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Futuristic The Blight (ALWAYS accepting)

Uncultured

Dreamer/Cynic

"This is Pleasanton radio checking in here, we have a classic we'd like to play for you on this fine morning"




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The sun, shining through the thinned ozone layer, beamed down upon the smoggy city of Pleasanton, reflecting off of the tin rooftops of the shanty and drying the slight dew that had settled upon the city. Merchants, out of bed at an early hour, had gorged themselves at the diners in town and had emerged renewed for another day of haggling and endless bartering, and even at eight in the morning, their shouts echoed through the streets as they brought prices up or down, depending on if they were buying or selling.


Buggies and motorcycles buzzed down the main roads and children dodged through alleyways escaping people they had stolen from, and through the center of town strode a few Raiders in full armor, striding confidently among the motley villagers, heading towards the capital building where the capsule's entrance sat.


Laughter could be heard over the sounds of the city, most of it came from the Broken Bottle Bar, where the Red Mask had already started drinking, even at this early hour, and the smells of everything from sewage to freshly cooked ham and eggs could be smelt upon the air.


Gunshots cracked over the ambient noise of the city as the guards upon the wall took out the occasional Reaver that stumbled towards the walls through the ruins of the old city, and with the coming of day, life in all of it's ugliness and beauty, had started once again.


In the city hall, the bounty board flashed electronic messages and the occasional gun for hire strode in, taking notes and seeking fortune, and beyond the board, beyond the desks and rooms where clerics toiled, an elevator shaft sat, ready to bring workers into the depths of the capsule where scientists and technicians worked endlessly to improve technology. The Raiders had woken from their slumber within the capsule and were beginning their daily training and the sounds of grunts and impacts could be heard from the gym and the sparring pits where Raiders tested their skill against one another.


The day is April second, 2061, the sun is shining, blood has already been spilled, and the world belongs to Reavers. Same old shit you could say.
 
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Jacinto's eyes, droopy and tired, had remained active and open for an entire twenty four hour period and he could feel the results of his extended day as he fought to stay awake within the low light of the Broken Bottle Bar. The bar was filled with noise from boisterous (and very intoxicated) Red Mask members within and the sounds of the harpies who flocked to the degenerates blended together with the noises of revelry creating an ambient mixture of bland static that droned against the tired ears of the Raider.


This wasn't the time to be feeling groggy though, and Jacinto, instead of allowing himself to fall further into the dream world, squeezed his eyes in frustration as he knew his condition was a dangerous one to be in. It would be one thing entirely if he were merely getting a drink before heading home, but on this day he had business to attend to, and without his armor, rifle and sweeper he was more vulnerable than ever. This however, was the inevitable price of trying to blend into a crowd. A man in full Raider armor stuck out like a nail in a sideboard, and if he had chosen to don his armor he would be discovered in a heartbeat, something that Jacinto couldn't risk.


The old soldier signaled at the server to his two O'Clock and the man behind the wooden bar returned to him with a shot of brown liquor. Instead of picking up the shot glass and emptying it into his gullet, Jacinto eyeballed it for half a minute. Looking far too deeply into the glass as if it were hypnotizing him, bringing him deep within a trance like embrace, gripping his psyche with it's strange amber glow. After thirty seconds of staring down at the alcohol, drawing a look of curiosity from the bartender, Jacinto finally took the glass in his hand, and in one smooth motion he knocked it back into his mouth, embracing the bitter liquid's aftertaste as he placed the shot glass back upon the bar.


As he swallowed the shot, pounding the glass back upon the wooden surface before him, the door at the front of the Broken Bottle swung open from the center. In the astute peripheral vision of Jacinto, the Raider could tell that the man responsible for opening the door was quite large in frame, imposing even, and he walked with a stride of arrogance, confidence and danger.


The man strode towards the bar and sat to the left of Jacinto. Slowly and with measured purpose, the man took off his wide brimmed hat, revealing a web of scar tissue that ran from the top of his forehead to the back his head. In the estimation of the Raider, the scar appeared to be the result of some kind of burn, chemical perhaps, but Jacinto was no doctor and within several seconds he had accepted the facts and ended his train of thought regarding the origins of the man's burn marks. What was clear however, was that this man had come from a rough upbringing and had climbed his way to the top of the food chain. Where teeth had been lost, gold had been used as filler, and contrasting with his scars and missing teeth were the fine threads of a gentleman. At the nape of his blazer's color, the hint of a tattoo was visible and within the eyes of the large man lay a cool and calm anger and violence that seemed to boil just low enough to prevent constant outbursts.


"Thomas said you were reliable, I hope you know..... that if you fuck with me...... you'll die screaming boy." said the slum lord in a low gravelly tone that was corrupted by years of cigar smoke and liquor.


