Welcome Guest
[Log In]
[Register]
| Welcome to The Wastes. We hope you enjoy your visit. You're currently viewing our forum as a guest. This means you are limited to certain areas of the board and there are some features you can't use. If you join our community, you'll be able to access member-only sections, and use many member-only features such as customizing your profile, sending personal messages, and voting in polls. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free. Join our community! If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
| O'Boyle brings the pain.; Final event mission. | |
|---|---|
| Tweet Topic Started: Sep 10 2009, 07:10 PM (984 Views) | |
| Run4 | Sep 17 2009, 09:52 AM Post #16 |
![]()
Iron Crow
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
Caleb was trying to bury himself in his rocky cover now as bullets chipped up the ground and threw up clods of dirt and little chunks of stone. Caleb fired his BAR at the gangsters trying to flank him , scattering them and killing two with a sustained burst. That's what you get for using shrubs as cover. His ammunition drum clicked empty at long last as he tried to keep the gangsters at the door pinned down. Fumbling through his bag, Caleb finally caught a hold of another drum magazine and slapped it into place at the receiver, swearing as he pinched his fingertip on the bolt as he chambered a bullet. Caleb fired at the guards at the door again, scattering them or forcing them back inside. One of them overshot his target, the ditch that probably led to the basement, landing awkwardly in the patch yellow grass two feet away. Caleb didn't give him a chance to recover, firing a quick burst and clipping the man's thigh with one bullet. The man fell, blood fountaining from his femoral artery. Caleb breathed a sigh of relief at the wound turning out to be fatal. One less gangster to return fire. Caleb took his brief respite from enemy bullets to sprint back to the dence and vault over it, barely missing the spikes on top of the pig iron fence. Caleb landed, rolled, and then snatched his BAR from where he'd dropped it, then crawled on his belly to the better cover of a nearby ruined building. He needed to reconsider what to do now. He switched the fire selector on his oddball BAR to semi-automatic and took a careful aim at one of the door gangsters. He didn't miss by much, chipping away a piece of the door pillar next to the gangster's neck. The gangster dived to the ground almost comically as he held his hat on in preference of not falling on his face. Caleb raised a hand, catching Josef's attention. He moved his hand in a circular motion, while motioning for the other hunters to follow Josef. There was a newcomer, but as he was firing at the gangsters, Caleb assumed he was reinforcements from O'Boyle. Caleb motioned for the hunters and Josef to flank while he laid down some covering fire. Caleb then flattened himself to the ground as 10mm fire peppered the wall in front of him. |
[align=center]![]()
Caleb Wolff, Level 7 Tribal Ranger. (Inventory) Jackal, Level 5 Glowing Ghoul. (Inventory)[/align] | |
![]() |
|
| HenchmenF | Sep 17 2009, 04:00 PM Post #17 |
|
Wasteland leader
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
“Oh, well. Thanks man.” Josef said to the newcomer. Out of the corner of his eye, Josef saw movement from Caleb. Realizing that he was telling him to go flank the gangsters, Josef laid a hand on the newcomer. What is his name….Bob…Ill….no…wait, Bill! Josef thought, his eyes looking upwards as he tried to get an answer out of his swirling head. “Bill, names Josef. You just joined the good fight.” Josef said sarcastically. Opening his backpack and pulling out his pistol, Josef stuffed both the aerosol can and lighter into his jeans pocket. Nodding to Bill and signaling the hunters to follow him, Josef moved into a low crouch. Keeping his pistol trained forward, he stopped his sawed-off shotgun friend. “Never caught your name. Names Josef.” Josef asked, talking in a stage whisper. “Paul. Names Paul.” The bearded short man replied, clapping Josef on the back before moving back in line. Sneaking around the house, Josef and the few hunters didn’t encounter any of Corrotos goons. Luckily, there wasn’t a whole lot of things around that if you bump into, you make a lot of noise. Stopping at a corner of Corrotos manor, Josef waved Bill forward to his position. Popping his head out of the corner and scanning the area in front of him, Josef looked at Bill. “Bill, stay here with a couple of the hunters. If any of these goons try and flank us, mow them down.” Josef said as he took out the aerosol can and lighter. Just open a window near those thugs, stick the nozzle into the window and light ‘em up Josef. Josef thought to himself, adjusting his makeshift shemagah so it only showed his two eyes, glazed over from his Jet Addiction. Shit, I need to hit some jet up too, after this Josef thought to himself, waiting for Bills response. |
