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| O'Boyle brings the pain.; Final event mission. | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Sep 10 2009, 07:10 PM (981 Views) | |
| Zilabus | Sep 10 2009, 07:10 PM Post #1 |
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Er'ry day I'm overseein'
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Now is the time for action. People are dead, and you know who pulled the strings. O'Boyle has gathered up a posse. Find Corrotto. Take him in. And DON'T take no for an answer. |
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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 | Sep 11 2009, 01:25 PM Post #2 |
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Iron Crow
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Caleb nodded to Josef as they moved towards Bucket Town. The other hunters looked a little apprehensive of the mercenary/bouncer at first, until they began to recognize him. One of O'Boyle's handymen from the Miguel incident. None of the Hunters had asked where Miguel went or what happened to him. Maybe they knew. Caleb drew his new 10mm Pistol and spun it round his finger, getting used to the new balance. Slightly different from his old Revolver, but nothing he couldn't get used to. He re-holstered the wapon as the gates came within view, and then Caleb went over a short run-through of what O'Boyle had told them about taking Corotto alive. Josef was understandeably confused until Caleb mentioned trial and justice. "Time for a little vengeance Josef. We're getting back at Corotto and his scum bucket moron thugs for what they did at the camp. We're bringing Corotto in for trial and execution. Personally, I'm hoping for something Tribal -style, clubbing, immolation or impalement. They don't always kill straight away. Failing that, I want to see him hanged or tied to a pole and stoned by the townspeople. We're gonna pay his thugs around the bar a visit to stop 'em barging in on us when we break down Corotto's front door. O'Boyle didn't give any orders not to hurt or kill these guys, but I don't want 'em dead unless there's no other choice," Caleb said, staring dead ahead. Josef looked a little shocked at Caleb saying he didn't want these guys dead if they could help it, so the big dreadlocked Tribal elaborated. "So make sure to plant a weapon on 'em unless they've already got one to hand." As he moved into the town, he waved a pair of hunters left, and the other pair right. They'd scour anywhere Corotto's goons hung out, preferably incapacitating, but if necessary, killing any of them to prevent reinforcements arriving when they busted the manor. Which, once they had hogtied Corotto and carried him into the centre of town, they'd raze to the ground. They rounded the corner and came into view of Bobo's bar, where a few of Corotto's shitpieces sold drugs and generally intimidated passers-by to keep the locals under Corotto's heel. Caleb was pretty sure he didn't want to brawl with a group of gangsters again, so he intended to use his weapons this time. Maybe kill one of them bare-handed, but only as a last resort. Caleb grinned a sadistic, downright scary grin as they rounded the bar and spotted Corotto's goon squadron leaning against the wall of the bar, talking, dealing to passing junkies and whatnot. Caleb nodded to them as he passed, then he sat down on a stone not too far away from them , watching them until the area on the far side was devoid of innocent bystanders. Much as he wanted to slaughter these piggies, Caleb didn't want to get on the wrong side of the local raging mob. Feigning scratching his leg, Caleb flicked the safety off his 10mm Pistol on his hip, and the motioned scratching his back as he unwrapped the muzzle and receiver of his M60. He was ready whenever Josef was, and then, there'd be some bloodshed. |
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Caleb Wolff, Level 7 Tribal Ranger. (Inventory) Jackal, Level 5 Glowing Ghoul. (Inventory)[/align] | |
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| HenchmenF | Sep 11 2009, 02:49 PM Post #3 |
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Wasteland leader
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Josef was leaning agiasnt a nearby wall, near Caleb. Several other hunters were standing nearby. All of them ready to spring into action. Slowly taking his Chinese Pistol out of his holster after seeing Caleb ready his weapons, Josef nodded towards Caleb. Giving the signal that he was ready back, Josef motinied with his head for the Hunters to get ready. A few seconds later, Josef walked over to Caleb and sat downn on the ground near him. "You ready to do this shit?" Josef asked, looking at the goons. Gripped in his right hand, Josef had his pistol ready to go. He was saving his homemade flamethrower for later, when they storm Corrotos place to the ground. |
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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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| Run4 | Sep 11 2009, 04:33 PM Post #4 |
