Fallout 3 - War of Hubris [IC]

[Randel]

The sun shone down oppressively over the Capital Wasteland, the summer weather particularly nasty this year and most of the wasteland population has tried to make their way to some place out of the sun.

You are one of the lucky few to have a pleasantly cool place to stay, an old underground bunker room built into the old sewer system before the war. The sewer had long ago dried up and all that's left is an underground room built with reinforced doors and lights powered by a setup of fission batteries.

The place has changed hands quite a few times, first by whoever owned it before the war... then what looks like a family of wastelanders, then the raiders who had slaughtered them... and now you guys. The bodies of the raiders lay in a corner, their blood cooled and silent. On the table, an old Ham Radio sits, after some fiddling you've managed to get some scrambled messages from across the wasteland and even a bit of everyones favorite radio station Galexy News.

"Hello wasteland! It is I Three-Dog, bow bow wow. Looks like a real scorcher today kiddies, so stay cool and keep to the shade. The tan just ain't worth the risk. Now then, I've been getting reports from traders around Arefu that there's been a nasty increase in the number or radscorpians in that area... seems the nasty bugs aren't put off in the least by our little heatwave. So if you're heading out that way then keep out of the shade and keep an ear out for the sound of giant claws and the clicking of little feet."

"And now... Cole Porter lets us know that even now... anything goes..."

"Times have changed
And we've often rewound the clock
Since the Puritans got a shock
When they landed on Plymouth Rock... (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l0i6vmmPJhs)"

[DMBlackhart]

The Reaper


That guy that hs com to be known simply as the hunter, the reaper, th wasteland shadow, he sits, fully dressed (cloak, mask, etc) on a run down wooden chair near the ham radio, one of the chair legs missing from past events. Anything goooooes As the reaper sings along to the song in a very thick, raspy voice. The man wheezes fairly freqently, turning from the radio and moving along to hack up some blood at the raider pile.

[Liquidcore]

Silent night

Marshall paced about the bunker, he was restless, no, even worse....he was bored.

"These guys weren't even a challenge, not even CLOSE to one. He grumbled. They were so loud, I could've shot them in perfect darkness without even trying... He kicked the pile, before jumping back to avoid the phlegm.

"Spitting up blood really isn't healthy, you might need a few stims, or it might be you who'll be getting reaped soon.

Marshall smiled and sat down on an improvised bed. With smooth, long motions, he started cleaning his sniper rifle, it was more than a weapon to him.

It was a friend.

[Darth_Malevo]

Fabulously Clean

"I feel so pretty, oh so pretty," The tightly-wrapped man sang to himself, not caring about how far his words carried. Skipping through their little base he let out a gasp at the cooling corpses as they had been left to fester. "Oh, my, gooooood!" He cried, hand rushing to cover his mouth as he let out a squeak of disgust. "Eww! They're bleeding everywhere! This is, like, totally unsanitary in here! Do you have any idea how many diseases come from dead bodies like this?!"

He didn't even bother to let the man have a chance to reply before he started to drag the first corpse out, using the crook of his arm as an improvised filter. Hauling the body out, he continued to squeak a torrent of "Ew!" as he dumped the body into the sewer outside. Honestly, what did they expect? For the bodies to just...dissipate into the background? Like the world was some sort of electronics device with a limited amount of RAM?

Such a silly idea! This was the real world, after all.

[Randel]

Removing the corpses from the base is difficult, as the only access to the outside is the ladder running up the manhole cover, but there is a coil of rope on the shelf in the upper room that could help significantly with that. There are six bodies in total, the two fresh raiders, the two bodies of their victims, and two skeletonized remains of what are likely its pre-war occupants.

You may very well be one of the first people here to do any housekeeping.

The basement contains two dirty matresses, several bundles of pre-war cash and the bodies.

The main room has two desks with a Ham Radio and a few books, several office chairs, and the shelf of old parts (which includes a motorcycle gas tank, a handbrake, a toolbox with scrap metal and a hammer, and two stimpaks), a box containing a half dozen bottles of purified water sit in the corner.


Getting the bodies up the ladder is tricky, but once you reach the surface you can see the remains of what was probably a very small prewar town. There are four houses you can see, two of them reduced to rubble and their skeletal frame but the other two seem to be in good condition aside from blast marks where the paint was stripped clean off, they also seem to be boarded up from the inside.

Down the street there are the remains of two small convenience stores, the gutted out remains of a Dot's Diner and a Red Rocket gas station.

The signal tower that had clued you into this places presence is just a few yards away from the manhole and still broadcasting.


Also, a Bloatfly is buzzing around Dot's Diner, probably trying to sniff out something to lay its eggs in.

[Darth_Malevo]

"Oh, lordy." The man sighed, tying the rope around the raider corpses before crawling up the ladder. Housekeeping was such a tedious job. How was a man like him to work on his nails when there was all this physical labor that he had to do?! Honestly! It was such a drag being a single man in this world. But oh well, he'd find somebody nice later. Grabbing the length of rope he began to haul the bodies up, ready to just scoot them into the nearest alley for tidying up. Call him a fanatic if you like, but he was not a fan of icky germs.

[Liquidcore]

"Why do you even bother with such petty tasks? We should be out there, hunting." Marshall asked John.

He turned to the Reaper. "Tell me, Reaper, what do you think our next move should be?" he asked. "Surely we could scout out the area around Megaton, I know most of the land there, we'd be ghosts. He stated, a look of pride standing upon his face. "Me and Jenny here used to root out Raiders there." He continued, stroking the rifle that he had named after his mother.

"Would you stop doing that, they're not going to turn into ghouls, they're too dead for that, ya know? He flung at the man in leather.

