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| A genuine stickup; My First RP, anyone can join freely | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Nov 22 2009, 07:09 AM (1,114 Views) | |
| Ronto | Dec 1 2009, 05:30 AM Post #31 |
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Capt. Procrastinate
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Ben had left George and Darrel behind as he walked away to get some Zs. George knew that Darrel was not to comfortable with the plan but all he could do now was...well..nothing. He had absolutely nothing to do until tomorrow. "So, Darrel, ready for the big day tomorrow? I know were not some big geniuses and that this plan still is half-assed, but me and Ben really need this, I've been living in a goddamn ditch for the last three days. I can't afford to eat or drink a F@#kING Cola! I just want a few things to my own. And plus, you'll gain from this too!" George exclaimed trying to cheer Darrel up. |
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[align=center]Joe Pera 7,9,7,4,5,5,3 Level: 1 [/align] | |
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| Radiation King | Dec 5 2009, 10:47 AM Post #32 |
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"We can't stop here! This is bat country!"
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"No. No I'm not." Was Darrel's simple reply. There was no explanation, no moral bullshit, just a flat-out denial of the thief's readiness to take on the heist. He turned back towards his little bolt hole in the outskirts of town, and started going over the scant few belongings packed into it. Mostly there were a few scant trinkets, shiny objects scattered around the floor and table mostly, along with some rope, a butcher's hook and his Thieves' Guidebook. Snatching them up and slipping them all into the pockets around his duster, the thief retrieved his carbine, loaded it with his last few bullets, and then finally left, heading for the bar. He wanted to snag a last few drinks before his suicide run to glory... |
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Darrel Cohen, the smooth-talking "Gentleman Thief" (Level 3) Evan Laramie, the down-home gunslinger (Level 1)
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| Ronto | Dec 5 2009, 02:28 PM Post #33 |
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Capt. Procrastinate
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George admired Darrel's move. Admitting "No. No I'm not.", he walked out the door and headed to the outskirts of town. He returned about 15 minuted later with a sober expression on his face and a rifle in his hand. He explained that before he helped George's suicidal assault. He wanted "snag" a few more drinks. George had no problem with it. He bid Darrel good night and left the bar hoping to find a place to sleep. (The night passes and it's daybreak, Zero Hour) |
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[align=center]Joe Pera 7,9,7,4,5,5,3 Level: 1 [/align] | |
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| Radiation King | Dec 5 2009, 06:45 PM Post #34 |
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"We can't stop here! This is bat country!"
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(Don't go too far, I'm tired, it's late and I'm going to bed.) |
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Darrel Cohen, the smooth-talking "Gentleman Thief" (Level 3) Evan Laramie, the down-home gunslinger (Level 1)
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| Ronto | Dec 5 2009, 07:17 PM Post #35 |
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Capt. Procrastinate
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George was preparing. He readied his boots and tied them tight. He tucked his cargo pants in them and loaded his pockets with everything: A couple bandages, a water bottle and some other lucky trinkets. He tucked his shirt in his pants and put on his belt. He put on his fingerless gloves, his hat and his tool belt. George made sure his switchblade was ready at his side and pinned it on his belt. He checked his shotgun, put a shell in it and put the remaining shells in a pocket of his tool belt. George was ready to begin the plan. He rolled up his blanket and put it on his tool belt. He felt sore from the ditch he slept in but that didn't hinder his cheerful mood. Time to make a living, he thought as he headed for the bar. That's where the three men decided to meet. |
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[align=center]Joe Pera 7,9,7,4,5,5,3 Level: 1 [/align] | |
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| Radiation King | Dec 6 2009, 11:49 AM Post #36 |
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"We can't stop here! This is bat country!"