|
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 | |
![]() |
|
| Cain | Sep 17 2009, 06:43 PM Post #18 |
|
Vault leader
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
Bill listened attentively to Josef's instructions. He couldn't hear anyone approaching, but checked his pistol for ammo. He had fired one shot at Everett's and one here, meaning he had four shots left. He didn't expect to be using up this much ammo. It appeared that he had underestimated the nature of the wastes. With a rightward flick of the wrist, he snapped the revolving chamber back into place. As Josef was getting ready to light some peons up like a pre-War Christmas tree, Bill heard footsteps. He motioned for the small group of hunters with him to get against the wall. Not wanting to waste ammo on an unimportant pawn, Bill decided to try something new. He fanned the hammer back on his pistol, waiting for the henchman to come around the corner. Sure enough, he came lumbering around the corner, toting a hunting rifle. Sticking with what he knew, Bill spoke in a calm, polite, businesslike manner. "That's far enough, you degenerate. What you're going to do for me now is take the ammunition out of your rifle there and hand it to me, and then you're going to run far away from here. If you're totally silent I might let you get to the gate there without sending you to your maker." Bill seemed calm on the outside but was shaking in his figurative boots on the inside. The presence of the hunters calmed him and discouraged the mafioso from doing anything unsightly. The goon was sweating rivers, silent as a mouse, as he took the ammunition out of his weapon. Bill wasn't sure if he was really that convincing or if his piece was what convinced the thug. He extended his hand and the thug put 2 .32 caliber rounds in it. Bill pocketed them, and motioned for the thug to be on his merry way. The hunters, once the goon had cleared the gate, looked at Bill quizzically. "I don't expect him to have a stunning revelation, but everyone deserves a second chance. Some food for your thought, gentlemen." The hunters nodded, mumbling in agreement. Bill looked around the corner and saw no more goons coming around the corner, but did not want to risk it. He wasn't sure how many more acting performances he could put on, nor was he sure of how much more philosophy the hunters could take. He checked on Josef's progress. |
|
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. | |
![]() |
|
| Run4 | Sep 19 2009, 09:52 AM Post #19 |
![]()
Iron Crow
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
Caleb was having little trouble drawing the gangster's fire, after all, he was the one with the BAR spitting 7.62 slugs at them. Then the worst thing that could possibly happen happened. The gun clicked empty again. Caleb blinked awkwardly and fumbled through his bag for another ammunition drum. Nothing. In spite of them being bigger than anything else he had in that bag, Caleb searched the bag again in case he had missed them among the other four or five items in that bag. Nothing again. Caleb swore. He slung his bag and BAR and drew his 10mm Pistol, holding the hefty weapon in his right hand while he vaulted the wall with his left. Taking off at a sprint, Caleb jumped over the fence, clearing it and dropping into the ditch on the inside of the compound, where he lay flat on his back as bullets hammered into the fence and wall above him. He scrambled out of the ditch, crawling as fast towards the rocks from earlier as fast as he could, half running, half crawling the last five yards. Crouching and flicking the safety off his pistol, Caleb prepared to pop over cover and take a few shots at the door guards. Caleb watched in disbelief as a dog rounded cover and charged at him. Caleb didn't fire, he needed those bullets for the men with the guns. As the dog lunged at him, Caleb kicked it to the side while he fumbled around with his gunstock club, trying to pull it from it's sling without standing up and eating a bullet. He kicked at the dog again, knocking it to the ground. Not giving it a chance to get up and go at him again, Caleb pinned