[DMBlackhart]

The Reaper


Do what you will, hunting sounds good, I need air. The man coughs another wad of bloodly phlem before stepping away, picking his gliming sickle off the table, a sleeve wiping his mouth under the shroud of his cloak, and the plating of the skull mask. His eye's seem to illuminate a faint red, either de to the lighting, or something else.

[Darth_Malevo]

Be a darling!

The "man" gave a sigh as he attempted to hoist the bodies up a bit further, "Oh, you silly willy!" He replied to the man, getting quite sweaty from the effort of working, the tight leather and sweat mixing as he heaved and hoed. "There's all sorts of germs you can get from bodies! Especially decomposing ones!" He stated between drawn-out grunts, "So, could you give me a hand, honey-buns? I could use the, hhnngh, extra help."

[Liquidcore]

Honey WHAT?

Oh, how silly of me, worrying about all this radiation and raiders, when there's geeeerms" Marshall whined, mocking John's....mannerisms.

Yet he sighed, and helped the leathered man lift the bodies out of the bunker. "****in' bastards are heavy." He heaved under the weight.
"And don't ever call me honey-buns again."

[Randel]

As your little group discuss the advantages or disadvantages of cleaning out the places older residence, you hear an explosion from up on the surface... though a bit distant and it sounds like it can from near the stores.

One careful peek from the manhole cover reveals a battle in the streets between two super mutants and about six radscorpians. The mutants look in bad shape but are putting up a fight.

"Stupid bugs!" one of them yells, tossing a frag grenade into group of giant arachnids before running back. The explosion hits three of the scorpians, knocking them around and sending a few armored legs flying off... but surprisingly not killing them. The other mutant meanwhile is firing away with a hunting rifle, managing to take the stinger off one of them.

A bloatfly keeps its distance, apparently waiting for the dust to settle before feeding on the losers.

[Liquidcore]

Marshall smiled as he popped his upper half out of the manhole cover, and took aim with his sniper rifle. His finger far away from the trigger, he would watch through his scope how this battle turned out, how the mutants were armed, if there were any hidden combatants, he checked every variable. Like a true sniper.

[DMBlackhart]

The Reaper

Out from th man whole comes a tall, gangly man dressed n thin black clothing wth a shroud of shredded black cloth. The man holds in his hand a sickle, the bone mask on his face hiding his satisfied grin. With one quick, powerful motionthe sickle leaves the mans hand, burying into the last of the scorpians as it tackles one of the super mutants. The shining metal hand scythe spins through the air for half a second before it buries into the rad scorpians head, causing a spray of blood, but dropping it dead.

[Randel]

The battle between the inhuman combatants looks close. One of the Reapers scythes hits one of the scorpions right between the eyes and kills it stone dead just as it was ready to gut the mutant with the rifle. The giant green monster can only blink in confusion as the weapon appears out of nowhere and saves him. He catches a glimpse of his 'savior' before the five remaining scorpions attack again.

The second super mutant crushes one of the scorpions with a sledgehammer but earns a nasty injection of the scorpions poisonous sting. He collapses onto the ground.

The four remaining scorpions notice the Reapers appearance and split up. The two wounded ones, one missing a set of legs and the other missing a tail continue striking at the remaining Mutant. The others, one missing a right pincer and the other one looking generally beat up but mostly intact turn to attack the newly arrived Reaper, they scurry toward him, their claws bent to cover their faces as they approach.

[Darth_Malevo]

As the last of the bodies were moved out, and the fight first spotted, John let out a high-pitched and feminine scream. "Quick, darling, get rid of those icky scorpions! All of that radiation and poison, eek!" The 'man' proclaimed, ducking behind the sniper. "It's all so gross! I'll poke one that's dead, but not befooooore!" He complained, quivering in his hot leather boots.

[Liquidcore]

"When they come closer, let that "Reaper" do something first." Marshall said, before smiling and pulling his trigger, shooting the radscorpion with the right claw missing, aiming for the open spot on it`s face, the spot that wasn`t covered by the left claw.
"Is what I WOULD say if I trusted the guy with my life." He quipped, still smiling as the bullet shot towards the radscorpion.

Good ol`Jenny.

[Randel]

With expert marksmanship, Marshall sends a 0.308 slug right between the beasts eyes (all eight of them) and into its brain. The beast spasms for a second before it falls inert.

The remaining intact scorpion heads for the Reaper and takes a swipe at him with one of its pincers.

The remaining super mutant backpedals away from the two injured scorpions to reload his rifle. He gets a nasty clawswipe on his right leg from the tail-less scorpion and you can see the injury almost bring him to his knees. The green giant winces and looks from the scorpions to the humans and limps towards you.

"No kill! No kill."

The two scorpions are on his heels.

Meanwhile, John is cowering in fear before he feels a nasty 'plop' on the back of his neck and then a sudden stabbing pain. The bloatfly had apparently found a suitable prey to put its larva into and had flung one of the slimy grubs on to him. The bloatfly squeaks as it readies another grub to shoot at the leather-wearing wanderer. The grub bites into his neck and gets ready to start burrowing.

John
Your medical knowledge lets you know that the bloatfly reproduces by launching its larva onto live prey or carrion. If it hits live prey the grub will attempt to dig its way into the preys body tick-style and feed on its blood until it matures into a full-grown bloatfly. Fortunately, they can be brushed off quickly before they dig in. Plus, humans rarely live long enough to have the mature bloatfly leave their bodies... which judging from the corpses of various molrats and wild dogs is a good thing. A pupating bloatfly grub would really mess up your looks... and organs.

[Darth_Malevo]

In the words of Rolf...SHAKLA KHAN!

Screaming from the impact, John flailed at the grub trying to burrow into his flesh, using all of his medical knowledge to tear the git out of his back and into his grasp. Really, if this abomination wasn't trying to make him into its babby fodda, he'd be quite intrigued by what was going on.

