News: "Your pale heart holds the key."

Project RP
 

Welcome, Guest. Please login or register.
May 21, 2022, 03:05:59 PM

Login with username, password and session length
Pages: [1] 2
  Print  
Author Topic: Breaking  (Read 11065 times)
Danny
Administrator
Exhalted Member
*****

Karma: 15
Posts: 1929

The Gentleman Bastard


View Profile WWW
« on: September 07, 2016, 06:01:28 PM »

A trio of raiders, two men and a woman, carelessly picked through the remains of a caravan they had just hit. It was an unusually fortunate find, being so far west of Diamond City and just a little north of the Glowing Sea. The traders were just standing around in the shadow of the wrecked overpass. Didn't matter to some of the raiders why; they had just scored big time.  

One of the men was frantically going through one of the brahmins packs, grunting and tossing junk over his shoulder. The other man and woman were searching the bodies.

The woman rolled the body of a female trader over. She sighed as the girl's lifeless expression passed by and her already stiff, bullet riddled carcass came to rest. She was disappointed; there was no fight. She was quick to shake off those thoughts, however. All that mattered was that they returned to base to satisfy. That's all that mattered. That He was satisfied.

"Fusion core!" The raider by the brahmin declared, "Aw yes, yes yes yes. Big Boss is gonna like this one, aint he?"

The woman looked away from the body and saw the raider junkie triumphantly holding the core over his head. She immediately wanted to kill him. Too much psycho. "Let's wrap this up," she said, with authority.
« Last Edit: February 06, 2017, 02:55:17 AM by SamuraiBebop » Logged
Spartan-777
Global Moderator
Member
*****

Karma: 11
Posts: 742

The Violent Cartographer


View Profile WWW
« Reply #1 on: September 11, 2016, 05:14:10 AM »

A dark sillouhette slipped through the trees as the sun sunk low on the horizon. His movements were meandering, but methodical. And although it would have taken him minutes to reach his destination by following the road, he hadn't survived this long by taking the obvious approach.

He passed a castle of concrete, some industrial relic of the old world. It would have made for an excellent vantage point, were it not home to a number of feral ghouls. He stayed away from it, opting instead to make his way further up the craggy hillside until he was nestled in the shadow of the overpass. He steadied the snub-barreled rifle atop a rock: there was no stock to brace against.

Under normal circumstances, a small trade caravan went out of its way to cross the river at the end of every month. They waited under the overpass for an hour in order to rendezvous with the man who lived alone near the edge of the Glowing Sea. Skins and salvage were exchanged for supplies. Unfortunately for the wastelander, someone had gotten there first.

His crosshairs drifted across the destruction below before settling upon a man knelt over the dead brahmin. The raider hoisted something above his head, yelled something that was incomprehensible at this distance, then pitched forward an instant after the shot rang out.
« Last Edit: September 09, 2020, 04:41:57 AM by Spartan-777 » Logged

Danny
Administrator
Exhalted Member
*****

Karma: 15
Posts: 1929

The Gentleman Bastard


View Profile WWW
« Reply #2 on: September 13, 2016, 06:03:26 PM »

The round skimmed over the raider's pack. As the sound of the shot caught up, the trio turned and glared in the direction it came. The woman immediately caught sight of a shifting silhouette some distance up the hill. It had the high ground, but she had the numbers.

"Take him!" She growled.

The three sprinted forward, firing their makeshift weapons wildly. She took cover by a tanker trailer while she signaled for the other two to split up and advance. Both of the male raiders charged from two sides. One armed with a pipe pistol took potshots while the second, armed with a machete, babbled and snarled as he closed the distance.
Logged
Spartan-777
Global Moderator
Member
*****

Karma: 11
Posts: 742

The Violent Cartographer


View Profile WWW
« Reply #3 on: September 30, 2016, 03:33:14 AM »

Metal crunched against metal, a spent casing was flung free, and a new cartridge chambered. The second shot zinged into the pavement. He repeated the process, smacking the bolt home. The third shot caught Machete in the chest. The fourth snapped his head backwards, sending him tumbling back down the hill.

The steady pop pop pop of a pipe pistol continued, interspersed with an all-too familiar zing! that made him scramble for cover as the raider advanced. Waste used this time to reload, dropping the near-empty box into a pouch on his belt and replacing it with a lengthier counterpart. When the incoming fire slackened, he leapt.

He loosed a short volley as quickly as he could cycle the weapon, then charged down to meet his attacker head-on. Every third step was punctuated by thunder. By the time the distance between the two had been halved, the raider crumpled.