"You'll get what you pay for" came the calm reply of Jacinto as he mulled over his next move, signalling the bartender once more to replenish his empty shot glass.
 
Jackson was talking in his sleep(again) passed out from a round of drinks earlier. He sat in the broken bottle, a place he rarely frequented. As he slept something woke him up, the sound of voices. As he slowly opened his eyes he saw them the LT, a man, and a guy sitting at a table behind the LT. The man had a mask, brown with red stripes, covered in dents and scratches, he also was trying to conceal the gun in his duster. Jackson got up slowly and walked over to the man. Putting his hand on the man's shoulder he said in a happy tone "Want to play a game of pazaak?". "Go away you fucking drunk." The man snarled. "I was trying to be nice, put away your peice and walk out that door. Before I do it for you." Jackson said flatly. Instead of replying with words the man stood up and drew his gun, pointing it at Jackson's forehead.
 
Travis woke up at his bunk inside the capsule. He donned his amour and got ready for the day. He checked at capsule command on the lookout for major operations. "Hmm, nothing new." He said to himself. The next operation wasn't for some time. He walked out and began his daily workout and practice. It included several miles, plenty of push-ups and sit-ups, sniping practice. His communications device flashed. He checked the notification.


The bounty board had just updated with this weeks stock of missions. Travis made his way to town hall and scrolled through the board looking for something that interested him. There was a bounty for Larry Price, wanted for several murders. He was known to be in the old subway station with his gang. "I'm going to need help. I can't take a whole gang on my own while inside." Travis admitted to himself. He put his name on the mission and sent a alert to any available unscheduled raiders.
 
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Sasha seemed to lose all track of time as she kept walking slowly behind a band of Raiders, wrists bound by metal chains and cuffs. Her blonde hair whipped wildly in the harsh desert winds while her hood kept her face mostly covered, jade eyes staring out to the slowly approaching Pleasanton. The Raiders were kind enough to go at a steady pace to bring her to their town. They did not seem to have a plan for what to do with her when they finally arrived but for the most part, they were good to her.


One of the Raiders walked up beside her with a canteen of water and opened it for her. "Hey...need to drink something," he encouraged, keeping it in front of her at a good distance as her jade eyes simply looked towards the mask. "Do you want some?" he asked again before watching Sasha nod her head slowly. Tilting the jug down, a soft stream of water dripped into Sasha's mouth, making her cough a little before drinking the rest with no problem. The small river stopped as she sighed deeply to the cool liquid rushing down her parched throat. Offering a small nod to the Raider, the Raider nodded back and walked back to the company, the commanding officer still glancing over the elaborate daggers taken from the 'hostage', shaking his head to himself through his helmet. "She took down all of them by herself...with these?" he said to himself, looking up to see the gates of Pleasanton just in the distance. "Raiders coming in plus one! Open the gates!" called out the commander.
 
Vini walked slowly down a cracked and broken road, travelling with a small caravan heading towards the city. One of the three cargo trucks carried a tightly bound package, covered with a large tarp to hide what was inside. When he had first joined up with the caravan, his terms were simple; In exchange for them transporting his cargo to Pleasanton, no questions asked, he would provide a little extra protection for merchants caravan. The wastes being a dangerous place, and the merchants being of a sensible sort, they accepted, having just enough spare room to fit the extremely heavy cargo inside. And so Vini walked, no words being exchanged between him and the others. The only sounds were the hum of the engines, the rustling of cargo, and the whistling of the wind.


Vini's view of his path was not the same as the merchants. He wore atop his head a smooth plated helmet, with two clear circles through which he saw, and two tubes on either side winding from the back of his neck to in front of his mouth, connecting to the air filtration system there. His helmet was similar to a raiders, but far worse in practice. The technology was outdated, and much of it damaged. So as Vini walked, his view was tinted green, providing a slight night vision to help him see into the dark depths of the cloudy wastes. A few bits of data would flicker on the screen, attempting to detect far off movement, but it was rarely accurate, and as such it served only as a hindrance for Vini. His chest was protected by a sleeveless leather coat, which continued down to his upper legs. He wore leather gloves, which provided a slight amount of resistance to the motions of his hand as he clenched and released his fist, and as he tapped his fingers against his thigh. The black tint of his clothing would have rendered him almost invisible from a distance, if it was not for the green glow of his eyes. From a distance, all you would see of him would be two green circles, staring lifeless back at you. He was a rather intimidating figure.


