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| Hunters and the Hunted | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Aug 13 2016, 05:32 PM (126 Views) | |
| Eric | Aug 13 2016, 05:32 PM Post #1 |
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Vault dweller
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Eric had been relaxing after all his injuries. The fights with the raiders and the hobo had done a number to him. The down side of having any kind of downtime was the fact that it caused one to let their minds wander down various path ways. For him, this was reading all the scraps of paper and trying to get it as originated as he could. “The Rat King and his Devil Magics. Ok, yeah, this guy was insane.” Eric said as he got the last of it in place, shaking his head as he looked over the tongs he had gotten from his last little outing. “And these won't last very long at all.” Setting them aside, Eric stood up and popped his back. Pulling back on all the clothing he had been wearing, he started back out into the wasteland again. This time he was going to stick to the roads. He needed steel after all, and as far as he could figure, the cars would provide the best bet for that. Most of the roads and streets were barren and empty, cars long since rusted away or scrapped by other people. Most of what he did find would be of little use this close to Bucket Town. The woman who had shared his tent last night, much to his annoyance, decided to remain behind. “I don't even know why they show up. What the hell about me makes me so damn attractive to them?” He asked himself, shaking his head as he walked, fingers drumming across the top of an old handrail. “I'm not overly handsome, otherwise I'd just settle down in a brothel some place. I'm average at best.” As he reached deeper into the city, he stopped at an odd sound. A squeek. His hand darted up to his bat, his eyes moving quickly across the landscape. He was seeking where it came from, what it was. Could it be a raider ambush? Or a rat? A rat... One of the Rat King's? That made him shake his head. It was an insane story of an insane man driven to write it because he was lonely. Shaking his head again, he stood up and kept walking. That story had to be a falsehood, written by too much beer and radiation from a man who was one step away from becoming a feral ghoul. Once he was further into the old city, he would start getting into cars. The four and three wheeled ones some times had goodies stashed inside of them. The three wheel ones he had to be very careful with though. They could be a nightmare if the motor was damaged too much. He had seen one as a child go up in a mushroom cloud of flaming death. Climbing inside of one four wheeled car, Eric went to rooting around the glove compartment, his mind wandering back to the story. Rats would hide in places like this, and watch for the rat king. Seeking out those who would stand a challenge for the King of the Rats. Snapping back from his recall, he blinked and realized he was STILL in the car. He growled once and grabbed everything in the glove box and slammed it into his pockets. He climbed out and shook his head again, pushing himself to his feet as he started to walk again. He was looking for a car that was mostly intact, or the hood at least. When he got to another car, he was looking over it when a hand gripped his hip and a gun was pressed to his back. “Why hello there pretty boy.” A female voice said. “We been watching you. Come on, sit up.” Eric sighed deeply and stood up, his hands raised. When the woman backed off, he turned slowly around. She was a human, wearing simple armor and holding a pipe pistol and a knife on her hip. She had a lot of skin exposed and had a fair number of scars upon her. Her hair was let down and not cut like most raider women did. A frown was upon his face as he realized she wasn't alone. Two other women were with her, and they had similar equipment. “Great...” Eric mumbled, wondering how he had gotten himself into this one. “I got a hide back at camp, and what you see on me for my gear.” They were either going to kill him and take his stuff; rape him, kill him, and take his stuff; or worse yet, rape him, take his stuff, and sell him into slavery. Eric closed his eyes as he waited for the shot to ring out, but he wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of him being afraid. When he opened his eyes, several more people had arrive. Two males, four females in total, and they looked like a scouting party. “Hey. I seen you before. You killed that old fool in the office building. I remember now. Yeah.” He said, walking close to Eric and looking into his eyes.”Now, we gotta plan for you. Yeah, I think you are going to like this. If you can beat Spotty over there in a fight, we will let ya go. If ya lose, well... You belong to us.” A growl escaped Eric's lips as the man named Spotty stepped up, raising his fists and grinning at Eric. He was missing teeth and had scars across his face from where he had done this before. Eric got into the stance he was taught a long time ago. The man smirked as he moved forwards, swinging hard and meeting a block from Eric's forearm. Shifting as he counter attacked, the punch landed in the man's ribs. Eric was physically stronger, and the first impact told that tale. Eric caught a punch in the cheek and it staggered him for a moment. He caught a second punch in the ribs and stumbled back a step, his back to the car. When Spotty took another swing, Eric caught it. He wasn't going to pushed around any more for this one. He yanked him forwards, and Eric implanted his knee into the man's ribs again. He felt one break and the man gasp in pain. Now he had to press his advantage, and he slammed his forehead into the man's nose. When he staggered back, Eric grabbed his arm. His fist rained upon Spotty's elbow, slamming hard into it to try to break the bone, or at least dislocate it. His scream and the crunch was enough to tell Eric it had worked. Spotty pulled a knife and came up, slashing hard at Eric and cutting though the cloth of his armor and biting into his forearm. Eric shifted