As the third peered out from behind the trailer, Waste whipped his rifle around and snapped off a shot. She ducked back into cover just as quickly. The next thing to peek out was a muzzle.
Logged

Danny
Administrator
Exhalted Member
*****

Karma: 15
Posts: 1929

The Gentleman Bastard


View Profile WWW
« Reply #4 on: October 12, 2016, 09:10:59 PM »

The woman poked her automatic pipe rifle out from cover and let loose a spitfire of blind-fire. She didn't let go of the trigger until the mag was empty. She stepped out, confident she'd see the attacker's bullet ridden corpse. But he was no where to be seen. Enraged, she cursed and injected herself with her last psycho (instead of reloading her rifle). Her blood pumping, she stepped out into the open with her rifle at the ready.

"Come out fuckstick! I'll cut you open and wear your guts around my neck!" She was probably supposed to put a 'or else I'll' somewhere in that threat. 
Logged
Spartan-777
Global Moderator
Member
*****

Karma: 11
Posts: 742

The Violent Cartographer


View Profile WWW
« Reply #5 on: December 07, 2016, 05:13:12 AM »

A missile of meat and metal speared the raider from the side and made a grab for the zip gun's rusted barrel. They grappled, swinging wildly in their respective efforts to pummel the other into the pavement. Waste wrestled the weapon away, quickly planted the muzzle against her struggling form, and fired. To no effect.

A haymaker to the side of his head rattled teeth and sent the rifle skittering across asphalt. The world spun and she was on him.

He twisted, doing his best to bring the broad slab of steel on his shoulder between her hands and his skull. Bare knuckles glanced against the armored plate. He heard her swear as she recoiled.

While he fended off blows with his left, his right hand was already moving to the bolt-action hanging from his hip. He awkwardly pulled the long barrel free of its holster, angled it up towards her gut, and pulled the trigger.

Click.

Another blow struck him in the face. He grunted with exertion, drew his legs up, and heaved her off to the side. Gravel bit into his palms as he levered himself upright in time to see her shaking off momentary disorientation to fix her gaze on the discarded pipe rifle. She scrambled towards it.

He grabbed a leg and pulled her back, only to be rewarded with a kick to the ribs. Air exploded from his lungs. He yanked harder, using her to pull himself up enough to let him roll onto his knees and pin her. She spit.

Waste seized the momentary respite, reaching one hand back for the flight helmet clipped to his belt. He fumbled with the clasp until it dropped to the asphalt behind him, scooped it up, and pulled it down over his head. It settled crooked; he could only see out of one eye now. He felt her buck beneath him, freeing an arm and almost knocking him off balance. Despite this, he risked letting go of her other arm to knock his helmet straight before bringing the fiberglass dome down hard against her skull.
« Last Edit: December 10, 2016, 06:41:05 AM by Spartan-777 » Logged

Danny
Administrator
Exhalted Member
*****

Karma: 15
Posts: 1929

The Gentleman Bastard


View Profile WWW
« Reply #6 on: December 20, 2016, 05:24:28 AM »

It wasn't exactly the memory that kept replaying in her head- it was more like a dream. She stood back from the fight, watching the loner mount her like some whore and finish her with the headbutt. Over and over she watched and felt the impact. The throbbing pain translated from her dream to reality as she woke up staring up at the sky. The sun had moved, she realized. Probably had been unconscious for two hours.

'I've had withdrawal headaches worse than this,' the raider thought, sitting upright.

Clasping her head wound, she glanced around. Looked clear and it was quiet. Loner probably thought he'd done the job. Not quite, but more damage was done than he probably realized.

Two dead men and no loot worth dragging back except one fusion core. The raider held the device with her free hand after retrieving it from her deep, self patched pocket. There was probably just enough charge left in it for the boss to crush her head with his power armor. But she knew she wouldn't be that lucky. Really was too bad that Loner didn't finish the job.

The woman stumbled to her feet and looked around once more. One guy... caravan guard they missed? Didn't look like part of the group, more like hired mercenary. Lightly armed and armored, though. The rest of his stuff wasn't packed with the brahmin. Vigilante? Maybe if life was like one of those stupid comic books. What the hell was he? And why couldn't he have just killed her!?

A sudden fit of rage caused the headache to get worse. She threw the fusion core to the ground and she collapsed; holding her head in her hands. She screamed at nothing, venting fear, pain and failure.

