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A caravan arrives.
Topic Started: Aug 15 2009, 03:22 PM (1,537 Views)
Zilabus
Member Avatar
Er'ry day I'm overseein'
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Bucket Town is at the end of it's rope. Months have passed wthout a single trader, caravan, or tribal ambassador. Without the trade, the town has suffered. An overabundance of meat and hides is more of a drain then a help, and a lack of other foods is a blow. Some settlers have already moved away, seeking other settlements to the east. When a caravan did finally arrive, it was an event. Bucket Town needed trade. Nearly the entire populous gathered. But this group was unique.

It wasn't the usual two or three men on foot with heavy packs, instead it began with a large truckbed, pulled by Brahmin, and continued with multiple small rickshaws. The truckbead was loaded down with heavy equipment, while the smaller wagons pulled by people where full of random other supplies, sepperated out. One rickshaw glinted in the sun, full of metalic pieces, while another was full of different types of fabric. a man walks along side it, crudely affixing a strip of rubber to a rough leather scrap. He folds and pulls it until it takes shape. A very rough boot.

There appears to be five or six in all. One is even carrying quite a few firearms. Grimy handguns and a rifle or two are visible. Past that, one rickshaw even seems to be carrying crops! Fresh crops! Strange rooty, gnarly potatoes! That is rare indeed. The truckbed holds a wide selection of heavier machinery, steam gages and air pressure pumps. There even seems to be a crude generator, working on air pressure!

The supplies seemed untouched. If a large caravan was to somehow journy all the way out here, it's supplies would certainly be picked through heavily. Not only that, the traders seemed especially wary, guns at the ready, some concealing wounds in old bandages.

Something strange is certainly afoot. The leader iof the caravan is a stout, fat man, covered in tattoos, and many of his guards are covered in crisscrossing scars. Has he employed raiders? Why? He seems to be about to speak.

((OOC- You can put your characters IC here now, and look at the strange caravan. The event progresses and he tells his story tomorrow. Put your tradin' caps on.)
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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Radiation King
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"We can't stop here! This is bat country!"
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
At the back of the crowd, near where the caravan was a'-rolling into the town, a figure adorned in all black headed for the caravan. Every now and then, he spoke.

"'Scuse me," it would say, "Pardon me, coming through," before it arrived at the front of the crowd that had gathered. Yes, Darrel Cohen was still in town. He had caught wind of the caravan from when he was heading to Gerade's church, a guy was yelling about it over by the field guns. He didn't plan on stealing anything from the convoy... Yet...
Darrel Cohen, the smooth-talking "Gentleman Thief" (Level 3)

Evan Laramie, the down-home gunslinger (Level 1)
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Run4
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Iron Crow
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Caleb limped back into Bucket Town. He was now carrying everything he had grabbed from the wreckage of O'Boyle's camp. And to start with, he was on the war path. He had his Machinegun slung over his back and his revolver on his hip, but his club was clenched tightly in his powerful hands. His comrades had been murdered, and someone was going to pay. Something caught his eye not too far off as he shuffled along. A caravan had arrived.

Caleb stopped and shifted from foot to foot. He could dive into investigating who had trashed the camp and killed his fellow hunters, or he could do a little trading, relax a little, and get into investigating afterwards. Settling on trading, maybe switching one of his guns out for a less ramshackle weapon, or getting something sharp for splitting heads, rather than his large club.
[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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Zilabus
Member Avatar
Er'ry day I'm overseein'
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
El's fears had gone unvalidated. It wasn't some sort of angry lynch mob, waiting for him. Something else was happening. Something big. He walked toward the crowd alone, with his head down. He'd split up with the boy and the rough mercenary for fear of being discovered. It seemed as though everyone of importance was already gethered here, including Benny O'Boyle. Eli cursed under his breath. The ghoul was one lucky bastard.