the dog in a head-scissors and finally extricated his club from his belt, immediately swinging the spike on the outer curve down between the dog's eyes, killing it with a sad yelp. Caleb couldn't help thinking about the hunting dogs his tribe used when he heard that sound. He hated killing dogs. Caleb looked around for the next piece of cover to make a dash for as the door guards took pot shots at his cover. A hollow in the ground with a large chunk of crumbling masonry jutting out of it. A remnant of a time when fire rained from the sky. Caleb popped his head over the top and opened fire on the gangsters at the doors, missing, but miraculously shattering a window above one of them and dropping chunks of broken glass on an unfortunate gangster. The man fell, injured, but not killed. He wouldn't be up to much anytime soon. As the other gangsters jumped or scrambled away from the falling glass, Caleb took the opportunity to sprint for the hollow and dived begind the lump of wall embedded in it. He was getting ever-closer to the gangsters, and was just in range to be able to start taking a real toll on them with his new, unfamiliar pistol. "Things are gonna get messy pretty soon," Caleb said to himself, poking his head out at the bottom of the wall to check for where the gangsters were now. All in cover. Caleb grunted at that. Where the hell was Josef with the other hunters? |
[align=center]![]()
Caleb Wolff, Level 7 Tribal Ranger. (Inventory) Jackal, Level 5 Glowing Ghoul. (Inventory)[/align] | |
![]() |
|
| HenchmenF | Sep 20 2009, 03:53 PM Post #20 |
|
Wasteland leader
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
Josef, shaking both the can of aerosol and lighter just to be sure that they both had some juice in it, kicked one of the few remaining glass windows open. Inside was a small holdout of gangsters. They would soon breathe there last, feel there last, and think there last. Sticking his hand with the lighter into the room, Josef made a quick hand motion to ignite the lighter. With the small flame burning, Josef pushed down on the nozzle to send what little amount of hair spray that was left in the can forward. The two met, and flame erupted. From outside, all Josef could hear was the gangsters screaming. Looking out of the corner of his eye, Josef could see one trying to pat down the flames with clung to him, like a baby to a blanket. Instead of simply putting a bullet in between the mans eyes to end his misery, Josef simply kneeled over and began vomiting. Of course, he had to pull the bottom part of his shemagah out of the way so the vomit wasn’t stuck there until he could get that washed. The bullets stopped flying around after Josef lit the gangsters of fire, but, Josef still hobbled off to some form of cover. ((OOC: Sorry for not posting in a couple of days, something came up and I didn’t have computer access)) |
|
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 | |
![]() |
|
| Cain | Sep 20 2009, 07:31 PM Post #21 |
|
Vault leader
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
(OOC: I can't believe this! I spent easily an hour writing up a good response and Firefox just wipes the slate clean! It's absolutely infuriating! I guess I'll just condense it all into a shell of the original since I should have been in bed an hour ago.) Bill saw the same man that had caused Josef to keel over. Living most of his life in an estate chock-full of booby traps of all sorts meant that this was not the most gruesome death he had ever seen, but it was still deeply unsettling. Something about the long, drawn out nature of it all seemed to be fundamentally wrong. With a glance to Josef, he said, "Don't worry, I'll end this peacefully." He motioned for his hunters (4, all armed with pipe rifles) to follow and cover him. He knew what he had to do, and with his small squad of hunters, calmly entered the mansion through the window that Josef had used to mount his assault earlier. "I'm going to say a few words. When I give the signal, send these men on their way as painlessly as you can." The hunters nodded. Bill cleared his throat and spoke in a calming manner. "Then I heard a voice from heaven say, 'Write: Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from now on.' 'Yes,' says the Spirit, 'they will rest from their labor, for their deeds will follow them.' " Bill looked at the hunters and nodded. Four shots rang out and four lives were extinguished. The flames still burned on. The room grew eerily silent. Bill could hear rustlings in other rooms of the manor but he was far removed from it. It was all he could do for these men to give them a final rite of sorts, and somehow still not enough. But then, that was the way of the wastes, it seemed. Bill removed his hat and bowed his head as a sign of reverence for the dead, then walked outside, placing it back on his head. He walked over to Josef. "It's over now. They go to meet their maker. Are you all right?" |