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Darrel was already at the bar when George arrived. The skinny catburglar was face-down on the bar, two drained bottles of Southern Comfort stacked next to him. When George's feet thudded into the room, the thief pried his head from a puddle of dried spittle, wiped his face off with the sleeve of his coat, and turned around. "So." The thief grunted. "Time for the heist?" |
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Darrel Cohen, the smooth-talking "Gentleman Thief" (Level 3) Evan Laramie, the down-home gunslinger (Level 1)
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| Ronto | Dec 6 2009, 02:44 PM Post #37 |
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Capt. Procrastinate
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As George flung the doors to the bar open, he was surprised to see Darrel sitting at the bar. His face was on the table along with two bottles of hard liquor. George walked up to him and Darrel asked, " So... Time for the heist?" "Hell.. yes, yes it is. St. Monica help us." George replied. He sat down beside Darrel, picked up one of his Southern Comforts and managed to get a few gulps out of it. "So... you got everything you need or should we stop by the store?" George inquired. He showed Darrel that his gun was ready and decided that it was best to wait for Ben. " We're only waiting an hour, then we go" George indicated... |
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[align=center]Joe Pera 7,9,7,4,5,5,3 Level: 1 [/align] | |
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| Toastwolf117 | Dec 7 2009, 08:27 PM Post #38 |
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Proffesional Face Puncher
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Ben lied in bed, snoring ever so loudly. He figured he might as well sleep in, as the heist was tomorrow. Wait? Was it tomorrow? What's today? Ben woke up asking himself these questions. "AW SHIT!" Ben yelled, he jumped out of bed and got dressed, grabbing his weapons and clothes. He bolted out of the rooms doors and toward the direction of the bar. AW SHIT, AW SHIT, AW SHIT, AW SHIT, AW SHIT!!! Ben was screaming in his head. When he finally reached the bar he didn't see Darrel or George. Good, maybe I'm early. Ben thought. Then again, maybe I'm not. "Hey, were two guys in here earlier? One tall with blue eyes and one with blond hair?" Ben asked the bartender. "Yeah, the were in here earlier, said they would wait for someone for an hour before leaving. That was about fifteen minutes ago." The man replied "AWWW SHIT!!!!!!" Ben screamed, ran out the door, and through the town gate, hoping to see any sign of Darrel and George. "HEEEEEEEY! WAIT UP!!!" Ben shouted at the top of his lungs. |
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Ben Ezio Lv. 2 Stats: 8-4-5-8-6-5-4 Traits: Good Natured, Fast Metabolism, Heavy Handed Ava Arsov (follower) 5,7,5,7,6,5,5 TRAITS: Good Natured, Small Frame, Sex appeal
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| Ronto | Dec 8 2009, 05:45 AM Post #39 |
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Capt. Procrastinate
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((AHAHAHAHA!!!! Nice job Wolf, awesomely funny!)) George and Darrel were walking at a slightly slower pace than usual, He hoped Ben would catch up two men. "So, I guess it's just us...so you ready" George asked At that moment George heard a slight noise behind them, the two turned around to see a crazed looking man running their way. He was half dressed, his weapons were dangling everywhere and he was screaming "OH SHIT! OH SHIT! OH SHIT!..." over and over again. It was Ben! "(Panting) Hey.. guys..sorry...I'm late." He struggled to say. "Benny Boy! Nice to see you didn't chicken out! Let's get going then." The three men then walked 2 or 3 kilometers to the outskirts of the target George began,"Right everyone, you all know the plan, Darrel takes the roof, Ben the back and I'll take the front door. We go in, get the raider bastards and take all that we can. the stuff we cant carry, we leave here for some other lucky soul. Let's do it then!" The men got in their positions ready to pounce... |
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[align=center]Joe Pera 7,9,7,4,5,5,3 Level: 1 [/align] | |
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| Radiation King | Dec 8 2009, 04:45 PM Post #40 |
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"We can't stop here! This is bat country!"