It was, to Eli's amazment, a large trading caravan. Eli was rather new in town, but he'd overheard and been involved in enough conversation to understand Bucket Town hadn't seen a group of traders or scavvers for ages. And certainly not one of this size. A large, brahmin-drawn cart led the small parade. Packed down with heavy equipment, and well guarded. Two grizzled men, covered in scars and sores stood defiantly. They had the look of raiders about them without a dout. Near them stood a woman in a leather duster, with a wide-brimmed hat on her head. It was a very rare sight to see a Texas Ranger working with raiders.

Eli's brow raised as he got a peek at some of the wares on the truckbed. "Look at that! Is that a generator?" Eli tried to get a better look, but the trader siting at the head didn't look very friendly. It was probably two thirds as tall as Eli, and just as wide, with a large metalic basin attached, and many old steam gauges. Surgical tubing went from one pipe to the other, coming out at what looked to be a crude, large air tank.

It wasn't a generator, it was a jerry-rigged, homemade air compressor! It was designed to work by man-power too! It'd be a labor intensive process, but not totally impossible. The system was set up in a rather simple way. It might even be possible to set it up on steam power.

Eli let out a whistle. His voice an octave high with suprise, even through his muddled near-kajun accent. "Hoooolllly shiiiit. An air compressor! Who knows how much pressure you could get outta it, and It'd be a bitch to attach it to anything... but if you get stuff working on air pressure... well... Then you got fucking power right there! Pnuematic power, sure, but fuck. That's useful!"

((OOC- Haha, sorry if my post got your hopes up for me to actually progress the plot, which I kinda did with the Air compressor, Never fear! The man will speak soon enough, and then the fun will begin.))
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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Cewebwalz
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Henshin a go-go baby
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Eddy Grey had had just exited a store when the nearby Caravan had appeared in the distance. He watched it for a good few minutes, before it finally arrivd at bucket towns gates. As he walked over to the already large crowd, he examined the contents of the Caravan. This one was a lot bigger then the ones he had seen before. Was that a generator? Shit, he hadn't seen one of those in a long, long time.

He noticed a few people walking closer, so he did so too. Then he started to notice the weapons.... Eddy was starting to wonder if they had any Energy Weapons. Obviously they did, but Eddy was wondering if they had something under the cost of 50 hides. Wait, did these guys even trade with hides? They weren't from Bucketown after all, and seemed to be quite sophisticated. Walking up to the man who seemed to be the head of the organization, he started to speak. "Hey, I got a quick question to ask ya. Do you trade with hides, or gaming chips?"
Jesse Winters - Penitentiary Pugilist
8(+2).5.7.5.5.8.4, Level: 4 -HC-

Grace Van Vliet - Indie Incinerator
5.7.7.5.5.4.7, Level: 3 -HC-
Quote:
 
Lmgthev:� Like tbh I agree CP is not the golden boy at all
Lmgthev:� You're like John Candy from Cool Runnings
Lmgthev:� Washed up has been who teaches the newcomers the trade� :D

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"What is Adderal, anyhow?" - Funky Fan
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Orion The Free
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Tired Traveler
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Orion crouched on top of a nearby building, someone's old two-story house. Regardless, nobody was living in it now. There was however, a large ladder to the top of the building. Orion didn't care who put it there, only that it was a good vantge point. He was unsure Milo had actually decided to follow him all the way up here or look at the caravan on the ground.

He could see that it was a very large caravan. Several small wagons and even a truckbed. Orion couldn't see what was on all of them, due to the angle he was at. He could see that there were some weapons, some supplies, maybe a few crops. He couldn't tell what was on the truckbed exactly, some large machinery of some sort. That was different. Although, that wasn't what unsettled him. The guards on the carvan showed recent signs of battle. Some were limping, a couple were more seriously wounded but weren't doing a very good job of hiding it. He could see that there were dents, scrathes and even some bullet holes on the truckbead.

Whatever these guys had gotten into, Orion could only hope that it hadn't followed them to Bucket Town.
Posted Image
"What's that you see? A wasteland? No. What I see is the most beautiful thing in the world. I see a new beginning, a clean slate for humanity. A time to forget our past and begin again."
Orion "The Free" Keagan
Notable Features: Yellow Eyes, Duster, Large scar on left side of the face.