|
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. | |
![]() |
|
| Run4 | Sep 21 2009, 09:24 AM Post #22 |
![]()
Iron Crow
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
At the far end of the house, Caleb was having less luck. There were still two men outside the front door firing at him with carbines as he crouched behind his cover. The firing suddenly stopped as one of the gangsters shouted about waiting for Caleb to stick his head up. One of them knew what he was at. Probably a bounty hunter or mercenary from a bigger town brought in by Corroto's promises of money and unchecked power over a town. Caleb had to admit, the concept of being rich and having freedom to act with impunity was an inviting one. But for now, Caleb and this not-so-different man were on different sides of the wire. Caleb looked around for cover closer to the gangsters. There'd be no way he could get a decent shot at this distance before those two perforated him. His hand was forced as he heard the gentle fwocka fwocka of a lit molotov cocktail spinning through the air. With the sound of shattering glass, flames washed over Caleb cover, forcing the hunter to sprint for the corner of the house, diving the last eight feet, now running on pure adrenaline as he desperately slapped out the flames on his trousers and scrambled to get into position to shoot at these guys. He poked his head around the corner and was met by a hail of panicked, desperate fire from the less experienced shooter, while the one who had called for calm earlier lined up a shot. Caleb was back behind cover before a telling blow could be struck, screwing his eyes shut as he tried to calm his ragged breathing. Caleb stood up slowly and quietly, looking hesitantly into the window of the room he had been huddled outside. No one inside. Whatever Josef and the others had done at the far end of the house had drawn some attention. Caleb unslung his club and levered the window open carefully, to avoid a shower of glash shards. That done, Caleb climbed awkwardly in the window and looked around for a second, taking better stock of his surroundings. The smell of burning flesh reached his nostrils. He wretched as he crawled across the room and grabbed an ornately carved mahogany chair. Taking a firm grip of the piece of antique furniture, Caleb got to his feet and lobbed the chair through the front window of the house, on top of one of the gangsters outside, who were still keeping an eye on his corner of the house. Caleb threw an ancient sewing machine through the window to clear the frame of any leftover shards before leaping out on top of his one-time attackers. Caleb punched one of them where he lay, then spun and grabbed the other, slamming his head against the base of the wall. Caleb then rolled over to gain a little momentum and kicked his shin into the other man's face as he tried to get back up. Then, grabbing a large, razor-sharp shard of glass from the window, Caleb spun back, slashing the other man's throat. Caleb tossed the shard away before launching himself after the other man, obviously the experienced hunter as he rolled and raised a knee and an elbow to meet Caleb as the tribal lawbringer crashed down on him, leaving both men winded and dazed. The gangster recovered first. He rolled on top of Caleb, wrapping wiry, but deceptively strong hands around Caleb's neck. Caleb dug his thumb into one of the myriad cuts over the gangster's body from the window breaking above him, forcing a scream and a loosening grip. His vision clearing again, Caleb grabbed a fistful of the gangster's hair and punched him in the face before rolling him off. Still on the ground, the gangster kicked at Caleb, catching Caleb's leg, sending him back to the patchy grass and dirt. They both rolled to their feet and swung at each other. Both tired, but both too wary of the other's skill to reach for their sidearms. With the reach advantage, Caleb had landed two jabs before the gangster was close enough to respond, his body blow sloppy from the two bone-rattling impacts to his face, but no less effective for it as Caleb grunted and failed to roll with the punch. Caleb used his elbow to absorb the next impact