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O'Boyle on a mission.; (Event quest part 2)
Topic Started: Jul 26 2009, 11:38 PM (1,522 Views)
Zilabus
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Er'ry day I'm overseein'
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
O'Boyle has a feeling that Corrotto is behind all the recent stirrings in bucket town. A little investigation revealed yesterdays riot wasn't up to chance. Someone started it on purpose to undermine O'Boyle, and O'Boyle knows a rat. His names Miguel. Hunt him. Find him. Make him talk.
Eli "Slim" Ambrose
SPECIAL: 3, 9, 2, 7, 9, 3, 7
Level: 5
Bucket town reputation: -175
Equipment
Weaponry: Molotov, Cherry bombs, Combat Knife, Laser pistol, Tack Mines, Smoke grenades, Syringes.
Armor:Post-war suit Tattered leather jacket
Inventory
Homemade shotgun, Gumballs, Bedspread
Mentats x3, Psycho x2, Jet x1, Wiskey x2, vodka
4 1/2 x Hides, 15 LSB dollars
Appearance
Caucasian
Very tall, lanky, and slim, jet black hair in a greased into a subdued pompadore style. Dark eyes and a cleanshaven face. Brown Windowpane suit.

Kelly "Featherweight" Capozzi
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Run4
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Iron Crow
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
"Hah, gimme five minutes with Miguel and he'll tell us whatever we want him to say," Caleb said, folding his arms as he turned to the other hunters. He wasn't sure they'd all need to come along. Just a small group of people asking around bucket town. Too many people would attract too much attention and Miguel would probably jump ship and leave Bucket Town or go underground and make life very difficult for the hunters.

Caleb shrugged it off and sat down by the fire as soon as the sun started to dip towards the horizon. Tomorrow, he'd be hunting Miguel and making the runt scream. But for now, he'd rest, eat, drink, and share a few stories with the hunters by the campfire. Much as he sucked at conversation, he told a great story. It probably made everything seem more realistic because he was a big, scary, dreadlocked Tribal wearing a makeshift attire formed from various hides with boiled leather joint protection. He leaned towards the cookpot to see what was in there. Brahmin and something that vaguely resembled rice. And what Caleb hoped was some kind of seasoning, rather than Brahmin blood, sizzling away at the bottom of the pot.

He grabbed a bowl, grabbed some grub, and sat back to eat. Tonight was for celebration. And he'd been given a book. He could sell that somewhere or bring it back to his tribe. Well, his tribe already had a copy, so he'd probably sell it for some scrap metal to repair the casing of his M60 with. He doubted the Tribal Elders or Shamans would begrudge him a copy of a book they already had to improve his weapon a little. He grabbed some moonshine from his bag, took a swig and passed it around, taking a drag on the communal cigar as it came his way. Tonight was for celebrating, for tomorrow, they'd be beating a confession out of a stranger.
[align=center]Posted Image
HenchmenF
 
"Anyway. Then me and CP were like "Lul, wut?" and then Run had to step in and use his e-peen as a riot baton and then Doffa sorta left."

Caleb Wolff, Level 7 Tribal Ranger. (Inventory)
Jackal, Level 5 Glowing Ghoul. (Inventory)[/align]
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HenchmenF
Wasteland leader
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Josef, taking a drag from the Cigar that was just passed to him, looked at the little bottle of Degernt that was given to him. He was almost sure that Benny was trying to tell him something. Like...maybe he should wash his cloths or something. Notcing that the food was done cooking and everybody was reaching for some. Taking his bowl, Josef scooped some of the Brahmin and Rice mixture into his bowl. Taking a spoon that he found at camp a little while ago, he dug in. It was....hot to say the least. Gulping it down and then some water, Josef looked around the camp.

They were going to find this guy, Miguel. Beat him up, make him talk. A bit thugish, but, whatever. But, really? A bottle of degernt?! He felt someone tap his shoulder, and then a bottle of moonshine was in his lap. Taking a swig of it, he passed it over to the next guy. But for now, it was simply just time to wait and see what will happen.