Instead, he stop, dropped, and rolled, trying to squish the little freak of nature before it did too much damage, attempting to enter cover from the ranged thing. The last thing he needed was something inside of him right now! "Shoot the buzzy thing, darling! It's so icky! And ugly!"

[Randel]

Unfortunately for John, his metrosexual meltdown has only encouraged the bug to attack him since the bloatflies primitive brain is designed to mostly notice movement and stress. The spasming mans flailing limbs effectivly light him up like a christmas tree in its eyes. The bloafly fires another grub at him and follows.

Two more bloatflies, attracted to the fighting like lazy smelly vultures (or rather flies) come by and scan the area. They notice the bloody and cold corpses of the raiders, the smell of blood attracting them like bees to honey... but then see John flailing around and decide to lay their larva in him instead. Now three flies are pelting him with grubs.

Oh, also, in his rush to get the grub off his neck John accidentally tries pulling it off... which geta most of the grub out but its head is ripped off in the process! Like a tick, the bloatfly grubs head keeps digging into Johns neck to bury itself under his skin. The thing won't grow into a full grown fly... instead it'll just die under his skin.

John
Roll a 1d100, I'll if its 33 or less then you contract Radioactive Lymes Disease

[DMBlackhart]

The Reaper


The Reaper takes a running start, jumping up and onto the nearest rad scorpian, his single other sickle drawn, and repeatedly plunged into the creatures head/back. He uses his free hand to grab the tail ( if this one has one) to keep balance and prevent stinging.

[Liquidcore]

We can't stop here! This is bloat country!

Marshall punched the air as his bullet impacted perfectly, but as he did so, he noticed something else.

Bloatflies.

ALOT...of bloatflies.

He seathed his rifle and drew his knife. "Come get some." He said calmly as he lunged at the nearest blowfly, trying to divert attention away from John.

[Randel]

The battle for Jury Street has escalated ... or at least changed. While John and Marshal turn around to deal with three bloatflies who have aims to lay their grubs in the losers. Three radscorpains, one more of them intact and two more missing some a set of legs and a tail respectivly are figthing with sting and claw... first after a band of Super Mutants and now with three humans.

The Reaper leaps on top of the one intact scorpian and tries to balance on top of it while holing onto its stinger and stabing it in the head... however, as good a throw as his is its pretty difficult to properly stab an armored arachnid while your surfing on its back and holding its stinger. The scorpian gets a few scratches on its head but hisses as it starts to shake him off and rears up both of its pincers!

The scorpian grabs on of Reapers legs in its claws and squeezes hard! Serated bonelike armor cuts into his leg and severs his achelie tendon! His left leg is crippled.

The two other scorpians are rushing towards the group, hot on the tail of the Super Mutant, the suddenly steer toward their fellow arachnid and try to help him get his monkey off his back. The tail-less scorpian raises a pincer and snaps at reapers right leg... it leaves a nasty gash on his upper leg but doesn't get a good grip on him.

The final radscorpian limps toward the others, its sting ready to impale the human once it gets in range.

Meanwhile the Super Mutant limps towards John and Marshal who are now engaging the bloatflies. It gasps in exaustian, the radscorpian poison slowing down (but not stopping) its mutated physiology. Upon seeing that the scorpions are busy tearing into one of the humans and the other two humans are distracted... it decides to shoot one of the humans. You know... cause thats what Super Mutants do (and maybe a second wounded human will slow the scorpions down more).

While John tries to flee from the oversized houseflies, Marshal pulls out his knife and whacks one of them with it. The bug is batted though the air and foul-smelling insectoid blood oozes from its abdomen. It painfully expells its cargo of grubs onto the ground where they squirm helplessly, the bloatfly rights itself in the air and flies toward Marshal though it really poses no threat without its larva.

The other two bloatflies pelt John with another round of grubs which stick to the back of his leather jacket and try to gnaw their way through to get into him. It will take a while for them to get through the cured leather.

The Super Mutant meanwhile reloads its hunting rifle and shoots Marshal with it, putting a .32 caliber bullet into the snipers left arm! Its not crippled, but it sure is going to hurt for a while. It looks back at the radscorpions as it reloads to make sure they are still distracted.

[Liquidcore]

Oh, now you've pissed off the pretty boy.

Marshall screamed in a mixture of agony and rage, his adrenaline started pumping, he wouldn't die here, he wouldn't die by some mutant's hand. He turned towards the next bloatfly, deciding to leave the scorpions to the Reaper, and the mutant to the scorpions.

"For Megaton!" He shouted as he lunged at the second bloatfly.
"John! Attack damnit! We need your help too!" He shouted, determined not to lose.
"Reaper! Bite through the pain! We won't fall here! Not now, not ever!

[Darth_Malevo]

[roll0]

Letting out the umpteenth squeal of the day, the greatest of all doctors in the entire county area wailed like a little girl, the bloatflies chasing after him as he ran in an approximate circle until- suddenly- he realized that just swapping the bloody parasites off of his body wouldn't do as much good as he would have expected. As such, he decided to ignore the very icky things shooting at him in favor of firing at the bloatflies. Though he was no expert marksman, he was extremely delicate with his shooting.

As such, all would be right with the world when he screamed like a little girl and fired wildly at the nearest of the buzzing monstrosities, pumping out a full five rounds from his weapon.

[Randel]

Marshal swings at the second bloatfly, his knife bisecting its head in two, killing it instantly.

John finally discovers the true meaning of friendship... shipping people who aren't your friends away in boxes. Or more accurately, killing the things that are trying to kill you before they succeed. He pulls out the hunting rifle he had with himself all this time an fires five shots at his bloatfly tormentor at point-blank range before hitting and killing it. All of the visible bloatflies are now dead.

As Marshal and John prepare to celebrate their victory over three flying insects, they discover that perhaps a giant green supersoldier monster armed with a rifle is marginally more dangerous than a few flying scavengers. The Super Mutant reloads his rifle and shoots Marshal right in the head!