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Iron Crow
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((OOC: Fighting gangsters by executing them. Aren't we such nice people . . .)) Caleb nodded to Josef and the other two hunters with them. The other two had pipe rifles slung over their backs, both had them loaded, but neither of them could do much harm to this particular gang without help, with their single-shot rifles. The gangsters were talking to each other and generally just standing around, casting Corotto's oppressive shadow on this part of town for him, and didn't really get a whiff of anything out of the ordinary until they heard the sound of Caleb cocking his 10mm Pistol. Their heads turned and their eyes widened, jaws dropping as they found themselves staring down four gun barrels. The tried to scatter as Caleb fired twice, both shots thudding into a gangster. Bullet numero uno glanced off the mobster's armoured shoulder, but the second one struck true, punching through his leather jacket like it wasn't there and rending open the back of his chest as it exited his body. Some of the others made it to cover, others looked too far away, and Caleb and the two Pipe Riflemen thought it wise to dive into the dubiously protective wreckage of an overturned truck trailer. Caleb crouched as bullets pinged and bounced off the metal parts of the trailer, but punched through in places, causing Caleb and his fellow hunters to shift and roll frantically every few seconds as one of the gangster's revolver shots punched through their cover and ricocheted off the far wall or went clean through the entire trailer. Caleb rolled out the end, assuming a prone firing position and cracking off a few shots at the gangsters, doing little more than keeping their heads down and allowing the other two hunters get to better cover in a drainage ditch not too far away. Caleb rolled back into the trailer, chest heaving as adrenaline quickened his breathing and heart rate. His hands seemed steady. That or his eyes just didn't register the fact that they were shaking. Caleb mentally berated himself for attacking one of Corotto's largest mobs with just himself and three others. Unless this ended quickly, the number of gangers woud go way up as backup arrived. Caleb took a deep breath to calm himself and holstered his pistol. Shifting around on the floor, he finally unslung his M60 and flicked the safety off, followed by setting the fire selector to five shot bursts. Caleb then rolled out from the protective shell of the trailer and began laying down some fire to give the others a chance to flank and whatnot. He even managed to gun down a gangster and wing another as they tried to make an escape. Then the M60 started making that odd noise. That odd noise Caleb hated hearing. It had jammed. Tore the rim off the last cartridge casing and didn't eject it. Caleb swore angrily in three languages as he rolled back into the trailer and started aggressively attempting to clear the jam while shots went off back and forth around him. Caleb lay as flat against the ground as possible to make himself a smaller target and consequently less likely to deal with the blinding pain of a gunshot wound. |
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Caleb Wolff, Level 7 Tribal Ranger. (Inventory) Jackal, Level 5 Glowing Ghoul. (Inventory)[/align] | |
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| HenchmenF | Sep 12 2009, 07:39 AM Post #5 |
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Wasteland leader
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Josef, hiding behind a nearby wall, quickly popped out from cover. Pistol in hand and ready to go, Josef began firing as fast as he could at the fleeing gangsters. He was about to holler out and insult them, but, it was cut short when several other bullets flew past him. Pinging off the side of the metal shack that he was hiding behind, several of the bullets bypassed the metal and almost hit Josef. Sprinting across the open road, firing wildly as he went, Josef went into a slide and ended up in a drainage ditch with the other two hunters. Why have a drainage ditch if theres no rain?! Josef thought to himself. As the other two hunters reloaded there rifles, and Caleb was busy with his M60, Josef began to shoot at the gangsters. They were hunkered down behind random bits of cover. A burned out car, a pile of tires and junk. A few were on one knee, taking aim and firing. "Where the fuck are the other guys at?!" Josef shouted to no-one in particular, as he dropped down to reload his Chinese pistol. The other two hunters inside the drainage ditch were standing up, aiming there rifles and firing. |
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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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| Run4 | Sep 13 2009, 07:17 AM Post #6 |
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Iron Crow