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You fucking dolt. Darrel thought to himself as the completely un-subtle, un-stealthy, un-thieflike Ben rushed up from behind, shouting like a Mirelurk had him by the bollocks. The thief's head and shoulders sank visibly as he attempted to distance himself from the group. Once he hit the raiders' safehouse, the thief tossed his meat-hook ascension rig up onto the roof, where it clattered along loosely for a few brief, tense moments before catching on a rusted railing. Darrel yanked hard on the rope, bearing down on it with all of his weight, hoping the pipe wouldn't shatter. It didn't shatter, so Darrel immediately started his ascension. Hauling on the rope as the catburglar lifted himself skillfully up the wall, Darrel completed his climb by quietly flopping over the railing and landing face down in the loose pebbles on the floor. Looking around for an entryway, the thief discovered an air vent that connected to the ducts across the cieling of the room below. Carefully removing the grate with his switchblade knife before gathering his rope and dropping into the vent, the thief made his way to a downward-facing vent and popped that one off as well, with considerable effort. The vent was rusted into place, and having depleted his supply of WD-40 before arriving in Bucket Town the first time, the thief had to work slowly and carefully to pry out the rusted appliance without making too much noise, and without much strength and space to work with the task was made all the more difficult. Slipping down onto the floor and into the shadows, Darrel waited for a time where he could make his move. |
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Darrel Cohen, the smooth-talking "Gentleman Thief" (Level 3) Evan Laramie, the down-home gunslinger (Level 1)
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| Toastwolf117 | Dec 8 2009, 05:08 PM Post #41 |
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Proffesional Face Puncher
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After Ben finished gasping for breath, he proceeded around the building to the back door. As he passed Darrel scrambling up he side of the building, Ben spied the back door. He walked up to it, adjusting some clothes that he had hastily thrown on before, and silently opened the door. Without alerting the raiders in the building, he saw the prize. Dozens of boxes stacked to the brim with supplies, food, and more importantly, guns. "Hot damn." Ben whispered to himself, smiling. He was close enough to the guards to make out some conversation. "So with all this we can totally-" Ben couldn't hear what he said. "-with enough supplies to last a lifetime!" the first guard said. "Well lets just hope-" "-steals it!" the other guard said, and started to laugh. The first guard laughed too. "And if someone try's-" "we got this!" The first guard brandished a Chinese Assault Rifle. Ben's eyes widened in fear. "And this!" The second guard said, and proceeded to toss a frag grenade up into the air. I gotta tell George! |
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Ben Ezio Lv. 2 Stats: 8-4-5-8-6-5-4 Traits: Good Natured, Fast Metabolism, Heavy Handed Ava Arsov (follower) 5,7,5,7,6,5,5 TRAITS: Good Natured, Small Frame, Sex appeal
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| Ronto | Dec 8 2009, 05:43 PM Post #42 |
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Capt. Procrastinate
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This is it...time to do what I do best, George thought as he made his way to the front of the raider's safe house. The door was locked but George had an idea. He took a piece of glass, put it by the door and saw inside. There were four of them, two smoking, one drinking and the others were generally fucking about. I fuckin' call dibs on some armor and ammo, George thought. Ben was in his position and George figured he'd be the one starting this fight. He waved at Ben and went in. Ben started yelling at George but George ignored it, he went in brandished his shotgun. There were 4 guards and George shot the one with the frag grenade. It hadn't been set off. He then dropped his shotgun, pulled out his blade and jumped in. Ben then started firing his own gun and jumping in. WHERE THE FUCK IS DARREL!?!?!?!?!, George screamed. Just in time, Darrel joined in, firing his rusty old carbine. About 4 minutes later it was over, gore was everywhere and George was stained in blood. "C'mon, lets grab all that we can and go!" he said. George ditched his current bloody shirt and pants and looked into some boxes, Wow, clothes and ammo and guns, he thought as he grabbed an undershirt. Ben and Darrel also entered the main room and dug in. George decided he would get a new gun, he ditched his shitty shotgun for a rusty .32 bolt action rifle. He then took two boxes of ammo for. He headed to the corpses of the raiders and found 15 chips, a Zippo and a pack of cigarettes. He was happy but he wanted to outfit himself better. He took a black canvas shirt, brown leather boots and a heavy duster. He put his bandoleer across his shoulder and his tool belt on his waist. He grabbed a pair of biker goggles and put them on his hat. He was ready to go. |
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[align=center]Joe Pera 7,9,7,4,5,5,3 Level: 1 [/align] | |
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| Radiation King | Dec 8 2009, 06:00 PM Post #43 |
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"We can't stop here! This is bat country!"