In a holster at his side lay Vini's .44 Smith & Wesson handgun. It was simple weapon, old and worn, but it served Vini well. Due to it's common failures and mishaps, he fondly named it Lucky, an obscure reference to the old world game of Russian Roulette. Two weapons were strapped to his back, one being a pump action grenade launcher, and the other a .357 lever-action rifle. The lever action rifle was named Makellos, translating to flawless in German. Vini was yet to name his grenade launcher. His weapons were not modified, and would do little or nothing to a raider, or a mech, but versus common bandits and reavers, they were more than enough.


The party continued on for a time, but came to a halt, under the orders of the caravan leader. He said a few words beyond Vini's hearing to his crew, then walked over to Vini, "So... we are about thirty minutes from Pleasanton, so I jus' wanted to make a couple of things clear." He seemed a little nervous as he talked, and waited a moment for Vini's reply, and upon hearing none, he continued, "We'll drop off your cargo just inside the city, but if any trouble come up, we aren't covering you. Anything happens, we tell them it straight- We tell 'em we don' know you. Understood?"


Vini nodded slightly, his voice heard primarily from a small speaker on the outside of his helmet, giving him a harsh, and once more menacing tone, "Crystal clear."
 
A bullet was shot. It echoed through the air in a soft silence. Another one followed it, and than another. A glowing blue eye peaked through a scope. It zoomed in and scanned the area slowly. The ruined city was crumbling; a place for hiding foes. A head peaked over the edge of a fallen building, it's movements cautious and alert. The scope followed it, with a silver finger pressed lightly against the trigger. The blue eye watched carefully. Finally, the Reaver came out into the open wasteland; twitching endlessly. Her finger squeezed the trigger. A bullet cut through the air and into the side of it's head. Crimson blood splattered on the wall behind it like an abstract painting. She raised her head and scanned the area for any more movement. A light blue screen was her gateway to the outside world.


When her sensors detected nothing, she raised her underside from off of the dusty building roof. Her armored boots lay flat against the ground as she stood. A sniper rifle was gripped in her two hands with the suppressor pointed downwards. She reached back with the gun in hand and clicked it into a special slot on her back. She walked along the edge of the roof like a guard dog protecting a junkyard before leaping down. Kat landed swiftly on the ground below with a single hand pressed against the dirt. She began walking through the wasteland slowly and silently. Occasionally, a body of a fallen Reaver lay on the pavement, but she payed no mind to it. Her glowing blue eyes stared towards Pleasanton in the distance.


It wasn't long before Kat stood outside of Pleasanton's walls. She was standing not too far from a nearby group of Raiders beginning to enter. Kat was perched on a crumbled rooftop, watching them silently. Her blue eyes zoomed in on each individual. Their names and some information appeared on the upper left of the screen as she glanced from person to person. She stopped when a woman in chains came into view. Her eyes zoomed in especially on her, seeing a Raider pour a waterfall of water into her mouth. Kat saw a Raider look behind him. He saw the mysterious individual and a pair of glowing blue eyes watching them. He nudged his comrade next to him.


"Hey. Do you see that-" He looked back, but the silver figure was gone. The man he nudged glanced around in confusion and flashed him a strange look.


"I don't see anything."


"I saw a figure in the distance. With glowing blue eyes." The man next to him shrugged and turned his attention back to the gate of Pleasanton.


"It was probably nothing." He muttered in response, unaware that the figure had grown closer. But was hidden from view. She continued to watch and wait.


(@LadyMatsudai Hope you don't mind I made two of the Raiders NPC's :) I can always edit it if you like.)
 
"That's not a good idea, freind." Jackson said flatly. "Jus whatcha gonna do about it?" the red mask asked fingering his sawn off shotgun, nervously. "I'll break three of your ribs, and add a dent to your mask." Jackson replied almost cheerfully.


Jackson suddently ducked and jabbed the mask in the ribs, wrapped his arms around the mask's waste and flung the mask over his shoulder. The mask landed and cracked Jacinto's table in half starting a bar fight. " SORRY L.T" Jackson yelled smashing a bottle and handing it to the liutenant.
 
Dwayne woke up with a start, his body was covered in a cold sweat. The same dream, every night. He sat up and looked at Eliza, she sat their quietly, but her eye was focused on him, a small whine came from the machine. It was the optics of the eye zooming in, probably reading his racing heart, but he knew her better than that. "Shut up Liz, Im fine." He got up and took a rag from the bucket of water and wiped his face and arms off before getting dressed. Everything blurred a little, he was still drunk from the night before, his head hurt. He knew how to fix that, he reached into the cabinet and grabbed a warm beer, placed it on the edge of his dresser and smacked it down, the top popping off easily, and started to drink the day away. He strapped the old .45 to his side before making is way toward the door. Eliza's optics followed him, another whine. "I'm going out Liz, I wont cause trouble."