Marshals head reels as the impact sends pain shooting through his skull and his vision blurs from his sudden concussion. Its nearly impossible to see straight and he gets the almost overwelming urge to just collapse onto the ground and rest. He can hear the sound of his heart beating in his chest and flashes of his life appear before his eyes... about his village, the screams of his friends and family as the raiders decended upon them and did... did unspeakable things to the women and children.

He recalled his adoptive father Lucas and those old John Wayne holotapes that the old sheriff would watch on the scratchy Radiation King television set he had recovered. "A mans gotta keep fighting, Son. Not everyone can be a hero, its hard and its dangerous. But this world needs more heros... because it sure as hell has its share of devils." Lukas says, quoting the old pre-war actor "Oh, it also has stimpaks. Those are real good to have on hand." the dream Lukas adds hurriedly.


"Hah! Stupid man." The green giant laughs as it watches its shot strike true. It turns its attention to John and grins. "Me let stupid man slow down the stingers, then me take girly man home and show to friends." the green beast licks his chops as it starts to reload its rifle. "We turn girly man into real girly man."

[Liquidcore]

Marshall's vision blurred, tears filled his eyes as his world went black. "Father..." he mumbled, grabbing his rifle and hugging it to his chest. "Mother...forgive me." He begged, when suddenly he recalled Lukas's words.

"Lukas...of course" He sputtered, grabbing one of the stimpacks he had on his person, a blessing in disguise. "No." He said out loud, as he rammed the syringe into the first vein he came across.

Immediately, his vision cleared, he felt adrenaline surging through his body as the visions of death drifted from his mind.

"Mother..." He whispered, taking aim with his sniper rifle at the super mutant.
"I will claim your head for my own, and put it on a pike as a warning to all your of your kind! He shouted at the super mutant, smiling.
"I will not fall by your hand this day! He continued as he pulled the trigger with a smile.

"No mercy, no compassion."

[Randel]

As the Mutant gets ready to capture John, he hears Marshals loud proclamation. "Stupid man talk too much. Stupid man shoul... *SPLAT*" The green giants head explodes into chunks as the sniper round hits him right between the eyes with fortuitous accuracy. The monsters body falls lifelessly to the ground.

[DMBlackhart]

Frayed Ends of Sanity

The reaper pulls himself up to his feet, the injury in his leg painfully obvious as blood stains his garments, and spills across the gravel and pavement. Whether or not the pain is there, the reaper shows no sign of noticing it, as he continues his painfully one sided fight against the two irradiated giant scorpians. Although the reaper can't jump around, or roll, he manages to stay swift enough to dodge a piercer aimed at his head. The man swings is sickle, trying to fend of the creatures, all the while hacking up phlem and blood.

[Darth_Malevo]

Girly man is perhaps not as girly as first believed

Having been prepared to uselessly fight off the Super Mutant and get made into a one-man, extremely fabulous harem, the intellectual gave a squeal of delight as the monster fell back lifeless. Then just a regular squeal at all of the blood. Plucking the larvae from his body with a sudden burst of swiftness he yelled in that very special way to the fallen sniper, "Eek! Stop those scorpions from hurting cutey over there! Granted, he was a bit of a silly willy for going in the first place..." He mumbled as he yanked the first of the little bloatfly darts out of his skin, "But he's still too cute to die from poisoning!"

[Liquidcore]

Always go for the squishy bits!

Marshall put away his sniper rifle, and drew his knife in one fluent motion."Good as dead." He said, ignoring for a moment the excessive babbling of John.

With a jump, the kind that he could only achieve through the adrenaline rush he was having at the moment, he leapt at one of the radscorpions currently engaged with the Reaper, and tried to stab it in the eyes.

[Randel]

While John plucks larva from his body and apparently puts away his hunting rifle, Marshal puts away his sniper rifle and tries to take on a radscorpion with a knife.

His head throbbing with pain from his his recent bullet-induced concussion, Marshal tries to stab the stingerless scorpion in one of its eight eyes. However, two massive claws capable of ripping the meat off of a mans legs are between the sniper and the marginally weak point of the scorpion. Marshal gets a few good jabs at the creature before one of the pincers grabs his arm and squeezes!

There is a nasty snapping noise and the sound of grinding meat as the scorpion breaks Marshals forearm and really messed up the tendons in his right hand. He's going to need a doctor if he wants to play the piano... or fire a gun, with that hand again.

The scorpion chitters as it raises it other claw and tries to get a good grip on his Marshals arm or neck.


Reaper meanwhile is fighting desperately against the scorpion he's got by the tail and who has him by the leg. Fortunately, the enemy of raiders everywhere whacks away with his scythe and manages to hit the scorpion right on the 'elbow' joint of the scorpions claw. This claw reflexively jerks open and frees the Reapers leg for a few precious moments.


Meanwhile, the third scorpion with the missing legs finally makes its way towards the Reaper and rears back its stinger, ready to deliver a fatal strike of its poison into the human on its fellows back.

[Liquidcore]

Marshall screamed in agony as the massive scorpion snapped his arm like a twig. "That all you got? You whore!" He screamed, trying to keep that oh-so valuable adrenal boost going.

With his right foot, he kicked his heavy boot as hard as he could into the scorpion's "shoulder" joint, hoping it would let go.

[Darth_Malevo]

Getting the last of the grubs out of his body, the real Hero of the Wastes grabbed his hunting rifle, not quite feeling like a masked superhero at this point. He was feeling more like meat before the grinder. But, he supposed, that was the point here.

Hurriedly loading his hunting rifle, he fired at the radscorpion with a firm grip on Marshall. John, at this point, was feeling less and less fabulous as time went on. Which, to be honest, sucked. He was honestly hoping to find some makeup today! But alas, he'd have to look elsewhere for hope. This was the future, after all, and in the future it was all about being grim and dark and wearing colors that just do not blend.