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Caleb shook his M60 again as he continued his frustrated attempts to clear the breach. He could hear the gunshot reports getting closer from the gangster side as they started to press their number advantage on the hunters. With a glorious click, the spent casing finally ejected from the receiver, allowing Caleb to begin the gunfire anew. He crawled on his bally to the edge of the trailer and opened fire at the gangsters again, the roar of his machinegun joining with the sounds of Josef's Chinese Pistol and the sporadic cracks given off by the other two hunter's pipe rifles. The quick burst sprayed a gangster from knee to head, tearing several large, gruesome holes in his body as he fell to the ground, hydrostatic shock-induced convuslions wracking his body as he expired painfully in the dust. While the burst had only killed a single gangster, it had forced the ones near him to dive for cover or scatter back to their previous positions. Caleb took this brief respite as a chance to make a break for the ditch the other three were fighting from, entering in a baseball slide as bullets whizzed through the air over his head when the gangsters started firing again. Setting the bipod up on the lip of the ditch, Caleb started firing again, keeping the gangster's heads down for the most part, but sometimes clipping an exposed hand or foot, forcing the gangster to fall out of cover and into the other hunters' line of fire. The four hunters had a better firing position and better cover, but if the gangsters flanked effectively, Caleb and the others would be caught like rats in a trap. As if they had read his mind, a pair of gangsters rounded the far end of the truck Caleb had been using as cover. They received a spray of 7.62 lead for their troubles. The one on the left fell to a spray to the chest, three bullets punching a line into his chest from sternum to shoulder. The remaining two shots from the burst caught the gangster on the right in the neck and the eye, killing him instantly while his comrade wheezed his last on the ground, his lungs shredded and filling with blood. "Josef, the others are clearing out the smaller street walker groups to cut of Corroto's backup. Same thing we're doing here," Caleb said to Josef as he heard the mercenary shout about where the hell were the other hunters. Caleb could understand his thinking. Penned in a drainage ditch wasn't a good way to be. |
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Caleb Wolff, Level 7 Tribal Ranger. (Inventory) Jackal, Level 5 Glowing Ghoul. (Inventory)[/align] | |
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| HenchmenF | Sep 13 2009, 02:55 PM Post #7 |
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Wasteland leader
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"We better get moving then, right?" Josef said, moving down the drainage ditch. With Calebs covering fire, along with the hunters rifle fire, Josef was able to crawl down the dusty old ditch with little trouble. Not firing was he was moving, Josef fished his switchblade out of his pocket. Flicking the blade open, Josef arrived at the end of the ditch which was several feet away from where the gangsters were hunkered down. Some were poking there pistols over there cover and blindfiring towards the drainage ditch. One of the hunters bullets wizzed by him, problay from an unaimed shot. Looking back, Josef quickly looked forward. Readying his switchblade, Josef lunged at one of the gangsters. With the element of surpirse, and the fact that they did'nt see him moving down the ditch because of the heavy fire that Caleb put of them, Burying the blade deep into the gangsters chest, Josef finshed the one standing nearby with his Chinese Pistol. Blood and Gore sprayed around the area, with bits and peices of brain matter landing on Josef's jacket. The third gangster, turning his head, was killed when Caleb's M60 ripped through the gangsters shirt. Falling to the ground, the gangster died almost instantly. Standing up, and putting his hands in the air, Josef flashed a small simile at the rest of the hunters. "Now what?" Josef asked, reloading his Chinese pistol and wiping his switchblade off on his pants. Closing the blade and pocketing the pistol, Josef looked at Caleb. |
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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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| Run4 | Sep 13 2009, 03:09 PM Post #8 |
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Iron Crow