The Count: 0
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HenchmenF
Wasteland leader
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Walking out of Bo-Bo's, beer in hand (which he got for free), Josef noticed a large crowd of people, all of them seemed to be crowding around a Caravan. Of course, that means that they suppiles that people were willing to trade. And where there was trade, there was oppurinty. And when there was oppurtinty, there was a way to make some cash. Making sure that everything he owned was inside his little blanket roll, Josef began walking towards the grouping.

What irked Josef though, if Caleb was going to be there. After all, him and Caleb along with Sheck and that annyoing kid did find the campsite all ruined and whatnot. If he was, then...well...it would be kinda akward. Since Josef did sorta....run off after they found it, buried the bodys and scavned what they could.
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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Zydrate
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Vault dweller
[ *  * ]
Milo had fallen only shortly behiend, daydreaming again, after a short walk, but Orion didn't seem too concerned. He was climbing on top of a building so Milo followed him up the ladder after a few moments passed. He got to the top and he noticed that Orion was crouched, all espionage style, and his eyes were fixed on a group of people. Milo began to think, "I guess that was the caravan he was talking about. A few of them looked hurt and I bet I could help them. I wonder if they're friendly."
"Are they hostile?" he whispered to Orion. They looked like they were just doing some trading but one can never be too sure out here.
Posted Image

Milo Rush

Special: 2.8.2.8.8.10.2
Traits: Small frame, Skilled
Level: 1
Karma: 0
Equipment
Armor: Sleeveless duster
Weaponry: 2x M1917, (2x Rudimentary) Makeshift Shank (Kitcken Knife)
Inventory: (In Sachel) Misc collected items, Metal Scraps, Water Bottle, Ammunition, Small Hide.
General Description: 15 years old, 5'4, only about 140 lbs. A highly perceptive, witty, and dextrious marksman.
Milo Rush's profile,
Milo's Theme Song
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Zilabus
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Er'ry day I'm overseein'
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
The gruff man itched his beard and looked at the croud. He reigned in his Brahmin, and shot a look toward the female texas ranger. She stepped back behind the makeshift wagon, and stepped up nest to him, rifle at the ready. He muttered under his breath, and his hired raiders went back from rickshaw to rickshaw. They set up in a crude semi-circle behind the truckbed, many traders glad to drop thier wares and rest.

He cleared his throat. "We need a doctor. It's urgent." He spoke in a strangely high voice for his size, and had an aire of sophistication about him. Doc Nance stepped forward. "You got anything to pay for my services?" He nodded slowly. A group of people stepped forward, many limping, and one unfortonate man was dragged acrossed the dirt. They left without a word.

The husky, bearded man spoke again. His voice loud and clear.

"I wouldn't suppose this is Bucket Town? It's a good thing we found you. Hell, I'd only heard of a settlement in this area from a friend. It's," His features contorted with anger. "it's been a long trip. Should've never come. If any of you are smart, you'll either leave tonight, or build up some fortifications. Either way, I'm sure I can help you out. We got more the enough tools and arms for everyone here. And It's dirt cheap."

His story seemed to mix with a kind of morbid business pitch as he went on.

"We set out almost five full moons ago. From the swamps. Things where good. I was trading back and forth between at least five towns, and they all seemed to outdo eachother in extra goods. See, there'd been a lot of nasty rumors about up north, and everyone was in a panic. Naturally, I stirred up more chaos every time I rolled in. Feeding 'em bullshit stories. It barely took a year to get this all together. Bought a Rickshaw every time I could afford one, and rented out a spot in my caravan. I was rolling in it man... biggest I'd ever been. I even raised up enough to buy some Brahmin and a harness for this old thing."