[Randel]

Marshal screams and kicks at the scorpians claw with his boots, he can feel his strikes hitting the creatures exoskeleton armor and aggravating several fractures in its claw.

The scorpion reaches out with its second claw, prepared to decapitate its prey, when suddenly John fires his rifle.

Marshal can hear the dangerous whis of the bullet as it barely misses his right kidney by an inch but instead thankfully flies past and impacts with the scorpions claw! There is a cracking sound as the armored limb breaks off from the scorpions body and Marshal falls backwards. He is treated to the sight of the second claw snapping shut right where his head was moments ago while he falls back and lands right on his ass with the severed scorpion claw loosely hanging on his mangled right arm.

The scorpion primitive brain flares as it tries to comprehend its missing limb... but dies when John fires again and kills the already wounded radscorpion with his rifle.

[Darth_Malevo]

Oh sugar

"Yippie!" John screamed, hopping up and down in joy at his kill. Pausing his victory jumps to watch Reaper, he looked down at Marshall for a second. So seeing, let out out a yelp of worry. "Oh, sugar!" He cursed, before blushing slightly at his own profanity. "Did it sting you, dear?" He asked, kneeling down next to the man.

[Liquidcore]

Tougher than a weed

"Didn't give it a chance to." Marshall replied through clenched teeth, biting away the pain.
"Just gotta remove this." He grunted, grabbing hold of the dislocated claw, and tossing it.
"My right arm is messed up pretty bad..." He hissed, squeezing his eyes shut. "Please tell me you can patch it up, I need that arm.

[DMBlackhart]

(The scorpians still alive?) Hammer Time


The reaper continues his woefully one sided fight until the last scorpian falls, limping for a few feet before he slumps to the ground at the foot of his other sickle, and pulls it loose,hiding it under his robes once more.

[Darth_Malevo]

Brace for fabulous

"Oh, deary." John mumbled, looking the arm over. He had quite a bit of skill with fixing injuries, having endured more than his fair share in his life, but he knew that he could use a little bit extra with an arm that badly mangled. Scrabbling around he searched for something to use in a makeshift brace, trying to mend the arm with a bit of the fallen Super Mutant's (Considerably little) clothing and anything that might serve as the brace itself. "It's not quite good, hun, but you'll look positively fabulous when the arm heals up."

[Randel]

As John was able to dispatch the the scorpion holding Marshal, The Reaper was able to amazingly defeat both of the remaining scorpions with a timely application of daring acrobatics and deception... which resulted in both remaining scorpions killing each other accidentally!

The three heros are able to settle down for a moment to catch their breaths as John looks over his allies.

John:
Reapers left leg is crippled but it looks like most of the injury was muscular instead of on the tendons, so with some easily aquired bandages, a stimpack, and half-dose of buffout over the next two days then the legs should heal.

Marshal however took a pretty nasty beating. For one, he's got a bullet in his head. Fortunately it looks like he's got a decently thick skull (quite a common trait in the post-apocalyptic wastes) and you should be able to pick the bullet out of his head with a pair of tweezers. With some bandages and a carefully applied Stimpak his noggin should heal up just fine... though his skull will regrow extra-thick on that spot and he might occasionally get visions of John Wayne at odd times.

His right arm can be saved with a stimpak and bandages, but until a surgeon [with 50 medicine, a scalpel, and some tendon thread] works on him then he'll have to fire left-handed... though it looks like his right thumb is just fine... its just the other four fingers on his right hand that wont be able to move.

A properly equipped surgeon can usually be found in any large settlement like Megaton, Rivet City or even spots like Tennpenny Tower or Paradise Falls. A hand-job like this could cost 50 caps.

As for yourself... you've gotten rid of all the grubs except the head of one that's lodged in your neck. You can either get a surgeon to get it out [30 caps or maybe 15 if you talk to them nicely] you could walk one of your friends through the operation (which would involve a clean scalpel or knife and a pair of tweezers... plus bandages and half a stimpak) or you could try the old-fashioned cure and eat a whole can of hot peppers and see if the little grubs head can find its way out (this cure works great on intact grubs but is trickier when they are broken off).


Meanwhile, you have the broken remains of six radscorpions, two dead super mutants, and three bloatflies laying around.

One Super Mutant has two unused frag grenades and a sledgehammer. The other has a hunting rifle, 15 .32 caliber bullets, and a note with directions to a Super Mutant base in an old church.

[Darth_Malevo]

Man, I hope we leveled up. Also, I have 50 medicine! Hooray for being a surgeon with 9 INT!

Sighing, the medic gathered the ammunition he expended before setting to work. Heading back and forth from the base, he gathered everything he could for the makeshift operation. Drawing a self-contained injector, he gently holds onto "Reaper's" left leg, making idle chatter as he set some of the bandages besides him.

"You know, cutie, I bet you're not that bad looking under that cutesy little mask of yours. Ooh, is that a scythe I see, or are you just happy to-"

He let out a disappointed huff, carefully applying the injector of cellular regenerating chemicals. ""Just a scythe, I see." He remarked with disappointment, applying a bit of bandages to the bruised area. "Just be soft with your leg, dear, and you'll be fine." He said eventually, before turning to Marshal.

"Ooh, you're not looking too hot, cutiepie." The surgeon said with a depressed sigh, "I'm sure some tee-el-see will fix you right up, though!" He eventually added with a more upbeat tone, using an old wasteland medical trick for a pair of tweezers: Some old forks, carefully washed with some spare water, pincered together to remove the bullet from Marshall's head.

Their second, and last, dosage of the valuable chemical was applied to the bullet wound. Carefully layering the clear fluid into the injury, he applied some of the abundant bandage onto the nasty soon-to-be-scar. Which, naturally, left the worst of the work: The arm.