And maybe he would sell the bottle of degernt when they got into town.
Jimmy Ronan
Karmichael Sandoval - HC -
Karmichael's current inventory

-----------------------------------------------------
The Wastes TV Tropes page. Open edit
Plat: If Hench is the monarch I'd willingly accept a life of serfdom.
CP: homie you a rauccous college student why you need a bed time
LMG: Hench is the real enemy of Democracy
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Fniff
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Wastelander
[ *  *  *  * ]
Dejan saw something in the distance. It looked like a campsite. He checked his bag for stuff to trade. OK,most of the stuff in his bag was very important,like the crossbow and the bolts,but he didn't need war and peace. He walked over. "Hello. Is this a trading outpost?" Dejan asked.
I did not get the plot of You Gi Oh.

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Solbur
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Creepy Old Lurker
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
"Uh. No." Sheck replied bluntly to the newcomer's question, apparently generally disdainful of everything around him on account of his back injury and the freaking puppet he had recieved as payment. As payment. Not hides, not chips, not a handy new carbine, not a subservient wife who could cook and clean and give him back rubs, but a damn DOLL. He dangled the dummy in front of him, using his hand to move its mouth up and down as though it was speaking. Then it occured to him that the doll was seriously quite creepy. Something just wasn't right about that dummy. The way its eyes seemed to follow you when you moved, Sheck thought.

"Seriously, kid, you wanna trade, you go right on into town," Sheck told Dejan without looking at him, intent on his dummy for the time being.
Success is the ability to go from one failure to another with no loss of enthusiasm.

Jonas "Sheck" Sheckley
Ghoul - Level 1 - 5-7-9-1-7-7-4
Traits: Night Person, Skilled
Equipment: Hatchet, Rudimentary Revolver, Wastelander Clothes
Inventory: Hides (1), dog meat (1), a strange ventriloquist's dummy (1)

Lanky, gruff old Ghoul scavenger wearing patchy waster gloves that cover almost every inch of him, opaque welder's goggles, padded rubber gloves and an odd choice of travelling companion. Say hi.
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Run4
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Iron Crow
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
(OOC:Fniff, there is a Post Order. It goes Me, Hench, you, then Solbur. I know this is the first you've heard of this, but please stick to it in future)(Seichin is pronounced say-SHEEN)

"Slavers had a girl like that not too ling ago. Saw 'em pass the old borders of Seichin country and swing southheast towards the Gulf. It'd do you well to forget all about that girl. Slavers down southeast of here'll make balloon animals with your guts and make necklaces from your fingers.Bad folk. The girl's as good as gone," Caleb said as he walked over to see what Sheck and the newcomer were talking about. He avoided looking at that scary-ass doll Sheck had received as payment. He could have sworn he caught it watching him earlier.

Caleb looked at the newcomer, who seemed horrified by this revelation, and swallowed as he realised that he had been about as tactful as a full on bitch-slapping to the boy. Caleb put on his "I'm sorry" face as he turned away from the boy and returned to the circle around the campfire, indicating that the newcomer could help himself to the food in the cookpot.

Caleb took a swig of someone else's booze, probably whiskey lifted from the bar in the chaos of the brawl by the taste of it. Then he took another drag of the communal smoke. He resisted the urge to splutter as he inhaled deeply and realised that the cigar had burned out some time ago and been replaced with something decidedly different. He took another drag to save face and passed it on. What the HELL was that? he thought as he drank more whiskey and then passed that on too.
[align=center]Posted Image
HenchmenF
 
"Anyway. Then me and CP were like "Lul, wut?" and then Run had to step in and use his e-peen as a riot baton and then Doffa sorta left."

Caleb Wolff, Level 7 Tribal Ranger. (Inventory)
Jackal, Level 5 Glowing Ghoul. (Inventory)[/align]
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HenchmenF
Wasteland leader
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
"Hey hey!" Josef muttered as a familiar shape of a joint landed on his lap.

