scout out who else lives there. He finds a small farm on the outskirts of the town, some drunk people walking around, and some posters up asking for help tending someone's farm. I decide to take the poster and find the person looking for the help. After finding the farm I met the person looking for help and they explain that he and his family need some Broc flower. I tell him that I will help him out and go find some of the flowers he needs in exchange for a place to stay with a roof for a couple of days. He agrees and I begin walking back to the town.
 

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