"And then I made the worst decision of my life. To come up and check it out. The rumors where getting worse and worse, and I needed to give the local economy time to build up again anyways... I still had a lot of extra goods then. It was easy to hire on my guards here. Bunch of former raiders, all washed up. Offer 'em enough money and they'd have no problem coming along. Hell, I even hired on a Texas ranger. And Fell in love with her."

He looked over to the woman at his right, and drew her closer. She held him around his waste tightly, but didn't put down her shotgun.

"There ain't nobody left. All we found was a bunch of nothing where the routes said there'd be people. I'd been banking on being able to trade for more food. I wasn't ready for..."

He paused for a long time. Grimacing.

"That's when I knew it was time to go back. But... I was stupid again. We where too far out. Going back would be bad. Reaaal bad. I thought of you guys as a last resort. See, I knew a little guy. Two man operation. Said he came from up here, that he would go back and give some support to the folks out here. I lost hope real quick. None of the tribals he'd talked about. None of the tribals that should have been here. 'Stead, we found one group. Tri... er... trekies? I dunno. Had that goofy ass haircut. All we got from them was a no, and a whole lot of spears pointed at us."

"I thought we'd hit the bottom, ya' know? What else could happen? Signbacks. Fuckin' signbacks. Not no confeds. Not this far out. They probably woulda traded with us, anyways. Not the western slavers guild either, though I only heard o' them. And not none of the local slaver scumbags. They where Signbacks! Out here! They're supposed to live way out! What the hell sent 'em down this way?"

"Wear big yellow metal signs on their backs... looks uncomfortable as hell. Stupid as hell too. They came at us at night. We were still moving, I was driving too hard. Looking for someone to trade. It was dark... they hit us from the flank. Hard and fast. We lost at least three men right off. I was slow to react... my fault. I managed to get the carts together, keep off the bullets. They had automatics man. Layed into us heavy."

He began to sweat. and breath heavier, more ragged.

"I pulled the wagons together too late. They where already on us. Getting in close for the capture. Bastards. They dragged away a lot of people. almost broke through completely. Then James came up. Big magnificent bastard! He was like a brother to me. He pulled out that flamer o' his. Whole night lit up... it saved us. Made them back off, and give me time to organize who was left. It was a useless effort. They took off. Blew a lotta holes in a lot of people on the way out. I lost nearly five people as slaves, five more got shot down. It happened in an instant."

"I'm telling you for your own good. You guys need to fortify. Arm yourselves to the teeth and set up some guards. I got a gunsmith with me! We got a whole lot o' muskets! A lot of better stuff too..."

It worked. A handful of men stepped forward quickly, random goods in hand, they stepped back with crude rifles, muskets, and pistols. A lot of the merchants perked up, bringing out their best stuff. One man held an over under revolver. A single 20 gauge shell on the bottom, six '45 rounds on top. A woman started bringing out clothes. Even one gown made out of patterned silk. It was all over the top expensive. That was the stuff that wasn't really for sale, just for show. Bring in the customers.

The texas ranger wheeled down the air compressor. A lot of people came to look at that. The big players trying to pool together enough goods to trade for it.

The gruff man started pulling out equipment of his own, holding it up for everyone to see. "Who want's it! Who wants it! For trade or sale! We take Hides or chips! Who's gonna put up some money for this badboy!?"

Finally a man put forth some meat. Then another man put forward some medical supplies, more put in for it. Eventually, it was handed off to the highest bidder.

((OOC- That's right, Items are going out auction style. There's a limited amount of crap, so get 'em if you want 'em. Items wil be put out one at a time, and you can put up hides, equipment, supplies, or some combination of those. Every item will have a random amount of maximum bids before it's sold, so don't try to wait it out. I'll put the first item up after I've given everyone enough time to know what's going on, and then I'll keep giving 'till we're all out.))
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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Cewebwalz
Member Avatar
Henshin a go-go baby
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
(OOC-This happens RIGHT before I go on a two day plane ride back to America? Wonderful.)
Jesse Winters - Penitentiary Pugilist
8(+2).5.7.5.5.8.4, Level: 4 -HC-

Grace Van Vliet - Indie Incinerator
5.7.7.5.5.4.7, Level: 3 -HC-
Quote:
 
Lmgthev:� Like tbh I agree CP is not the golden boy at all
Lmgthev:� You're like John Candy from Cool Runnings
Lmgthev:� Washed up has been who teaches the newcomers the trade� :D

full-sized avatar

"What is Adderal, anyhow?" - Funky Fan
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Radiation King
Member Avatar
"We can't stop here! This is bat country!"
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
(I'll barter on something for you, if you want.)