as he landed his own return body blow to the gangster's floating ribs, staggering the gangster. Caleb followed up with the same hand, striking downwards just below gangster's heart and winding him. Caleb's follow up head-level hook punch put the ganster down for the count as Caleb drew his 10mm Pistol and fired into the back of the gangster's head before he could get back up. Caleb grunted and limped back towards the house, his thigh aching from the kick and his neckaching from the attempted strangling, and his hand was bleeding from using the glass shard as a makeshift knife. Adrenaline was still concealing the damage done by the body shot, but Caleb was pretty sure he'd be feeling that too as he climbed in through the shattered window and sat down on a chair for a minute or two. "Holy shit," Caleb muttered as he tore a strip from the armchair's upholstery and bandaged his hand with it before venturing towards the end of the manor he had sent Josef and the other hunters to, his pistol drawn and ready. |
[align=center]![]()
Caleb Wolff, Level 7 Tribal Ranger. (Inventory) Jackal, Level 5 Glowing Ghoul. (Inventory)[/align] | |
![]() |
|
| HenchmenF | Sep 22 2009, 03:10 PM Post #23 |
|
Wasteland leader
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
Standing up from his vomiting spree, Josef looked around. Bill, the new guy, had left to go finish off the few mobsters still alive in the small little sub-level. Hearing footsteps, Josef drawed his weapon. Instead, Caleb walked around the corner. He looked like he was injured. Turning back to the hunters, he shouted at them. “Anybody got something for Caleb?” Josef shouted. One of the hunters moved up and began to work on Caleb. Josef walked over to Caleb and leaned on the wall near him. “Hell of a day, ain’t it?” Josef asked, pulling his shemgah up again. He still gripped his Chinese Pistol, ready for a random attack by Corrots forces. Paul was standing nearby. Josef waved for Paul to come closer. He seems like an alright guy. Josef thought as Paul got closer. Patting Paul on the back, Josef turned towards Caleb. “Caleb, meet Paul. Paul, Caleb.” Josef said, introducing both of his friends to each other. |
|
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 | |
![]() |
|
| Cain | Sep 23 2009, 05:22 PM Post #24 |
|
Vault leader
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
"Well," Bill said to himself, "That happened." It was eerily quiet in the room. Bill didn't want to linger long, so he exited the room and approached Josef and his friend and the hunters, motioning for "his" group of hunters to come with him. Josef seemed to be holding up well, and his friend, though slightly injured, was receiving treatment. "I don't think we've met, stranger. My name is William Beauregard, but friends call me Bill. I sincerely hope that we may one day be friends." Bill looked around. "How are the men holding up? Are you two alright? I certainly hope so. I'm no doctor, myself. I wish I could be of more use but my skills are of a more diplomatic nature. I hope you understand." |
|
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. | |
![]() |
|
| Run4 | Sep 24 2009, 08:01 AM Post #25 |
![]()
Iron Crow
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
Caleb nodded to Bill. Diplomatically skilled. What good was that in the Wastes? What good was that working with a group of hunters. Caleb stopped that train of thought with the proverbial penny on the tracks as it dawned on him how useful someone persuasive would be for this particular operation. One, he might be able to convince Corroto to come along quietly and maybe even convince him to order the guards to stand down, two, he might be able to quell any mob that might try to rush them for shooting up several people, and three, he could probably interpret Caleb's body language better than other people and Caleb wouldn't have to talk as much to convey a point. "Good to meet you William. If we make it out of this hunt, we may well end up friends," Caleb said, barely wincing as the hunter pulled shards and splinters of glass from his arms and shoulders from rolling over the shattered window in the fight outside. Caleb spun as he heard a noise behind him, drawing his pistol and aiming at the source of the sound in one fluid motion. A housecat. Caleb relaxed, but just as he was about to lower his weapon, a smoke grenade rolled into the room, spinning gently on the floor. Caleb dived away from the hunter fixing him up and tried to kick the grenade back the way it came. He aimed wrong and sent the spinning smokescreen into the corner, where it belched out an ever-thickening stream of thick grey smoke. Caleb and the hunters took cover immediately, crouching behind a bar in the corner of the room. Caleb grabbed a bottle of vodka from the cupboard behind the bar and took a swig. Then he motioned for Josef to pass him his lighter as bullets started to fly from the hallway beyond, leaving little bright areas through the smoke for a short time. Caleb's reasoning for planning a molotov cocktail was that if they weren't going to get their hands on Corroto, then the drug running, thug hiring scum would burn in his manor on the hill. |