How many times would she go back to be tortured. How many more times before she finally just killed herself.

The thought of ending it right then and there crossed her mind as she watched the fusion core, now humming ominously after it's impact with the road, roll down towards the sacked caravan. If that thing went off it would be just a flash of light and there'd be nothing left.

Nothing left...


***


An emotion- a sense, something she hadn't felt in a long time rushed over her. She stood from a distance admiring the scene she had constructed using the bodies of the caravaners and her men. If someone were to come looking for her, they would find this. Standard looking raider attack; obvious signs of a firefight. The overzealous raiders rushed to claim the riches held by the brahmin but, alas, it was rigged to explode. Or maybe one of the guards had a fatman. Either way-

Using one of her raiders pipe pistol, the woman took aim and fired a couple shots at the fusion core perched atop the brahmins corpse. There was a blinding flash and satisfying explosion.

-she was dead.


***


After the explosion, it immediately dawned on her she had no where to go. She didn't know the Commonwealth- only knew of places, not how to get to them. She knew where she was, knew where to hit next, and how to get back to camp. She wasn't going to aimlessly wander the wasteland and obviously wouldn't be going back to camp. So she started towards a known compound further on down from where they hit the caravan. All her group knew about it was that it existed and they wanted it. She hoped mostly males ran the place, increase her chances of being let in if she approached naked.


***


The woman had been laying prone in the shrubs up the hill behind the compound for a few hours. It was getting late into the night now and had decided a change of tactics. The compound was actually one of those Red Rocket service stations converted to a base. A scrap metal and wood defensive wall rounded the structure and a small wooden shed was tacked on. She thought at first this was all for another group, but it seemed just one person was inside. More than likely it was a guard while the rest of the group was out. But it seemed that group wouldn't be returning tonight, as she observed the figure inside turning down torches and putting out a fire. Once they're asleep, she would be one delicate cut away from an entire group's stash.

Another hour passed and the compound was completely still. She slowly started moving for a gate at the rear scrap wall. She peaked through gaps to spot a trap or alarm system. She identified a few devices, but decided to just avoid them. To get in she gently pushed on the gate to create a gap, without opening it, for her to slither through. Once inside, she scaled the wall of the actual Red Rocket to find the entrance. She ended up going around most of the building, coming to the garage entrance. She peaked inside, immediately spotting a figure sleeping in a cot towards the back of the room. She took a slow, deep breath and took out her knife. Quick and quiet.

On her tip-toes and holding her breath, she seemingly glided toward the man sleeping cluelessly in his comfortable cot. As she neared, she caught sight of something that stopped her in her tracks. Sitting beside the cot, atop a wooden crate; a flight helmet. With a dried blood spot of blood inside a newly formed dent. And resting by the cot, an all too familiar rifle.

She krept closer. It was him. The Loner. This was his place. She lifted her blade and prepared to jab it right into the side of his neck. Kill him now, violently, and take everything he has. Start fresh here, or sell everything and start somewhere else! Didn't matter! Her fingers wrapped tighter around the grip of the homemade knife in anticipation of the kill, but... then a phrase began to nag at her.

'Then what?'

Kill him and then what? Take this place and then what? Run out of food and water and then what? Another group shows up and then what? Her group shows up and then what?

She had been running with her group for years, and while she considered herself experienced... she knew nothing. She was sloppy at best, and that was after a couple hits of psycho. But this guy... this guy was more than some raider. He lived for himself and was good at it. Which was what she wanted to be.

She rested the rusted, jagged blade on the sleeping man's throat and tapped the side of his head.   

"Wakey, wakey."
Logged
Spartan-777
Global Moderator
Member
*****

Karma: 11
Posts: 742

The Violent Cartographer


View Profile WWW
« Reply #7 on: January 30, 2017, 05:03:24 AM »

Eyes snapped open, pupils dilated and focused on the figure looming over him in the darkness. Stared.

Neither one of them said anything for several seconds. Or maybe it was several minutes. It felt longer.

He recognized the face of the one he had failed to kill, had left unresponsive in the middle of the road some hours before. He'd taken a chance. Stupid. But she still hadn't moved, save to adjust her grip on the corroded shiv biting his throat.

"Did you want me to know it was you?"
Logged

Danny
Administrator
Exhalted Member
*****

Karma: 15
Posts: 1929

The Gentleman Bastard


View Profile WWW
« Reply #8 on: January 30, 2017, 01:19:21 PM »

The raider pressed the blade closer, enough to begin the tear of skin, drawing a drop of blood. "I wanted you to know it was me," She confirmed.