Taking a drag, Josef passed it on, before following up with some whiskey. Coughing a little on the whiskey, Josef soon passed it on to the next guy, The new guy seeemd a bit...werid. Like, the doll that Sheck had werid. And the doll followed you with it's eyes. A slight chill ran down Josefs spine. He sensed something bad was about to go down. Like, real bad.

It was problay the new guys fault. But, something in the back of Josefs head told him something was going to go down. Then the new guy said something about looking for this person and a picture of a girl.

"Great, another guy looking for his long-lost love who he shall be reuntied with and then they'll live a happy life together."

Josef said, aloud.
Jimmy Ronan
Karmichael Sandoval - HC -
Karmichael's current inventory

-----------------------------------------------------
The Wastes TV Tropes page. Open edit
Plat: If Hench is the monarch I'd willingly accept a life of serfdom.
CP: homie you a rauccous college student why you need a bed time
LMG: Hench is the real enemy of Democracy
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Fniff
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Wastelander
[ *  *  *  * ]
"Actually,we probably won't. I have never seen a happy life go on for longer then,oh,16 years.Could be the enclave,raiders or mutants. Happy endings? That might have happened in the pre war times,but it won't come back ever." He said,then he took out his war and peace book. It was taking a very long time to finish. Thank christ Arroyo had a school,or else he would have never enjoyed the books he read.
I did not get the plot of You Gi Oh.

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Solbur
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Creepy Old Lurker
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
"The on-clay-what? Kid's talkin' crazy talk," Sheck commented as he lifted himeslf (and his dummy, to which he was growing increasingly attached to) and moved over to take a seat near the circle with the food pot. Rather than be caught up in the endless circle of passing cigars and whiskey to the left hand side, he pulled the bottle of booze he'd lifted from Bobo's out of his jacket before taking that article of clothing off, bunching it up and sticking it on a rock, which he then sat on, using his jacket as somewhat ineffective cushion.

He set his dummy down on the ground and tugged down his mask, pulling off his goggles and taking a moment to breathe in the Wasteland air deeply. The old ghoul could hardly smell how it constantly stank like airborne shit these days, which was a good thing, because all he was getting was the crispness of the air. He struggled with the cap of his bottle of booze for longer than he should have, before deciding to take out his hatchet and use that to apply some leverage to the lid, eventually flicking it off. Sheck then took a swig, frowned as he noticed how warm it was before shrugging and taking another sip.

Placing it down at the foot of the rock he sat on, Sheck flipped around his rucksack and opened it up, checking the contents. There was the dead dog, which was surprisingly well preserved, and the dead dog's skin. He crammed his dummy into the bag, freeing himself and the other guys from its perpetual stare, before closing the bag and taking another swig of booze, sighing slightly. Maybe this next job would have more suitable payment. Shouldn't be too hard a job either; just let Caleb on the guy for a couple minutes.

Eventually, he stood up, picked up his jacket and laid it out on the sand, before sitting down on it. His back still hurt, but oh well. Out of fear of being robbed in his sleep, he reached into his rucksack and pulled out his ventriloquist's dummy to stand guard over his unconscious body and his belongings. After a moment of looking around, he finished his beer (which basically consisted of him necking half the bottle - nothing that it mattered, being a Ghoul fucked his metabolism and altered the rate at which he got drunk) and lowered his back down until it was flat against his jacket and the sand beneath it. Then he pulled his goggles back down and drifted off for the night.

Success is the ability to go from one failure to another with no loss of enthusiasm.