[align=center]![]()
Caleb Wolff, Level 7 Tribal Ranger. (Inventory) Jackal, Level 5 Glowing Ghoul. (Inventory)[/align] | |
![]() |
|
| Run4 | Sep 30 2009, 06:15 AM Post #26 |
![]()
Iron Crow
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
((OOC:Right, I think it's time to get this back on the rails. Cain, as soon as you're ready, you can post. Then we just alternate til Hench gets back from wherever he is)) |
[align=center]![]()
Caleb Wolff, Level 7 Tribal Ranger. (Inventory) Jackal, Level 5 Glowing Ghoul. (Inventory)[/align] | |
![]() |
|
| Cain | Oct 1 2009, 07:13 PM Post #27 |
|
Vault leader
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
(OOC: Expect a post either tomorrow or Sunday. Right now I have 1.4 assloads of Precal homework.) |
|
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. | |
![]() |
|
| HenchmenF | Oct 3 2009, 03:03 PM Post #28 |
|
Wasteland leader
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
Feeling a light poke in the arm, Josef turned his head to see Caleb asking for his lighter. Fumbling around and getting his lighter out, all under fire, Josef handed it to Caleb. Taking a deep breath, Josef stood up from behind the bar that he was crouching down behind in order to fire. Firing several shots quickly, Josef ducked back down. However, something was wrong with his pistol. The barrel seemed…well…bent a little. “The fuck?” Josef said, doing a cursory examination, not knowing what to look for. Shrugging, Josef stood up again and pulled the trigger. Expecting the flash of the bullet leaving the gun barrel, or the feel of the kick from the pistol, Josef simply got his barrel’s end spilt open like a banana. That left him standing up, broken gun in hand, and a confused look at his face. All Josef could do was simply just stare at the gun. On the other side of the hallway, bullets still poured through the smoke, hitting the area around Josef. Smashing bottles behind him, Josef began to duck down. He wasn’t quick enough. A bullet sailed straight through the smoke, the haze towards Josef. Josef maybe had a spilt-second to react before that bullet entered his forehead, traveled through his brain, and exited out of the base of his skull. Brain matter and blood splashed up on the wall behind him, covering Caleb and Will with blood. Falling to the ground lifelessly, Josef was dead before he even hit the ground. ((OOC: Sorry guys, but, I just lost inspiration to play as Josef. I will be making another character, but, until then…well, sorry. Plus, I just haven’t been active enough lately. When school and stuff calms down I’ll be back.)) |
|
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 | |
![]() |
|
| Cain | Oct 4 2009, 09:26 AM Post #29 |
|
Vault leader
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
Bill was jolted by the sudden splatter of warm blood across his face and chest. "No!" Damn this wasteland. It was always taking the lives of young men like Josef all too soon, and for what? Was there really a point in trying to rebuild something that was already so fundamentally broken? Was there a reason why this young man, who had so much to live for, had to be silenced so soon in his life? It did not matter, Bill thought. He would make those responsible pay for their actions. Had they not condemned themselves to lives of violence and vice they would not need to be firing back. But now, Bill thought, they would pay for years of selling their bullets to the highest bidder. Bill ran to Josef's lifeless form. He looked at the boy's ruined countenance, sobbing quietly to himself. I've seen some pretty horrible things. I've seen men crushed under the weight of the very ceiling due to their own greed, still trying to grab at their worthless treasures even as they die. I've seen friendships destroyed at my own front door. But this, this is just sick. Bill dried his eyes and spoke to Caleb. "Grab his lighter and whatever else you need. We're outnumbered, and we're not going to win with brute strength. No, we need to be clever. I suggest we play dead and then ambush them. What do you think?" |