She hovered nearer, and hissed, "Know that it was me you should have made sure was dead. Know that it was me who snuck in here. And know that it was me..."

Suddenly, she retreated. Releasing the blade from his neck and returning to an upright sitting position, a reversal of how they had been a few hours ago.

"...Who could have killed you."

Sitting atop of him, she glared down. The blade was safely away, but still in her firm grasp incase things suddenly went wrong. While she scrambled for her next few words, she figured he was probably wondering where this was going. Since she really had no idea (would have been much easier if he just provoked her into off-ing him), she just decided to wing it.

"You really fucked me back at that caravan, you know that? But you also did me a favour. Now I'm doing you one. You're really good at this loner thing, but that doesn't matter without eyes out the back of your head." She displayed the knife again, shaking it mockingly, "So I have an offer for you. Shelter me and teach me, and I'll guard you and do whatever else you want."
Logged
Spartan-777
Global Moderator
Member
*****

Karma: 11
Posts: 742

The Violent Cartographer


View Profile WWW
« Reply #9 on: February 03, 2017, 06:37:13 AM »

His killer slowly leaned in. He could feel her breath on his neck as she spoke again, much quieter now: "Favors."

Though his jaw had been set in a face of stoic defiance, his expression momentarily slackened as if distracted.

"Anything I want?"

She nodded coolly.

"I want you to leave."

Her expression was confused. Or offended. Maybe a little of both.

"You're joking," she stated incredulously.

"'This loner thing' doesn't work if someone else is around to mess it up."
"It doesn't work when someone shows up to slit your throat while you sleep, either."
"That's on me. I'm paying for my own mistakes, not--"
"I'm on you." She countered, menacing him with the knife again.
"You've gotta eat."

She sat upright again. Something clattered to the concrete floor beside the bed as she unfastened her improvised shoulder gear to pull her tattered top over her head. His cold eyes darted up and down; not with lecher, but with scrutiny. She was scrawnier than he had realized. Scarred. Battered. He imagined a number of bruises may have come from their last encounter: He had certainly acquired a few.

"Not much."
"That'd explain it." He didn't clarify.

Neither of them said anything for a moment, and Waste shifted under her. His hand strayed, almost imperceptibly, towards the edge of the bed He noted that her knife was nowhere to be seen.

A .38 revolver sat nestled in the gap between the wall and the bedframe. He briefly considered pulling it.

"You cut our supply line." Despite his continued arguments, it slipped out without his realizing. Our.

"I know where we can find more."

He was dead regardless. "You better."
« Last Edit: February 03, 2017, 06:48:17 AM by Spartan-777 » Logged

Danny
Administrator
Exhalted Member
*****

Karma: 15
Posts: 1929

The Gentleman Bastard


View Profile WWW
« Reply #10 on: February 04, 2017, 06:48:43 PM »

The next morning, the raider woke up outside the garage where the loner was comfortably inside. She was given a sack to keep warm during the night, but it didn't help much. It was more than she was used to, however.

She rubbed the back of her aching neck as she watched the sun begin to peak over the scrap fence perimeter. She wasn't the sappy type, but it was hard to shake the sense of a fresh start. She turned around and banged a few times on the garage door, either waking or hurrying up the loner.

To begin earning his trust, she planned on leading him the one of about a dozen supply caches her group had hidden along the outskirts of the Commonwealth. Inside they'd find enough supplies to keep a raiding party going for another day or two, which should be plenty for the pair of them. 
Logged
Spartan-777
Global Moderator
Member
*****

Karma: 11
Posts: 742

The Violent Cartographer


View Profile WWW
« Reply #11 on: February 09, 2017, 07:27:04 PM »

The stranger stepped into the doorway left of the garage, a big bore revolver leveled almost casually. He was dressed head-to-toe in well-worn leather and metal plates, the ensemble topped by the battered yellow flight helmet she'd experienced the day before. The stubby scoped rifle was strapped to his hip. He gestured expectantly.

"Gun."

A moment's pause.
"Are you gonna give me ammo for it?"
"Depends on what we find where we get where we're going." He stared expectantly.
"It's getting there I'm worried about," she argued.
"I'll take care of it."
"I'm keeping it with me."

Another pause. Waste changed tact, pulling a can from his pack to slosh its contents.

"Trade."

That seemed to have an effect, and her expression yielded somewhat.

"Clean?"
"Should be."