Jonas "Sheck" Sheckley
Ghoul - Level 1 - 5-7-9-1-7-7-4
Traits: Night Person, Skilled
Equipment: Hatchet, Rudimentary Revolver, Wastelander Clothes
Inventory: Hides (1), dog meat (1), a strange ventriloquist's dummy (1)

Lanky, gruff old Ghoul scavenger wearing patchy waster gloves that cover almost every inch of him, opaque welder's goggles, padded rubber gloves and an odd choice of travelling companion. Say hi.
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Run4
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Iron Crow
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Caleb awoke in the morning to a most unpleasant sight. About eight feet away, and staring at him, was that damn ventriloquist dummy. Of course, at first Caleb didn't realize that and pulled a gun on the timber menace, ready to put a bullet in each eye. He realized it was the horrifying inanimate object and relaxed a little. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he stood up and walked over to the others.

He poked Josef awake with his foot, startling the junkie a little. Then he poked Dejan awake at an order from O'Boyle. Apparently, they were to break the newcomer in. Dejan waved his hands in his sleep and muttered about not wanting to go to school today. Whatever the hell that meant. Caleb shook him a little more aggressively, this time lifting him from the ground a little to rattle him better. Dejan awoke with a start, then relaxed a little.

Caleb had an altogether more twisted way to wake Sheck up. Sheck was lying asleep with that freak dummy sat down next to him to scare shit out of everyone who saw it when they woke up. Caleb decided to pay Sheck back for the shock of waking up to that thing's empty stare. He walked over and knocked the dummy over on top of Sheck. Suffice to say, the reaction it got drew more than a few laughs.

"Right, when we get to Bucket Town, we'll split into two pairs, have a look around, and meet back up in Bobo's at noon. From there, we put together what we know, and go rattle Miguel's cage," Caleb said.
[align=center]Posted Image
HenchmenF
 
"Anyway. Then me and CP were like "Lul, wut?" and then Run had to step in and use his e-peen as a riot baton and then Doffa sorta left."

Caleb Wolff, Level 7 Tribal Ranger. (Inventory)
Jackal, Level 5 Glowing Ghoul. (Inventory)[/align]
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HenchmenF
Wasteland leader
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Josed listend during this little "breifing". They were going to go look around for a bit, and, at noon, they were going to meet up at BoBo's. Josef raised a hand slightly, incadting that he had a question.

"Do we know what Miguel looks like?"

He asked. He did'nt want to go rattle up a differnt Miguel. That very well could cost O'Boyle some points in the election. Which, can't happen because then they won't get paid. This little briefing also reminded him when he had to do a Long-Range bodyguard assigement. Which, bassicly meant protect there client for a very, very, very long distance. Snapping back into the breifining, he looked around. If it was his way, at least one big guy per group. Caleb can deal with the FNG. At least Sheck knows how to do something. The new guy is going on about School or this En-clay thing or his lost girlfriend.

"I call Sheck with me."
Jimmy Ronan
Karmichael Sandoval - HC -
Karmichael's current inventory

-----------------------------------------------------
The Wastes TV Tropes page. Open edit
Plat: If Hench is the monarch I'd willingly accept a life of serfdom.
CP: homie you a rauccous college student why you need a bed time
LMG: Hench is the real enemy of Democracy
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Fniff
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Wastelander
[ *  *  *  * ]
(OCC) Just so you know,Dejan doesn't know your guys names

Dejan put up his hand. "Just so you know,I'm pretty good at sniping. Anyway,I call the guy in the tribal gear" He was looking forward to this. Some cash maybe,or possibly some weapons (He prayed that he wouldn't get a dummy instead). He noted that this was the fifth time he caught the dummy staring at him.
I did not get the plot of You Gi Oh.

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Solbur
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Creepy Old Lurker
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Sheck was still putting his rage at the dummy waking him up to words by muttering incoherent curses and insults about anything and everything he could think of, namely Caleb, the dummy and people laughing at him. He pulled his jacket back on and aggressively slapped off one of the few normal-sized scorpions that remained in the Wasteland which had taken refuge on his back, before crushing it under his boot. Endangered species his ass, Radscorps were that big when they were kiddies.