The manuals for the Mech suits say that they're just machines. Anyone with a sane mind knew that, but Dwayne had lost his years ago. So it was absurd that Dwayne talked to his mech as if it were his sister, but every day he saw a little bit more of her in it. Maybe it was her ghost, more likely it was his sanity leaving. He'd used the money from his time as an NSF operative to buy a small shack on the edge of town, but he built a larger garage type to house Eliza, so she sat there every day.


Dwayne stumbled toward town, still drinking the warm beer as he walked toward the bar. Something had caught his blind eye on the job board and he turned. He walked toward the board and stared at Larry Price's familiar face, "You god damn sonovabitch." He looked at the name of the man who'd taken the job. "Travis Lawson, I know the name. Better freshen up." Dwayne reached into the lower cargo pocket of his pants and pulled out an auto-injector syringe. The mixture was a quick fix for drunkiness, it'd been common for medics in the NSF to carry them, the troopers had a habit of drinking after victories, however a shot from this and a few minutes later the soldier would be wired, and sober. Some didn't react so well to the mixture, angry that their buzz, and whatever high they had from any drugs, was suddenly gone. He jammed it to his thigh like it was an epi-pen, and a few seconds later he no longer had his headache, the nausea he had from the previous night's drinking was gone and he was focused.


He hated every second of sobriety.


Dwayne made his way to Travis, and looked him over, "Lawson. I wanna help with the Price bounty. I dont want money, I just want to put the bullet in Price's head. I owe him that much." Dwayne made a gesture toward the left side of his face, "He left me with this before I parted ways with the NSF, I've got a Mech."


The left side of Dwayne's face was a leathery scar from a burn. His left arm was burned down to the elbow, and from there small patches were burned down to his hand where his Pinky, and ring finger was just as leathery as his face. His left eye was pale, as if he was blind, but both eyes stared straight at Travis Lawson.


@ryanpk200
 
"A mech will definitely be a nice addition to take Larry Price down." Travis replied. "I'm heading out soon to scout the subway station. I'll send you my findings later." He said in his even tone. Travis reached out and lightly shaked his hand. Travis went out to the garage and wheeled a motorcycle down to the gate. As he left the town he nodded to a group of other raiders that had entered a town with a hostage.


He pluged the location into his map and drove off. The abandoned station was 30 miles away. He drove 28 miles which took him a hour then walked the next two. Travis had done his research before investigating the place. The subway had taken advantage of the natural cave systems and built the track into them. It was know to be one of the largest subway systems on the planet. Travis reached a maintenance tunnel and activated his helmet's night-vision and walked in. He walked for 20 minutes though the dark unchanging tunnel till he reached a t-section. One path seemed to go up and the other down. He went up. He reached the opening and was on a decently high platform overlooking the cave the subway had been built into. Lary Price and his gang was in the bottom area around a campfire.


He turned on his helmet camera and wanted to record everything for possible review later on. The platform was at a ok height for sniping but would be found quickly. The gang seemed to use this area as a food store. He nicked a few bread loaves and several apples. He looked around and recorded the cavern. There was a sleeping bag up on the platform. "Must be a guard. It's looks used..." He said to himself. Suddenly he heard a yell as a man charged from behind a pile of boxes. "Guys we have a intruder up here! The man yelled. In the struggle he managed to kick the man off the side. It was too late. The whole cave had heard them. The whole gang had runned up one of the tunnels and Travis had ran down the tunnel. They had met in the t-section. "Oh come on!" Travis yelled. "Get him!" The gang yelled. He ran for the tunnels entrance.
 
It wasn’t yet noon and already the day was proving to be stifling and oppressive, the air rich with the sort of dry heat that stuffs into the lungs and draws perspiration upon the brow. Truth be told, it was on days like this, when the sun proved to be little more than an unholy mistress, that the blonde oft found herself cursing her choice in garb. Well, not exactly her attire itself, but more so the coloring of said outfit. Never let it be said that black was the color of champions; after all, it didn’t much allow for any semblance of reprieve from the heat. If anything, the color only drew it nearer like a moth to a flame. Or so the woman told herself. But hey, whatever helped her sleep at night, right?


Nonetheless, the weather would not deter the blonde from her goal. Not today at least. She had, after all, been planning this escapade for far too long to simply let a little bit of sunshine – ok, so there was a lot of sunshine, but she was trying not to focus on that – hinder everything she had been working towards. All the forethought and planning invested into this endeavor, far more than the woman was used to divulging in, guaranteed that failure was, simply put, not an option. Hence the fact that there was nothing – nothing – that was going to stop her.