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"Now we meet up with our fellow hunters at Corroto's manor. It's at the far end of the town," Caleb said, pointing in the general direction of their target area. Caleb looked around at the town as people shuffled out from under cover and out of buildings as the four hunters marched along the road, leaving the gangsters for the vultures. Caleb had killed people, on purpose, and he really didn't care. He was cleaning out Bucket Town with his brothers in arms. Resting his M60 on his shoulder, he took point, looking around for anyone who looked particularly well-fed or in better shape than the others. That was a dead giveaway for being in Corroto's back pocket. He brought in tough muscle from out of town, God knows how. No one, not one single solitary soul, spoke as the hunters passed, the wind tossing up the dust in their wake as they made their way towards revenge and vindication. Everyone was somewhere between awe and horror at the hunters just walking into town and gunning down the gangsters who thought they ran the place. Caleb didn't really care what the people thought. If killing these people was the only way to get their chokehold of this little town, then so be it. Some people just couldn't be reasoned with. Corroto was one of them. As they rounded the corner, Corroto's manor loomed in the distance, large, threatening and generally an unpleasant place. Probably the only largely intact Pre-War building in the area. There were a pair of guards at the gates, and another pair at the doors. Caleb couldn't guess how many would be inside. As he spotted the 10mm Pistols and Carbines the guards here possessed, Caleb suddenly felt very vulnerable and exposed as the hunters strode down the street, the other four hunters falling in behind them as they arrived from their respective hits on other gangster groups scattered through the town. |
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Caleb Wolff, Level 7 Tribal Ranger. (Inventory) Jackal, Level 5 Glowing Ghoul. (Inventory)[/align] | |
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| HenchmenF | Sep 14 2009, 12:07 PM Post #9 |
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Wasteland leader
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"Caleb, for the record, you should have brought more people" Josef said, talking loud enough just so the assembled hunters could hear but not Corroto's guards could. Nervous chuckles escpaed the hunters. Checking his pistol for the last time, Josef opened fire. Tilting this gun sideways so the recoil could force the gun to go left, thus sweeping the area in front of him, Josef clicked empty after several seconds. One of Corroto's goons was laying on the dusty path, killed by one of Josefs bullets to the chest. The other hunters were already in cover and firing. Several bullets from the guards left, which was all of them save for one, were firing upon Josef. Running over to a overturned cart and launching himself at it, he landed with a thump. "Awww...." Josef mumbled as he got on one knee. By this time, the rest of the hunters were firing, giving Josef enough time to reload. Several civallins were crowding around down the street, watching the fight take place between the two factions. Maybe they'll come and join us. Josef thought, shooing them back so a stray bullet would'nt kill one of the bystanders. Bad P.R and all. |
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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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| Run4 | Sep 14 2009, 12:33 PM Post #10 |
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Iron Crow
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Caleb was in cover behind the corner of one of the few solid buildings in Bucket Town. Probably an out-building belonging to the Manor Corroto had taken up residence in. Bullets chipped away at the worn old concrete, showering Caleb with dust and chips of grey masonry. Caleb dropped to ground level, aiming at one of the guard's feet under the raised wooden porch of the building. He fired once, a carefully aimed shot ruining the guard's ankle and dropping him screaming to the ground. Caleb fired into the man's chest the second he landed, the bullet ventilating the man's ribcage. Caleb then sat up and fired again, aiming for the other gate guard's head. Caleb missed by quite a margin as the guard ducked behind one of the gate pillars, but at least the guard wasn't firing while he was ducked in cover. Caleb tensed as he felt the muzzle of a 10mm pistol poke into the base of his skull. He stood up slowly, raising his hands out to the sides. He looked at the window of the building next to his admirable cover building, noticing a ganger of a similar build to himself, but not as lean. Not one of the gate guards. The other hunters had missed a few then. The gun was pressed right up against Caleb's head. Bad move. A few of his Tribesmen had taught him how to deal with this sort of thing. Sliding back and ducking, Caleb swung his clenched fist downwards and backwards into the gangster's groin, and followed up with a rising elbow strike to the gangster's jaw. As the gagnster's head snapped back under the impact, Caleb swung his fist upwards and backwards into the gangster's face, breaking his teeth ans sending him reeling. As the gangster fell, he started to crawl away, his vision fading and blurring as he went until he started crawling up the steps to the house Caleb had been taking cover behind. As the gangster crawled up the steps, Caleb raised his booted foot and slammed it down on the base of the gangster's skull, slamming his jaw down on the step and snapping his head back. The gangster's neck broke with a gentle crunch and his body slumped on the steps. Caleb turned and headed back to the corner he had been crouched behind and scanned the area for guards.. Most in cover out of Caleb sight, blindfiring at the other hunters, one of whom was lying, nursing a ruined shoulder. Apparently, he had been caught in the open by a carbine shot. |