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"God damnit!" Darrel lifted his carbine just as Ben and George, in blatant defiance of the plan, put their hands to their guns and opened fire on a heavily armed group of raiders with clear superior training and numbers. Weighing his options- stay hidden and not die, or fire and keep the extra pockets- the thief shouted a wordless cry of rage, aggrivation and generally bad vibrations, raised his carbine, and emptied his last seven rounds into the group of raiders, managing to just barely wound the group with his poor knowledge of guns, lack of steady aim and rage-induced shuddering. When all was said and done, the enfilade the three thieves had established had worked better than the catburgler could have predicted. It hadn't gone swimmingly, but no-one was dead... Yet. As George moved up to start looting the containers, Darrel released his grip on the carbine's trigger, moved his left hand up to the grip, brought it up like a baseball bat, wound up and let loose a vicious swing at George's head. By some stroke of luck, the amatuer didn't hear Darrel coming (or at least ignored him) and kept to his business, so the whistling gun-stock caught him full force on the broad side of his head. The hard swing sprawled George out on the floor, and Darrel wasted no time in delivering a well-aimed kick to the groin, causing him to double up. "You fucking piece of shit!" Darrel shouted at the top of his lungs, inbetween more poorly aimed, I'm-proving-a-point-so-shut-your-damn-face-hole kicks to George's prone form. "Did you even hear what I said about discretion back at the bar!? Your bone-headed antics back there could've gotten us all fucking killed! I said we needed to be stealthy for a reason!" Darrel relented for a second, stepping back to help himself to some of the loot without breaking off his speech. "God damn you, what if Ben got hurt!?" The thief loaded his carbine from a small tin of .32 rounds, then dumped the remainder of them into his own tin. "What if you got hurt, god damnit!? What if all of us were sprawled out on the floor with our guts hangin' out instead of those poor bastards?! You couldn't keep yourself from shooting the shit out of these people, and if you had just planned a bit better, you took un-necessary risks! YOU COULD HAVE LEFT US TO THE FUCKING BUZZARDS BECAUSE YOU THOUGHT IT WOULD BE EASY TO JUST WALTZ IN HERE, SHOOT EVERYTHING AND SKIP AWAY WITH THE LOOT!" Darrel was good and into his rage now, shaking all over. "THEFT ISN'T THE PLACE FOR TOYING WITH OTHER PEOPLES' LIVES!" |
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Darrel Cohen, the smooth-talking "Gentleman Thief" (Level 3) Evan Laramie, the down-home gunslinger (Level 1)
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| Ronto | Dec 8 2009, 06:18 PM Post #44 |
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Capt. Procrastinate
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George got dressed and loaded his new gun. He walked into the next room to find Darrel swing his rifle at his head, he collapsed on the ground as Darrel started blowing kicks to his abdomen. George was burning on the inside when Darrel started screaming, "Did you even hear what I said about discretion back at the bar!? Your bone-headed antics back there could've gotten us all fucking killed! I said we needed to be stealthy for a reason!" He hit George again, "God damn you, what if Ben got hurt!?....What if you got hurt, god damnit!? What if all of us were sprawled out on the floor with our guts hangin' out instead of those poor bastards?! You couldn't keep yourself from shooting the shit out of these people, and if you had just planned a bit better, you took un-necessary risks! YOU COULD HAVE LEFT US TO THE FUCKING BUZZARDS BECAUSE YOU THOUGHT IT WOULD BE EASY TO JUST WALTZ IN HERE, SHOOT EVERYTHING AND SKIP AWAY WITH THE LOOT!" Darrel let up and loaded his gun. George stood up and caught his breath, "I'm......fuck......I'm sorry. I know I fucked up.(Coughs) I just.....fuck it....your right...let's just get the fuck out of here, get what you want, I'm out of here." George picked up the other goods he collected and went outside. |
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[align=center]Joe Pera 7,9,7,4,5,5,3 Level: 1 [/align] | |
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| Radiation King | Dec 8 2009, 06:35 PM Post #45 |
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"We can't stop here! This is bat country!"
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Darrel grunted and waited for George's pained, shambling form to retreat out the front door before he turned away from the crate he was looting and puked. The long, wet expulsions went on until breakfast, lunch, dinner, snacktime and "Happy Hour" from the 48 straight hours were on the concrete floor at his feet. At that point Darrel continued dry-heaving until his knees shook and his abdomen ached and quivered like jellied fire. He hated unfounded violence. But somehow, here, beating the tar out of this poor, down-on-his-luck dude, made him feel even worse than any and every death he had ever caused. He spat out a gob of phlegm, took a swig from his hip flask, cleaned out his mouth and then spat again for good measure. Darrel looted whatever he thought he could use later from the crates, stuffed them into his duster's hidden pockets, then slumped his shoulders, headed out the back door and straight towards Bucket Town, not even looking at Ben as he passed. |
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Darrel Cohen, the smooth-talking "Gentleman Thief" (Level 3) Evan Laramie, the down-home gunslinger (Level 1)
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