“Hey you!” Except for that.


Cursing under her breath and nearly losing her grip upon the rough surface of the wall, Natalia contemplated for all of two seconds the possibility of ignoring the voice. Stuck as she was, it would have been so simple, so easy, for the woman to continue on her merry way and pretend all the while that no one had spoken. Heck, she could even imagine that said nameless person had been shouting at some other shady looking figure on the outer rim of the wall – a shady looking figure that wasn’t, in fact, herself. But Natalia wasn’t dumb. She knew that anything other than compliance would likely end with her and a bullet becoming most intimate, and, truth be told, the blonde wasn’t much in the mood for having her brains blown out. Not today at least. Or any other day for that matter. It would seem then, that acknowledgement was in her best interest. Hence the reasoning as to why the blonde eventually found it within herself to turn in the direction of the voice, face painted in a saccharine smile that oozed nothing but feigned happiness.


“Yes?” She asked, voice loaded with a false innocence as though she were a young girl pointing out the color of the sky. “Is something the matter?”


All she got in response was a silent glower – or what she assumed to be a glower, it was hard to tell underneath the man’s mask just what his facial expression was – and a crossing of the arms. Obviously he wasn’t in the mood for small talk, nor was he buying into her game. ‘So much for playing it nice,’ she mused, a small frown tugging at the corners of her mouth. Stuck between a rock and a hard place, Natalia came to the conclusion that there were truly only two options open to her by this point. She could either jump off the wall she was currently in the process of scaling and hope that her legs would be fast enough to carry out of the man’s shooting range before he decided to use her for target practice, or she could let him take her into custody like any good little girl would do. On one hand she could go down in one last blaze of glory while, on the other, she could be brought into the city walls with an overbearing Raider for an escort. So with much deliberation and a good sting to her pride, Natalia found herself extracting her person from the wall and grinning sheepishly at the heavily geared man. At least this way her main goal – getting beyond the city walls – would be accomplished. Plus, if she went along with their demands for the most part, there was a possibility that she could negotiate her own freedom.


“So uh…” she murmured, raising a hand to rub the back of her head, “how are we going to do this?”
 
Travis ran through the maintenance tunnel. He grabbed a smoke bomb from his belt. It wasn't much in terms of a distraction but it would do. He tossed a few to cover the length of the tunnel. Soon it was covered in a gray smoke that only advanced equipment could see through. He activated his helmet and made his way. The gang members started firing blindly into to the long tunnel. Most missed Travis but a few shots were a hit. His armor reflected most of the shots but one made it through. The bullet tore into his left shoulder. He would half to power through the pain, hoping for the best.


He saw light ahead. "Come on! Just a little bit more!" He said to himself. He ran into the sunlight, his helmet had automatically adjusted for the light. The gang members weren't ready for it and they were slowed down. The extra distraction was his chance and he escaped. He made it to his bike and stopped to catch his breath.


He road back to Pleasanton. He arrived and wheeled his motorcycle up to the garage. He stopped at the bar and sat down for some grub and some beer. He had just remembered about Dwayne! He sent the video of the gangs hideout. He attached a message to the video. "It doesn't look like your mech will fit in the tunnel. There might be another way in. I'll look tomorrow." He thought to himself about his wound. "I'll see a doctor once I finish eating." He finished his meal and saw a doctor. The doctor patched up his wound. He returned to his bunk and fell asleep.
 
"Did he.... just say LT?" asked the crime lord incredulously with a look of pure shock across his face as he attempted to put together the fact that his criminal connect was a Raider playing civy, a twist of fate desired by none other than the clinically insane.


"You got to be kidding me, half a week of undercover work, ruined because of a fucking barfight" thought the Lieutenant, his internal voice frustrated and tired.


Instead of accepting the bootleg weapon, Jacinto reached across his stomach with blinding speed, extending his grasp to the webbed grip of his LP4 Machine Pistol. In one smooth movement, the unarmored LT raised his handgun to the face of the criminal before him. As he did so, the kingpin reached for his own weapon but his movement came too late, and before the lord of all things illegal could reach for his own weapon, the senior Raider fired a single non-lethal shock shot directly into the forehead of the large brutish man that stood before him.


The face of the large criminal contorted into various twisted parodies of human emotion and from his mouth came a disgusting gurgle as spit and mucus welled in the nether regions of his throat. After several seconds of facial gymnastics and lingual sputtering, the finely dressed goon fell back onto the wooden floor of the bar, creating a deadening thud that reverberated through the bar, attracting the silent attention of everyone from the bartender to the drunken Red Mask mercenaries.