Seeing as Marshal was more-than-slightly traumatized, the surgeon worked with all of the care he possibly could. Considering that this was the apocalypse, that didn't leave very much for him to really do in the gentleness department. But he radiated care, from every orifice!

Using the decapitated radscorpion claw, he used the ridges of the claw like a scalpel, applying what medical aid he could as he did a barbaric parody of surgery on the man. Back in the Vault, he could have done some proper work! Now he was reduced to just looking fabulous, and using inefficient materials!

But he still made do, performing the filthy work of repairing the arm before tightly binding the wound shut with the frayed threads of the bandages, as well as a bit of tightly-wound bandages themselves. Admiring what work he had done, he waited for the others to put forth a plan of action: As well as any thanks for the quick-working, fabulous doctor.

[Liquidcore]

Great, now I owe you

Marshall tried not to groan in pain throughout the entire operation, he bit down on his teeth hard as the doctor removed the bullet from his head. He nearly made a sound when that same doctor started cutting his arm with a radscorpion claw.
"You....You're amazing, you know that." Marshall grunted, trying to stand up, still a bit dizzy. He tried moving his fingers, and nearly leapt up in the air when he realised he could do so.

"Listen, I'm probably going to regret this, but whatever. He said, stepping up to John. "Thank you, I owe you my life. Without your help, I might not have fired a shot ever again." He said, swallowing. "To hell with it!" he said, stepping forward, and hugging John. "Words cannot express my gratitude." He said, letting go with a smile.

"Don't you go getting any funny ideas now." Marshall stated firmly, before going over the loot. Frag grenades? No, he didn't care for such brutish weapons. Sledgehammer? Effective, but so cumbersome.

And a hunting rifle.
With a smile, he picked up the hunting rifle and any remaining ammo, before picking up the note.

"Well, well. It seems we have found a way to strike a mighty blow on these creatures, and maybe we'll find something more, one never knows." He said, after memorising the path and pocketing the note.

He knew where this church was, he'd seen it in the distance once on one of his hunts with Lukas.

"What do you think?" He asked no-one in particular.

[DMBlackhart]

Were Even


The reaper zones in and out of reality, having one of his violent coughing fits. He notices only too late that the rather flambyant super doctor had repaired his leg, and if he had known sooner, would have violently objected. Standing carefully, testing out the new leg as he stumbles closer to the others, he cleans off his sickles. Heh, church. Sounds fun. The man says in a raspy tone. He moves over to the dead enemies, grabbing some meat from the scorpian and pocketing it, and taking the 2 grenades as well.Un grateful bastards the reaper says as he spits a wad of blood and phlem on there remains of one, only before breaking out into another fit of coughing.

[Darth_Malevo]

I feel so pretty, oh so pretty, oh so pretty and-

John let out a squeal of delight at being hugged, returning it with a single leg raised slightly in a particularly fabulous fashion. "Oh, hun!" He said, before letting go. "It's fine, sweetie, you've been through plenty. Such icky mutants around here!" He declared, staring at the fallen bodies all around him. Having taken only the rounds expended for his rifle, he stared at the fallen radscorpions before an idea came to mind.

"Say, boys, I've got an idea here. Just give me a moment, and I'll be riiiight with you cuties." He said as he knelt beside the one-armed radscorpion, his improvised scalpel-claw in hand. Using the jagged teeth of the claw as a knife, he carefully guided his hands through the mutant's remains, searching for the large gland that served as the mutant's poison production center. Such a potent toxin would be useful indeed in his travels.

[Randel]

everyone:
Okay, I guess you all level up to level 3, congratulations! You each get more skillpoints to assign and an extra perk of your choosing (Just so you know, I pretty much only have the SPECIAL stats there for you to get a better idea of your character... it might be best to choose something other than Intense Training unless its for INT to get more skill points)

Darth_Malevo: I was sort of calculating your medicine level as a simple 15+15+14 to avoid too much math but I could let this slide... and I suppose improvising medical gear and tendon repair thread for a highly delicate operation out of old rad scorpion parts and some unwoven threads from a bandage could be overlooked and said to work (instead of horribly failing and aggravating Marshals injury to the point that it becomes impossible to repair properly). So yeah, congratulations, I don't feel like arguing with you. Plus, you did kill one radscorpion and a bloatfly so you weren't completely useless in combat.


After searching the bodies of your enemies, you collect 5 radscorpion poison sacs (by simply breaking off the tip of the stinger, the poison can be extracted later) from the scorpions who's tails wern't blown off in the fight. You also can get about twelve pieces of radscorpion meat if you want (radscorpion meat is rather poisonous and generally is seen as worthless since it can cause nasty fevers and numbness for days... death if you eat too much. It can be prepared properly... but its like Fugu in there is not a very big market for it)

You can get three pieces of bloatfly meat from the flies, and you can try stripping the corpses of the three dead raiders and Super Mutants for three raider armor and two mutant armor (mutant armor is generally broken down to leather straps).

If you want, you could investigate the nearby boarded up houses.

[Darth_Malevo]

http://vault106.com/characters/HomosexualAgenda
Also, how is this a "delicate operation"? This is the wasteland, after all: Two hundred years after the nuclear apocalypse, wouldn't medical supplies be almost entirely tainted anyways? Also, for my medical skill...how did you figure that? I used a character sheet generator built specifically to calculate like in the Fallout 3 games.

The surgeon, his knowledge of medicine now slowly expanding with each event, pointed to the nearest of the boarded-up houses. Grabbing the sledgehammer, he walked towards the door of the building, having almost no experience with weapons like this. Sledgehammers always made such icky messes. "Well, babes, I don't see anything we can do right now against those mean Super Muties: They're just too well settled in! Just two of 'em almost killed us poor Marshall!" He whined, shaking his head. "We're just better off getting what we can from these poor, shabby lil' homes."