"Oi, oi, oi, oi!" Darrel shouted towards the back of the caravan, a rickshaw stocked almost to the brim with melee weapons. Calling over a caravan guard who seemed to be reasonably wavering about the prices, he started rummaging through the swords, hammers and homemade stabby things.
Darrel Cohen, the smooth-talking "Gentleman Thief" (Level 3)

Evan Laramie, the down-home gunslinger (Level 1)
Posted Image
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Orion The Free
Member Avatar
Tired Traveler
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
"Does that answer your question?" Orion said turning to Milo. He stood up and walked back over to the ladder at the back of the building. "You might want to stay here and keep watch, in case these "signbacks" show up early. I'm gonna see if I can't go fins me some ammo and some leather."

Orion climbed down the ladder and made his way out to the street. Once there he pushed his way through the crowd towards one of the piles of supplies that looked to have more miscellanious goods. "You all got any torso sized pieces of leather, or any makeshift bolts for my crossbow?" he asked one of the men standing nearby.
Posted Image
"What's that you see? A wasteland? No. What I see is the most beautiful thing in the world. I see a new beginning, a clean slate for humanity. A time to forget our past and begin again."
Orion "The Free" Keagan
Notable Features: Yellow Eyes, Duster, Large scar on left side of the face.

The Count: 0
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Run4
Member Avatar
Iron Crow
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Caleb checked the ammunition chain, coiled up in the metal ammunition drum he had added to the bottom of his gun. A 200-round chain when he found it, more than half of it was gone. He looked at the fire selector on the side of the weapon. He wasn't sure which designation that was. He had never seen another M60 with a fire selector on it. But he liked it. One click down from Safe gave you Full Automatic fire. Two down gave three-shot bursts, and three down gave Smi-Automatic. Whoever designed that weapon was not one to mess around. Actually, the more he thought about it, the more confused Caleb got as to exactly why there was a semi-automatic mode on a GPMG.

Caleb walked over to the firearm cart, checking through the various types of ammunition for the 7.62x51 cartridges in those disintegrating belts his M60 used. He finally found a 100-chain and picked it up, looking around for anyone he could pay for it. He didn't like the idea of stealing, what with probably having to help these people when those signback folks showed up. Even the well-travelled Caleb had only heard of them, and none of it was good.

Once he had dealt with the transaction, he'd buy a chopper of some variety, and then find out just who was responsible for the destruction of O'Boyle's camp.
[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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Zilabus
Member Avatar
Er'ry day I'm overseein'
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
The man wasted no time in continuing, this time waving his hand to one of the men in the rickshaw. He lobbed a long metalic object quickly at the bearded caravan leader. He caught it carefully, spinning it above his head quickly. A large, metallic crow's feet prybar. (Crowbar)

"Alright! Alright! Who wants it? Who wants it! Who wants the piece of mind getting up close 'n personal brings? I don't want it, to heavy! You could get it cheap! Who wants it!"
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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Clearing
Member Avatar
Official Code-Puppy
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
"I'll give ya my baseball bat and this bottle of rum. It's good stuff, too. Bat's a bit broken, but you could use it fer firewood." Betty said, sliding through the crowd to the front. Crowbar was heavy and sure as hell could do some damage. She liked that in a weapon. "If you want, I'll even throw in these things, too. I have them but I don't want them and I'm not entirely sure what they do."

Betty held up the Strongman Mints and waved them back and forth.
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