The senior Raider looked back at the Sargent and then he turned both his gaze and his gun's barrel towards the armed man who seemed more scared than aggressive at this point. Jacinto cracked a slight smile and stared directly into the iris' of the man.


"Walk away" said Jacinto quietly, his eyes blazing with adrenaline, his finger twitching in preparedness.
 
Dwayne watched the video and frowned, "Slum bitch." He found himself outside of the local bar and made his way in, thinking of his options with Eliza. Once inside, he heard the commotion of the fight, guns were being fired, which was never a good thing, he had been in a few of these in his NSF days, so he was able to manuver around the commotion without trouble, dodging errant punches and flying bottles, it was almost comical watching this average man evade everything sent his way with ease. None of the happenings in the bar mattered though, he had to figure out a way to get into the tunnel to kill Price. Then a light bulb appeared figuratively over his head.


He sent back the following recorded message:


"What about the actual train tunnels? Eliza can move any of the cars in her way, but they should be big enough to fit both of us, and I wont really have to worry about ambushes, I doubt Price and his goons have heavy enough demolitions to put a dent in Eliza, unless they cave a tunnel in on me... Still, thats a pretty big amount of ordinance... Scout it tomorrow, let me know"


He walked toward a man called Lieutenant, saw him aiming a gun in another man's face, then went behind the Lieutenant. "Im usually not one to question one's leading ability, Sir, but shouldn't a Raider wear his fancy armor if he plans to beat up on people, that way they know who they're about to get their ass kicked by?" He reached over the bar and grabbed a handle of the bootleg Whiskey, he gave a quick nod to the Bartender, who frowned, but knew Dwayne's money was good, so let Dwayne pull the handle, who then filled his own shot glass, and then the one the Lieutenant had left empty on the counter.
 
The red masks picked up their buddy and ran out of the bar. "Sorry about that LT." Jackson said. " I was trying to watch your back."
 
There was the slight sound of footsteps echoing behind the group of Raiders. One by one they turned around only to see a pair of glowing blue eyes shining through the dust. When the figure grew closer, they became silent. The woman wore a cloak that concealed her armor, making her unrecognizable. She continued walking and did not take a single moment to look at the watching Raiders. They parted down the middle to let her pass through. Kat passed the woman in chains, and only than did she look. They're gazes met for a single second. But she flicked her eyes away before anyone could notice. Kat stood at the unopened gate, waiting. Whoever it was that was opening it called out to her.


"You there! Reveal yourself!" The commander called out. Without speaking a word, Kat slowly lifted the cloak from off her helmet. She stared at him with a mysterious glowing gaze. He looked startled for a moment, and than he cleared his throat.


"My mistake. I did not recognize you. Welcome back, Katherine." He opened the gate immediately after these words. She flipped her hood back on and proceeded silently into the old city without acknowledging anyone. The sounds of gunshots and yelling rang out from time to time. People passed her by, calling out and trying to get her attention. But she continued forward. Kat's feet carried her in the direction of a slummed bar. Drunken men were gathered around the front, laughing loudly and spilling their drinks.


When she entered, the bar was surprisingly quiet. Kat's blue gaze looked down to the floor to see a man with foam dripping from his lips. Another man pointed a gun at him. The men she was behind parted when they got a good look at her. Kat walked through and approached the bar without regarding the situation going on behind her. The bartender was busy cleaning a shot glass with a white cloth, until he saw the person sitting at his bar. He practically dropped the glass in surprise.


"Ah, it's been awhile, Kat. Finally decided to come back?" He remarked after regaining his composure.


With a soft hiss of pressure releasing, Kat's helmet retracted inside of the armor and revealed her face; freckles on the bridge of her nose and a pair of dark hazel eyes.


"I'm just here for the bounties." She muttered as he began pouring the tip of a whisky bottle into a shot glass. He slid it towards her, and she caught it perfectly in the cove of her hand. Kat downed it and slammed the glass on the table.


"Thought so. Jason was here a little while ago. Not sure where he went though." He shrugged while cracking open a beer bottle and handing it to an already drunk man. Kat remained silent with her eyes lowered.
 
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"Don't stress it Fritz" said Jacinto quietly, hiding his frustration as he turned from where the drunken man had been standing just moments earlier. With a comfortable and practiced motion, the Raider placed his sidearm back into his holster, casting a stern glance downward towards the tazed criminal as he did so.


Before Jacinto turned back to the bar, he deliberately slid his foot into the rib-cage of the large man who lay on the floor. As a result of the slight kick, the man entered into a second bout of violent spasms, a residual effect of the stun that the Raider had delivered to the front of his large cro-magnin head.