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Caleb Wolff, Level 7 Tribal Ranger. (Inventory) Jackal, Level 5 Glowing Ghoul. (Inventory)[/align] | |
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| HenchmenF | Sep 14 2009, 02:11 PM Post #11 |
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Wasteland leader
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Josef, finsihed reloading his old and aging Chinese Pistol, stood up from the cart that he was hiding behind. Firing off several shots as fast as he could, Josef ducked back down into cover when carbine rounds from one of Corrots minions flew past him. Taking a deep breath, Josef moved in a low crouch to another peice of cover. Blindfiring over to the lip of his cover, Josef turned to Caleb. "COVERING FIRE!" Josef yelled towards Caleb. He heard that line somehwere before, and it worked great when trying to move up. Several other hunters were busy reloading, but, one of them moved up to join Josef up near the front. The hunter, a thin and short man with a beard, cltuched a Sawn-Off shotgun. "Shit man! We gotta move up!" The hunter yelled. Standing up, the Hunter unleashed buckshot towards the gangsters. "I know!" Josef yelled back, shooting his Chinese pistol out of his cover. "And dibs on the goons weapons!" Josef said to his new comarde. |
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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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| HenchmenF | Sep 16 2009, 12:11 PM Post #12 |
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Wasteland leader
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((OOC: Double post)) Josef, hearing Caleb fire his BAR off at the entrenched, or at least somewhat entrenched, gangsters took off towards the front. His new friend followed. Josef fired his pistol off wildily, hoping to hit something. Ducking down into a baseball-type slide, Josef found himself caked in dust, but behind some cover in the form of a wrecked car. His new friend appeard right behind him. Josef reloaded his Chinese Pistol, waving to Caleb to move up and join them. Josefs new friend opened fire with his own sawed-off shotgun, leaving the sound of one of the shells flying out and hitting one of the gangsters in the chest. Josef was busy blindfiring. I wonder how many magzines was that Josef thought as he rummaged through his pockets. Josef pulled his hand back and saw one, measly little magzine left. |
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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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| Run4 | Sep 16 2009, 12:33 PM Post #13 |
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Iron Crow
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((OOC: I had to edit my post now! ))At the far end of the front "garden" from where Josef and the other hunters moved up, Caleb vaulted the fence and rolled to a stop behind some rocks Corroto probably thought made a nice scenery feature among the patchy, bleached grass and withered trees in the garden-patrol ground. For a brief second, Caleb's life flashed before his eyes as the outcropping's other occupant lunged at him. A dog clamped it's teeth around Caleb's wounded left forearm as he wisely put his arm between his throat and the raging animal's teeth. Caleb buried his thumb in the dog's eye as it tried to thrash around on his arm, forcing it to let go and back off. Before the dog could recover, Caleb kicked it in the snout to get some space, grabbed his BAR and fired a clumsy shot into the dog's heaving chest as it prepared for another enraged lunge. Caleb rolled back into cover, poking his head up above the rocks to check if he'd drawn any attention. None Caleb thought to himself. He dropped to the ground as a bullet chipped across the top of the stones. Fuck, they saw me! Caleb thought as he checked himself over for any cuts from stone chips kicked around by the 10mm slug. Caleb deployed the bipod and blindfired his BAR around the side of the rocks, bracing the stock against his thigh. Once the sporadic fire from Corroto's guards stopped, Caleb rolled to the ground, only his head and right shoulder protruding from cover as he scanned the possible cover areas for any hostiles. The gangsters were being attacked from two directions now, Josef and the other two at one end, and Caleb at the other, with his BAR. Caleb squeezed off a short burstat a gangster who popped his head over cover, missing but forcing the poor bastard to move awkwardly and leave himself in plain view of Josef's companions, who put a pipe rifle shot and a generous helping of buckshot into the gangster's chest. The other pipe rifleman was probably dragging the wounded one away. Caleb fired again before shifting cover to avoid shots from a group of guards who had just emerged from the house. Shit. This is headed south . . . Caleb thought as bullets whipped around his cover from two directions. |