|
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. | |
![]() |
|
| Run4 | Oct 4 2009, 10:23 AM Post #30 |
![]()
Iron Crow
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
Caleb stared, dead-faced at Josef's body, with thegap between the eyes, and the gaping hole in the back of his head. Caleb rubbed his face. Then ran a hand over his blood-caked dreadlocks. He heard Bill say something, but it seemed distant. Like he was shouting over a roaring wind. So many hunters killed by Corroto's men. And now Josef. Caleb had worked with him more than any of the people he knew in this town. He heard Bill say something about brute force. Caleb smiled, liking that idea. He grabbed Josef's switchblade and his wrecked pistol. He'd come back for the body later, once Corroto was safely hogtied. Caleb grabbed a heavy champagne bottle and dropped flat to the ground, looking below the smoke. He spotted a pair of feet moving slowly through the room, lower legs shifting as the man moved around, seeking targets. Caleb noted the place of the feet and threw the champagne bottle through the smoke. There was a thunk, a grunt and a clatter as the mobster brought his hands to his broken nose and dropped his gun. Caleb grabbed the cable from what he thought might have been a television and pulled it from the appliance with a short, sharp tug. The mobster was now fumbling through the smoke, his nose pumping blood and groping for his weapon as the smoke stung his eyes, his goggles having been cracked when they saved his eyes from a speeding champagne bottle. The smoke swirled as something large moved through it at high speed and a decent height. Caleb vaulted the minibar and crashed shoulder-first into the mobster's chest, knocking him to the ground. Caleb drew his pistol and fired into the clearing smoke, winging another mobster as he leaned into the room to fire his shotgun. The gangster who Caleb had divebombed lunged for his weapon, but Caleb was having none of it, and brought his boot-heel down on the back of the mobster's head before putting him in a head-scissors lock. As the mobster struggled to get to his revolver, Caleb heaved him away, before rolling and sitting on top of the mobster's chest, knocking the wind out of him. Caleb then looped his cable around the mobster's neck and tightened, getting enough slack to punch the gangster in the face while he strangled him. Caleb rained punch after punch down on the mobster's face while keeping the cable tight around his neck, each heavy punch bouncing the back of the gangster's head against the hardwood floor as Caleb took out his anger on the gangster's head. He punched over and over and over, beating the head of the gangster he assumed shot Josef. Caleb snarled and punched over and over until nothing of the gangster's face remained but the slick of blood, snot and brains all over Caleb's knuckle-gloved hands, forearms, and a caved-in skull. The gangster had stopped struggling a long time ago as his friend crawled around to take a shot at Caleb, missing the big Tribal with his revolver shot as pain blurred his vision. Caleb diving-rolled into the debatable cover of an oak table which he kicked over to block the gangster's aim as much as put two inches of timber between Caleb and the mobster. Caleb's breathing quickened. He was pissed. His friend had been killed, right in front of him. Caleb watched Bill haul Josef's body to cover. Bill was a good man. Caleb looked around the side through the still not-quite-cleared smoke to see the injured gangster lying passed out from pain and possible blood-loss. Caleb didn't care. He nodded to Bill, who seemed a little shocked at Caleb's sudden outburst, until Bill made a motion the Caleb assumed meant lay down and play dead. Caleb's opportunity to play along came when a pair of gangsters popped cover and opened fire into the room, penetrating the table in two places. Caleb lay down, letting his hand drop out at the side of the table, drenched in blood as it was. It looked good. |
[align=center]![]()
Caleb Wolff, Level 7 Tribal Ranger. (Inventory) Jackal, Level 5 Glowing Ghoul. (Inventory)[/align] | |
![]() |
|
| 1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous) | |
| Go to Next Page | |
| « Previous Topic · In the Wastes · Next Topic » |
| Theme: Zeta Original | Track Topic · E-mail Topic |
4:58 PM Jul 10
|





![]](http://z1.ifrm.com/static/1/pip_r.png)



4:58 PM Jul 10