He somewhat aggressively stuffed his dummy in his bag before slinging it over his shoulder, then scooped up his old beer bottle and tried to empty the droplets that remained from last night into his mouth. Instead, he got a mouthful of fuck-knows-what insects which had no doubt crawled inside during the night. Coughing and hacking for a moment, Sheck managed to spit out most and regurgitate the ones that escaped down his throat, before administering the same boot-based fate as that had befallen the scorpion seconds before. He then threw the bottle against their remains, which surprisingly remained intact.

Tugging his mask back up after that and readjusting his head wrap, Sheck dusted himself down and did a brief jog on the spot for no reason in particular before turning to look at Josef.

"Sure," he responded to the junkie's "calling". Sheck was pissed at Caleb after he knocked over his dummy, he could not stand the new fuck and hardly knew any of the rest of the guys, so working with somebody he did know and had no problems with certainly wouldn't go amiss.

"Right, kid. Where we startin'?"
Success is the ability to go from one failure to another with no loss of enthusiasm.

Jonas "Sheck" Sheckley
Ghoul - Level 1 - 5-7-9-1-7-7-4
Traits: Night Person, Skilled
Equipment: Hatchet, Rudimentary Revolver, Wastelander Clothes
Inventory: Hides (1), dog meat (1), a strange ventriloquist's dummy (1)

Lanky, gruff old Ghoul scavenger wearing patchy waster gloves that cover almost every inch of him, opaque welder's goggles, padded rubber gloves and an odd choice of travelling companion. Say hi.
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Run4
Member Avatar
Iron Crow
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
"Good or otherwise, there will be no sniping on this assignment new boy," Caleb said, grabbing Dejan quite firmly by the shoulder. He locked eyes with the smaller Wastelander, turning him square-on to him and tightening his grip on his shoulder. "If I see you going for your gun before I go for mine, I swear to god I'm gonna kill you. We don't need some trigger-happy wannabe master sniper fucking shit up on us. Let's move. I'm Caleb, by the way."

Caleb started moving, waving his hand to get the others to follow. He really wasn't taking a shine to this new guy. Throwing some useless information out there about sniping on a shake-down mission. Fool boy needed a good sound slapping around the ears. Caleb stopped for a second, grinding his heel in the dirt as he hung on for the less tall people to catch up to his long strides.

"Hustle kids, we don't have all day," Caleb said, nodding in Bucket Town's direction. Maybe their systems didn't clear the whiskey or the drugs as quickly as his did. He reloaded his revolver as they walked, and then checked his M60 for ammunition in case any of Corotto's thugs showed up to help Miguel. Then he checked the bipod to make sure it wasn't going to fall off. All in order.
[align=center]Posted Image
HenchmenF
 
"Anyway. Then me and CP were like "Lul, wut?" and then Run had to step in and use his e-peen as a riot baton and then Doffa sorta left."

Caleb Wolff, Level 7 Tribal Ranger. (Inventory)
Jackal, Level 5 Glowing Ghoul. (Inventory)[/align]
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HenchmenF
Wasteland leader
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Entering Bucket Town was easy. A quick wave to the guard at the gate and they were let in. Slung over his back was Josefs pipe-rifle, going the oppostie direction of his blanketroll. It made a "X" of sorts, which, made him look somewhat fericer. A little. Keeping his switchblade in his left pocket and his pistol in his right.

"Alrighty, Caleb and new guy you guys head on over Doc N's way. Me and Sheck will head on over to the arty guns."

Josef said, pointing in the apportie directions for each way he told them to go. Then, he signaled for Sheck to follow him and they contuined down the way towards the old artielly guns. Looking around the streets, he looked for anybody who might be this Miguel. Not looking at Sheck, who was looking in the opposite direction of Josef, Josef spoke.

"So, Sheck. What do you think of all this man? Like, were doing the right thing?"
Jimmy Ronan
Karmichael Sandoval - HC -
Karmichael's current inventory

-----------------------------------------------------
The Wastes TV Tropes page. Open edit
Plat: If Hench is the monarch I'd willingly accept a life of serfdom.
CP: homie you a rauccous college student why you need a bed time
LMG: Hench is the real enemy of Democracy
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