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Caleb Wolff, Level 7 Tribal Ranger. (Inventory) Jackal, Level 5 Glowing Ghoul. (Inventory)[/align] | |
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| HenchmenF | Sep 16 2009, 04:22 PM Post #14 |
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Wasteland leader
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Josef, stuffing the last magazine back into his pocket, turned his head towards Caleb. He was under heavy fire from the original guards that were once shooting at Josef, and from a new group of guards. “Shit! These guys are fucking crazy!” Josef yelled to his new friend. Dropping his backpack, Josef rummaged through it. After several seconds, Josef appeared with an aerosol can and his trusty lighter. Shaking both to make sure, he had fuel inside both, Josef nodded to his bearded friend. Standing up and adjusting his shemagah while breaking into a sprint, Josef prayed to whoever listened that the gangsters were looking away from Josef. Appearing from behind them, Josef struck a light with his lighter. Bringing the aerosol can up to the flame, Josef pushed down on the nozzle. Several seconds later, a great flame sprung forth, engulfing several gangsters and blasting Josef with heat. Josef repeated this with several high intensity bursts of flame. At least of the gangsters that were once shooting at Josef, and then at Caleb, were now leaping around trying to get the flames off of them. There screams pierced the air, yelling for someone to end there misery and pain. All that was left was the gangsters that piled out of the house. Josef waved to his shotgun-armed friend, signaling him to move up. The bullets from the gangsters were now whizzing past Josef, and the concrete corner of the house he was now standing behind was chipping away faster then someone could snap there fingers. “CALEB! RETURN THE DAMN FAVOR!” Josef yelled, fumbling to get his pistol out. |
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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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| Cain | Sep 16 2009, 06:06 PM Post #15 |
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Vault leader
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Bill followed the group of hunters. He took cover during the gunfire. He didn't want to get shot by a gangster, but if any happened to become "injured," the townspeople would probably be better off. After the spat at the bar, he trailed them silently but made no attempts to hide. He figured that if they wanted to talk to him they would have. He scrambled to take cover during the mansion. Until now he was hiding in whatever shrubbery or behind whatever rock looked sturdy enough, but when he heard the gentleman with the homemade flamethrower cry for assistance, he knew that he had best help the hunters out. He watched the concrete corner of the house slowly eroding and leaped into action, or at least leaped as much as a 40 year old negotiator and merchant could. Setting his briefcase down and drawing his pistol, he made a wide turn around the corner. He was banking on the mobsters being previously unaware of his presence. It barely worked. The mobsters briefly paused before one of them shouted, "Who the fuck is that?" Bill then shot his unnamed interrogator in the chest with the pistol and ran back around the corner, holding his hat and sprinting in a ridiculously animated way, looking over his shoulder to make sure none of the braver mobsters followed him. If he hadn't used the bathroom in the bar after the shootout, he would have voided his bowels. Back around the corner, he hunkered down with his fellow in arms, the man with the makeshift flamethrower. He shouted an introduction. "How do you do? I am William Beauregard, but friends call me Bill." He tipped his hat, still leery of being shot by angry mobsters. "I wish we could be more formally acquainted, but suffice it to say I'm on your side. I noticed you and your friends here in a bit of a pickle, and while I'm not inclined to participate in shootouts, I couldn't let a gaggle of goons such as your enemies continue to pin you down." |
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William "Bill" Beauregard SPECIAL: 3 5 1 10 7 5 9 Level: 2 Karma: +50 EQUIPMENT Weaponry: .32 Revolver Armor: Pre-War Businesswear INVENTORY One traveling suitcase, currently empty. One comb. LOOKS 5'9'', dark brown hair, hazel eyes. Old-west-style mustache. Skin aglow with vitality and eyes alight with zeal. Excellent posture. | |
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4:58 PM Jul 10