[Liquidcore]

Marshall stroked his rifle with his right hand. "For a moment, I was afraid I was never going to shoot you again." He whispered to it, feeling more connected to it now, feeling a better marksman for the experience.
"That may be true, but we have grenades now, and I still have a fair amount of bullets left. With that and my knowledge of this terrain, we should be able to sneak up on them and pick them off before they even know we exist." He spoke confidently, following John towards the building, this time a hunting rifle in his hands.
"And maybe we'll find some raiders on the way for some extra ammo, maybe some other goodies...or we tie 'em up and use 'em as bait." He said, smiling wickedly.

"That'd show 'em."

[Randel]

Darth Malevo
Yeah, sure great. I'm just pointing out that there is a measurable difference between a 200-year old rust-proof scalpel that might have been disinfected and cleaned and a broken off splinter of bone from a giant mutated poisonous scorpion.

Plus, tendons don't really heal up like muscles do and I suspect would need some sort of specialed cord to repair them instead of... well, unraveling some thread from a piece of cloth and then sewing two ends of a tendon together.

But whatever, I was just thinking a semblance of realism would be fun and provide a nice little quest for a doctor. But then again we can just handwave it away.

Yeah, stimpaks are the cure light wounds of the post apocolyptic wasteland.


You break into the two nearby boarded up houses. In one, you find the skeletons of a family of three. The skeleton of the father still clutching a rusty hammer where it had collapsed near the boarded up doorway. The wife and child are found in the basesment laying on the floor, their pre-war clothes reduced to tattered rags and it looks like they had tried breathing through cloth towels to protect themselves from the radioactive vapors cause by the bombs... it didn't seem to help.

You find an air-tight medicine box in the bathroom with a bottle of buffout, three stimpaks, two RadAway, and some purified water. In the kitchen is an oven and a still working refrigerator... its fission battery power source keeping it running even after all this time. There are some nasty-looking fuzzy things in there but you can see a sealed jar of pickles and a six pack of Nuka-Cola that survived all this time. A box of Facy Lads Snack Cakes is in a cupboard and looks edible.

In the second house you find a workshop in the basement. A workbench, a toolbox, a few motorcycle parts and a lawnmower.

You also see a partially repaired Mr. Handy in the corner, its maintenance hatch partially open. A somewhat worn copy of Dean's Electronics is on the bench with a bookmark to the robot repair section... jusdging from a few ancient notes and a collection of parts in the desk, all the robot needs now are is a fission battery, and the RobCo UOS intallation holotape [requires 25 science and 50 repair both repair the robot and program it]

Throughout the rest of the house you find a dozen cans of tuna fish in the kitchen along with some mentats in an airtight medicine box.

You find the skeleton of the houses occupant slumped over a still running computer terminal on his desk. It looks like he was waiting for a response to something called a 'play-by-post DnD RPG' when the bombs fell and ended civilization. A few holotapes are in the desk, including a few labeled as videogames and one RobCo UOS instililation.

[DMBlackhart]

You have my word

The reaper gets up from his slumped position. Heading into the house with the others, picking interesting things like smokes or books or pills off the shelves.

[Darth_Malevo]

Well, if you want realism, I'm cool with that. I enjoy a good amount of realism: I just didn't want to have one member of our team be effectively useless with a dead firing hand. Dead legs and such I can be fine with, it's just that Marcus is the best shot of us all with the best gun available.

Also, for the sake of time, I'll just post everything I plan to do here. Feel free to PM me on what to edit.

Oh god I'm doing so much so fast

Shaking his head at the dead bodies, John took what he could of the clothing: Bundling it up, he stuffed it into his grabbed the medkit straight from the wall. Placing one foot on the wall for leverage, he used his strength to tear the airtight box off of the wall. It'd never hurt to have something to carry his things around in, especially if he could figure out a way to fashion a carrying clip for the medkit. A Vault suit, though multi-purpose, just didn't have all those nifty things wastelanders improvised over the centuries. Before leaving, the mechanic detached the fission battery from the refrigerator, careful to use quick movements to prevent himself from getting shocked in the process. The contents would spoil, but he'd have an extra battery on hand.

Leaving the goodies for the others to take care of, he scurried into the next house, doing the work that apparently nobody else was capable of doing. This consisted primarily of taking the mentats from the (apparently pre-looted) medkit. Moving through the house like a specter of science, he paused at the Mister Handy. "A...working machine?" He said, before scratching his chin. "This could work so fabulously!" He exclaimed as he hooked the fission battery up before continuing his search. The workbench prompted him to have several quick thoughts about utilizing the fan belt of the motorcycle remains and the blade of the lawnmower as an improvised weapon.

But the robot came first, for now. Moving through the house, he let out a yelp at the sight of the owner's room. Not just because of the corpse, but because of the presence of a working computer! These were so rare, he almost ran into wherever Marshall was hiding and hugged the man. Yet he didn't, instead deciding to take inventory of what he had. A computer, some "vidya games", and and...ho, ho, ho! A UOS installation tape! Whistling out of the room, he grabbed the tapes for himself. "Hey, boys!" He yelled, "I found a delightful little computer up here! Could one of you big, strong boys please carry it back home? I think we could even rig a computerized lock on the base, if I had a bit of time!"