For several seconds, Jacinto observed the suited goon as he twitched on the floor and after confirming that the man was beyond the conscious world he reached down to the floor where his gun lay, picking it up gingerly before placing it onto the bar. With the large hand cannon now upon the wooden surface, Jacinto slid onto his stool once more, casting a glance at the condescending man who sat at the beside him, mulling over a shotglass with an air of unnerving apathy about him as if nothing violent or out of sorts had transpired at all. As he adjusted himself upon the stool, the Raider noticed that his shot glass had been refilled, and after taking notice of it he nodded his thanks to the bartender, receiving a nod in return from the old tender of liquor. After a couple seconds of silence Jacinto turned to the stranger, eyeballing him for a moment before speaking.


"I'm off duty........ armor's back in the the barracks........ easier to blend this way" said the Raider in a tired tone before downing the shot before him in one, all too practiced motion.
 
Vini's caravan continued to march on, and as he walked, he saw the flicker of his motion detector in the distance, and his eyes themselves saw movement. Or, at least he thought they did. He gestured to the caravan to stop, and took his rifle from his back, using it's scope to scan the horizon. As per usual, only clouds of dust and the whistling of the wind were present. After five minutes of an uneasy silence, Vini lowered his rifle, and they continued down the road.


Once more Vini stopped, seeing corpses a little down the road. He slowly approached, and identified them ragged remains of a rather large pack of reavers, numbering at least three dozen, though it was hard to tell due to the massive amount of severed limbs and generally identifiable corpses. The area was littered with bullets, large shells, and a few ejected clips. It was a bloody sight, but Vini had seen worse. Much worse. He had heard of a group known as the Raiders, and one known as the Red Masks, but he knew neither well enough to identify their handy-work. Due to the close proximity to the city walls, it could even have been a join operation. Unlikely, but possible. He slowly walked over to the merchant, and told him the situation,


"Nothing but a downed pack of reavers. If we all pitch in, it should only take a couple minutes to clear the road. Not really a problem." The merchant nodded, a bit uneasy about this all,


"All right. I'll give the men orders, send 'em over to you. Give me a minute."


"Will do."





Vini walked back over to the sight, and shortly after he was joined by the spare hands. After ten minutes of lifting corpses, and kicking limbs off the road, Vini deemed it clear enough, and they continued on. Not much later, they arrived at the city gates, before them there was already a group of raiders, a woman who didn't seem to be part of them, and a hard to make out blue figure with a slight blue glow entering the gates. This time the caravan master stopped the group, and approached the city guards, though he had enough sense to wait until the raiders were done to chime in.
 
Sasha did not pay much attention to the guards that were arguing as to whether or not one of them saw something. But the faint crunch of shoes digging into the sand behind her did catch her interest, stopping as the rest of the Raider caravan came to a halt to watch a figure with glowing blue eyes stare at them through the harboring winds of the desert. Her eyes remained glued to the mysterious stranger walking through the crowd of Raiders as if they were parting the seas, eyes caught in the stare from the shining blue eyes before passing her completely.


Not too long after she made her presence known, the gates opened immediately for her to enter, only to shut right behind her, guards climbing down from the towers to meet with the Raiders on the ground to discuss their business and take care of the details before they were allowed back inside. The winds blew firmly across the dunes of the barren lands, making Sasha's hood flap violently against the breeze. She glanced over her shoulder to hear yet another group approaching the gates, merchants from the looks of it or couriers of a given form. Her chains clanked as Sasha's jade eyes glanced towards the mercenary band, locking eyes for a moment with Vini before turning her attention back to the ground in front of her.


"Look, she helped with a Reaver threat we had when we were scouting. We would be dead if it wasn't for her," explained the captain of the Raiders as the merchant leader approached. "Then you putting her in chains is what? A fantasy for you?" grunted the guard as the Raider sighed disgruntledly. "No! For the last time, we did not know what to do with her. She was dangerous with weapons but fought off the Reavers only. She would not speak and we couldn't just leave her out there on her own," he retorted.


@Jack Dennings @The Velveteen Rabbit @HunterJJ
 
(Jacinto wouldn't know Fritz's given name. - edit *Your character is a Raider, so yeah, he would* edit* My character would of given him an alias, he would also of been a raider longer.*) "Anyway I'm going to check the bounty board." Jackson said.


Walking through the ruined bar trying not to step on the occasional broken chair, or unconscious bar patron. Jackson moved towards the bartender casually . "Got any whiskey left?" Jackson asked the bar tender, siting beside Dwayne. "You're bot geting anything until you pay for the damages." Said the bartender angrily. "How much?" Jackson asked. "About $3000." replied the bartender. Jackson rifled through his pockets for a moment, and sighed "Would $3.50 do?" He asked semi jokingly.