She surrendered the improvised handgun. Waste quickly seperated the magazine from the weapon, pocketing the former and wedging the latter into the back of his belt.

There was a pop as the container's contents were exposed to air for the first time in two hundred years, and for the next few moments, the silence was only broken by the occasional gulp as the raider downed the can in a single swig.

She wiped her mouth with a ratty sleeve. She looked relieved. "More?"
"Later." He gestured with the revolver. "Lead on."

With a sigh, she shifted her equipment and started out of the compound. She looked to the overpass in the distance, then gestured for him to follow.
« Last Edit: February 09, 2017, 07:30:43 PM by Spartan-777 » Logged

Danny
Administrator
Exhalted Member
*****

Karma: 15
Posts: 1929

The Gentleman Bastard


View Profile WWW
« Reply #12 on: February 10, 2017, 01:09:27 AM »

It wasn't a long trek to the raider's supply cache. The pair traveled north, then directly west of the old 'robot skeleton' fort. They eventually paused on the slope of a hill which had a pretty decent view of the landscape before them. The raider pointed out a seemingly unremarkable tree, standing dead with the rest.

"We use trees as... uh... signs. Direction things. We gotta remember which ones and where they point or we're dead. When I get closer I'll show you the marking- wait." She stopped, leaned forward and squinted. Movement.

A few extra seconds of observation revealed a scavenger, not one of her raiders as she feared, had lucked out on finding the hidden supplies.

"Shit, looks like some scavver got to it first. Let's gut her." The woman was about to start barreling down the hill when the loner's reply forced her to stop.

"Let's figure out if they're alone, first."

She sighed and impatiently glanced around. She knew what was down there and was itching for it, "Yeah, they're alone. Trust me, if she had friends they'd be down there with her dividing up the stash. Give me the gun back I'll take care of this."

"That's why your friends are dead. Stay put."

The loner shuffled off, making his way down the hill towards the distracted scavenger. The raider watched on in disbelief as the loner got closer. Idiot was going to get his head blown off. Wouldn't be the worst thing, but he had her gun. She couldn't take it any longer.

The loner took cover behind a rock, and called out the scavenger, "That doesn't belong to you."

What might have become a diplomatic solution to the situation was most likely ruined as the raider came barreling down the hill, as originally intended.

"Fuck you, you dirty fucking scavver, get away from my shit!" She would stop in her tracks in the scavenger drew a weapon on her.
Logged
Indi
Administrator
Member
*****

Karma: 12
Posts: 790


View Profile WWW
« Reply #13 on: February 10, 2017, 01:53:13 AM »

Two of them, a man and a woman. Wren took aim at the one she could see. Two bullets. The other four she had wasted in an attempt at hunting yesterday, and there hadn't been any more where she found the gun. Two bullets. Maybe she could kill both. Maybe. If she had to. If she was lucky. If her hands would stop shaking.

"Look, I'm new around here. I don't even know where here is." She tried to sound tough, but her voice cracked. "I'm not going to be here long, and I wouldn't tell anyone about this stuff even if I had someone to tell." Shit! Now they knew she was alone.
Logged

Danny
Administrator
Exhalted Member
*****

Karma: 15
Posts: 1929

The Gentleman Bastard


View Profile WWW
« Reply #14 on: February 16, 2017, 04:26:24 AM »

Stopped in her tracks, the raider observed the threat before her. She was little, her voice cracked and her hands were shaking. The raider relaxed, despite the pipe revolver being aimed at here.

"You're just some kid."

The young scavenger replied, "Yeah, maybe, but I'm a kid with a gun. I'm a pretty good shot too."

Not wanting to put her to the test, the raider began a slow pace around the girl. The scavneger tracked her with the barrell of the gun, eventually turning; exposing her back to the loner who had remained concealed thus far.

In an effort to keep her distracted, the raider continued to prod, "Look at you and your little get-up. It's cute. So's the gun, but I bet you don't even know how to use that thing."

Suddenly, a shot rang out and the raider jumped. The bullet soared right over her head. "Don't you move." Said the scavenger.

The raider slowly raised her hands, hoping the loner would soon act. "Alright, alright, sure proved me wrong," her voice wobbled as the adrenaline pumped, and as she eyed the exposed needles protruding from the cracked open supply crate.
« Last Edit: February 21, 2017, 12:45:40 AM by Danny » Logged
Pages: [1] 2
  Print  
 
Jump to:  

Powered by SMF 1.1.20 | SMF © 2013, Simple Machines
clean_cut_blue was created by babjusi