back and held the wound, the bloody raider standing up, blood covering his face and his nose bleeding badly. Part of him wanted to call cheating, but he didn't bother. This is a group of raiders, there was no cheating. He locked himself back up into his fighting stance, feeling the blood dripping down his arm slowly. When the raider lunged with the knife, Eric shifted, letting the blade slam into the car and Eric grabbing his head. With a yank and a push, Eric slammed his knee into the man's nose again, this time it was far, far harder than he had done before with his forehead. The crunching of bones was some what satisfying. Spotty fell backwards, out cold and breathing but just barely. Eric's breathing was heavy as he looked up the raider leader, who was frowning at the fallen man. Walking forwards, he shot his man in the skull, turning back to the girls. “Strip him. Let this guy go. He kept me entertained for a moment.” He said, motioning to Eric for a moment as he walked off. “Dump the body so it doesn't attract anything. Last thing we need are deathclaws in our house.” Eric worked on catching his breath and wrapping his wound with the remains of his sleeve. He used the knife to cut away the cloth and make a makeshift wrapping. His eyes went to the woman that was standing before him, she was smiling a smile that brought back painful memories. Eric suddenly felt naked under her gaze, but he did his best to steel himself under the look of the woman with piercing blue eyes. “Try not to die. Lookers like you are all too rare.” She said, patting his cheek as she turned and walked off, smirking as she did so, making her purple lips curl up in a dark way. “Besides, I already laid claim to you. Ain't no one getting what is mine now.” Shivering and shaking off the feeling, Eric went back to his task. Metal, as much as he could find of usable quality. He had to get caught back up on his work, and he needed to find out a way to keep his mind focused. Those fucking rats had to go, one way or another. It was several more hours of scouring the area for anything workable before an idea seemed to dawn on him. Toasters were needed yes, as was power, but really anything that caused heat buildup would work too. Irons would serve a dual purpose: providing the scraped steel he needed to test with, and the innards of the device would serve as heating elements. He was sitting back in the bed of a truck. A massive one at that, and simply looked to the sky. It was getting late, and he was going to need to find cover soon. The last thing Eric wanted was to be caught by a pack of feral ghouls, or anything else that stalked the night. It would be too late if he tried to walk back to the town, so his eyes scanned about for the building to use. While there was no shortage of buildings to use, it was finding safe ones that would prove to be most difficult. Small stores tended to be targets for scavengers, larger buildings usually housed some kind of advanced security, and if it seemed to fall in the middle, it could end up being a death trap anyways. At this area of the city, it was more or less a business filled area, so he had a pick, and decided upon a building that was in the middle range. This one had the look of an old furniture store. Maybe he could find some long nails to drive through his bat to help add a bit of punch to his weapon. The old slugger had seen better days. Quickly scouting out the area, he found what seemed like an office, a long couch sat along one wall. The computers had long since degraded away, but this place would do for the evening. He would pillage everything in the morning and head back to town. Pipe rifle laid next to him, and bat propped up, he watched the door, closing his eyes and soon drifting off in the silence. When he had awoken, there was something odd about it all. A napkin rested upon his chest, with a pair of purple lip prints set on it. 'To my dashing wandering – Eva' The print was sloppy at best, but it was the lipstick that had caught his eye. She scared him, brought back painful memories, and he struggled to keep his breathing under control. Several deep, calming breaths escaped him. With eyes closed, he reworked to focus himself and get away from the memories. He sat there, silent and still for what seemed like a short eternity, but when his eyes opened, he was back in control. Grabbing his gear, he sent out to finish up what he was here for. He would gather up the things he could find, pocket what he could, carry what he could not, and then headed out, working his way back to Bucket Town, unknowing of the woman who stalked him. (2019) |
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Character's Name: Eric Irons Character's Stats: S 9, P 4, E 8, C 6, I 5, A 4, L 4 Starting gear: Pipe Rifle, Baseball bat, Wastelander's clothing Traits: Sex Appeal, Automatic Man, Heavy Handed Items Aquired: Decorative Handle (Dragon Head), Small Hide x 1, Half set of pre-war bandages, Used Needles x2: | |
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| Triminac | Aug 17 2016, 02:27 PM Post #2 |
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Private Dick
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Hey Eric, I am a bit busy this week, so I'll provide some critique later. So you can keep going with RPs, here are your rewards:
You've got the supplies, you just need a heat source, and a good, strong crafting RP, and you'll have your prize. Also, still a little short on the length, so consider the Ratman problem still chasing you. Message me when you've finished it. Gonna get gud. |
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Virgil Wakes: Level 4 S(3) P(4) E(2) C(10) I(7) A(5) L(9) Bucket Town Reputation: +174 Roy Reputation: +5 D1-CK: Level 4 S:1 P:10 E:5 C:2 I: 8 A: 9 (+1) L: 5 | |
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| Mrgamerboy7777 | Sep 17 2016, 03:16 AM Post #3 |
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The Wasteland Developer
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Eric gets attacked by some ghouls! What do you do! |
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6:23 AM Jul 11