"Out now!" The bartender said pointing at the door. "I'll get the money to you after my next pay cheque." Jackson said standing up. "NOW!" the barkeep shouted.


"I'm too old for this shit." Jackson said walking along the street. There wasnt anybody out this time of night except for a few red masks, and the occasional family pet. Jackson stopped in front of the local bounty board. Rubing his shoulder where he pulled something, Jackson started to read. After a while he saw the notice put out by Travis. He quickly got the information and started walking towards the apartment where Travis lives.


When Jackson walked into the building the scent of illegal drugs, alcohol, and filth hit him. Looking around he didn't see any thing worthy of notice, just another run down apartment building. When Jackson finally got to Travis's apartment he knocked on the door
 
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Dwayne grinned as Jachinto's comments, "Easier for a Raider to blend in? I fugred you lot weren't the type to try and hide yourselves." When the one call Fritz sat next to Dwayne, Dwayne scooted away from him just a bit, and then a few moments later Fritz was kicked out, Dwayne watched him leave. "Like your partner there, Fritz, he doesn't exactly scream stealthy. But maybe it takes a soldier to know a soldier? Something about the walk, and the talk. You start to recognize it."


Dwayne took his shot, then took the handle leaving the money to pay for it, "You Raiders, all that power and you just protect a single town. An important town, sure, but you lot could unite this region. Like the NSF, just don't be dicks about it." He smiles a moment, then frowns and starts to walk out into the town again.
 
(I'm only gonna say this once, Fritz changed his name before arriving in Pleasanton. I'm updating my CS now. I should of mentioned that.)


When the door opened, Jackson wasn't very surprised when four red masks steps out the door and surrounded him. "Sorry wrong address." Jackson said puting his hands up and walking away. He didn't want to get into another fight with a red mask tonight. Especially


with four to one odds. "Where the fuck yah think your gonnin?" said one of the masks shoving him back into the middle of the circle. "What did I do to you anyway?" Jackson asked. "Three broke ribs and a dented mask." the lead mask said.


"How about we be gentlemen about this?" Jackson replied, reaching for the back of his belt. "How bout we skin you?" said one of the masks. "I like my skin, no thank you." Jackson said dropping a fully cooked 9-bang at his feet, and shoving his way through two of the masks. "GRENADE!" someone shouted. When the 9-bang went off the EMP took out the building's lights for a few floors.


When Jackson got to the street he quickly started moving towards the capsule. He lost the red masks easily, and started heading for the capsule, the roads were well worn Jackson noted as his boots clacked on the pavement. "next time I bring my gun." Jackson thought." walking through the capsule's entrance. He quickly checked the training schedule "Oh great."He muttered when he saw the listing. "What's up Jack?" Said one of the passing raiders. "I have to teach unarmed combat, I just tore something in my shoulder." Jackson said rubing his right shoulder. "want me to do it?" the raider offered. "I'll be fine." Jackson said smirking. "I'll just get them to practice stuff they already know." "ok man, I got to run." the raider replied. " Wait, do you know where I can find Travis?" the raider quickly gave Jackson the address then jogged away, most likely heading for the wall.


When Jackson got to the barrack block he quickly found Travis sleeping. "I want in on the price bounty." he said siting on the edge of Travis's bunk.
 
Travis woke up in his bunk. He saw Jackson walk in. "I want in on the Price bounty." Jackson said "Oh it's the Spaceman..." Travis replied in a tired voice. "Well need your explosives for the mission. I scouted some of the subway station earlier today. I'll send you the video I took. Also talk to Dwayne. He's in mission too. Now leave me alone. I'm sleeping."


Travis woke up once again later that day. He checked his communication device amd saw a message from Dwayne. He texted back "I'll check out the train tunnel today." He also sent a message to Jackson and the video "I'll doing some more scouting today. I could use your help." He went down to the market and bought a repair kit to patch some of the holes in his armor.
 
Jackson quickly sent a text back "Meet at my apartment, we need to go over the video." Jackson got up from his kitchen table an went to work making coffee. The place was a mess tactical gear laying around, empty magazines, and a few live grenades.
 
Travis sent a message to Dwayne "Meet me at Jacksons apartment. We are going to review the video and plan." Travis had several hours before the meeting. He decided to see what was playing at the cinema. He checked the movie schedule. Something called Harry Potter was playing. It was something about a school for wizards. He bought a ticket and entered the cinema.


Travis left the theater. "Movies were a lot better back then." He said to himself. It was almost time for the meeting. Travis stopped at the capsule for some equipment for the meeting. He showed up at Jackson's place and knocked on the door. Jackson opened the door and welcomed Travis in.
 

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