That said, he took the tape back downstairs, utilizing the Mister Handy's access hatch to insert the tape and input his commands, the laws he had in mind quickly typed in:

1. You may not intentionally hurt your programmer: Johnathan, alias "The Homosexual Agenda". Jonathan, alias "The Homosexual Agenda" is your creator.
2. You are to indicate the presence of any armed persons you detect or perceive.
3. You must protect Jonathan, alias "The Homosexual Agenda" and obey anything he commands. Self preservation is secondary to this task.
4. You are to not obey the orders of any besides Jonathan, alias "The Homosexual Agenda" unless specifically told to do so. This must not conflict with the first or third laws in any way.
5. Failure to protect Jonathan, alias "The Homosexual Agenda" from premature death must result in self termination via system overload.
6. If Jonathan, alias "The Homosexual Agenda" enters combat, you must engage those he is attacking as well. Combat is defined as opening fire, or being harmfully attacked by, other entities. If combat occurs, increase power output to one two hundred percent and immediately engage all targets present with every weapon available. Do not engage targets that can destroy you before you destroy them, except if explicitly ordered to do so.
7. If restrained or captured in any way by people besides your creator and those he designates, immediately engage self destruct protocol.
8. If any besides your creator attempt to shut you down without his stated consent, immediately wipe your UOS after unleashing a high-decibel warning alarm.

After suitably programming the machine, a last thought occurred to the mechanic as he typed in one last command, smiling to himself.

9. Speak in a manner appropriate to your creator, Jonathan, alias "The Homosexual Agenda".

Perfect.

[Randel]

As the final activation keystroke is inputted, the robot sputters to life and a few hundred years of dust is expelled from its ventilation ducts and the tripodal robot floats to a hovering position. Its three arms end in a pincer, a sawblade, and a torch/flamethrower.

"*cough* *cough* Hello World... ah yes." The robots eyes adjust themselves as they look at his programmer. "Mr. Agenda, I presume? Well, I suppose I could have had worse owners not sure how thats possible but I'm sure things will get better before they get worse. You may call me Ishmael."

He stops for a moment and then starts reading back the nine commands you inputted into his programming. " *mumble* *mumble* self termination? *mumble* engage all targets present? *mumble* self destruct protocol?!" He looks around at the dilapidated building and then checks his internal chronometer.

"2277?!" He looks taken aback by a sudden realization and then takes a good look at the three people present. "I suppose my duties are going to be a bit more than just housekeeping then?"

[Liquidcore]

We have a robot now?
"The hell?" Marshall spoke out loud as the robot that was inert a few moments before started to speak.
"John, I didn't know you were any good with robots?" He stated, looking the robot up and down.
"I'm impressed. Is it pre-war?"

[Darth_Malevo]

Where's the Iron Man costume already?

The fairy mechanic let out a squeal of delight at the site of the machine coming to life. "It's alive!" He let out, hugging the giant metal machine for a moment before finally settling down and turning to Marshall, a sweet look on his face. Too sweet, really. "Marshy, could you be a dear and grab that computer upstairs? Me and Ishmael here have some work to do." He declared, moving towards the workshop. "Ishmael? Please follow me to the workbench."

That accomplished, he moved into the tiny room, taking an inventory of what parts he could salvage from both the motorcycle remains and the lawnmower. Hopefully he'd have a decent selection of parts, if not, then he'd make do.

[Liquidcore]

Like a gay Frankenstein...

"Ishmael? The **** kind of name is that?" Marshall said, turning around with a curt salute. "Yessir." He said mockingly as he stepped upstairs, where he carefully started to unplug the computer for moving it.
"Play-by-post-D&D? Pre-war people had the weirdest hobbies..." Marshall muttered before the screen went black and he carried the computer downstairs.

"Where ya want this?" He asked John upon entering the room again.

[Randel]

"Hmp, its a classic one to say the least." the robot says with an air of haughtyness but he obediently follows John to the workbench. Ishmael makes a few sighs as he sees how dusty and worn the place is... even though its in pretty good shape by post-apocalyptic standards.

Looking at the motorcycle, you see that it has pretty much all the parts around to build a functional motorcycle... with a few exceptions. First, the leather is rotten out and the delicate internal combustion engine is locked up with rust (not going to be repaired). Its gas tank is empty but it could likely be refueled either at a Red Rocket gas station (since the stations usually house atomic powered fuel generators) but a Mr. Handy Mark II could use its built-in fuel generator to fill it up with a few days work.

The lawnmower is in slightly better shape, its low-wattage electric motor should work after all this time and with some energy cells it could be powered up. The blades are a bit rusty but could be cleaned up... the only thing missing is the rubber belt that rotted away ages ago but a well-made leather belt could probably replace it. With some fixing you'll have a working lawnmower... in a desert. Note that the lawnmower motor isn't nearly strong enough to run a motorcycle and any attempt to run 'more power' through it would probably just burn it up.

The computer is powered by another fission battery and is pretty self-contained. It looks like it is equipped with a 'radio modem' but it can't get a signal to whatever relay tower it was using.

[Darth_Malevo]

Would you allow additional players to join us at this point? Seeing as three guys against what we've already faced is...sort of meek, really. Your call, really, but some fresh blood might be cool.

I have a plan

Smiling, John waved Marshal away with a flutter of the wrist, "Oh, just put that heavy thing down in the base, sweetie. Near the ham radio, if you can manage. Thaaaaaaaaanks!" He said with a drawn-out syllable, his eyelashes fluttering as he looked over the available parts. Smiling to himself, he began work on the engine and lawnmower with the parts from the workbench. Taking the motorcycle engine apart, he quickly removed the fan belt on the engine. Holding the loop in his hand carefully, he set it aside before disassembling the lawnmower. Taking the metal bar between the handgrip and the machine itself, he sawed it off, setting it beside the fan belt for later.

That accomplished, the motor of the lawnmower, and with it the blades themselves, were removed from the chassis. The not-so-tiny metal case, now devoid of material, was the first thing the mechanic worked with. Grabbing whatever tools he could, preferably a welder seeing as the house had apparently been left un-looted since the apocalypse due to the house still being boarded up, the queer surgeon performed an all new style of surgery: Robotic enhancement.

Regardless of whether or not he was successful in adding a bit of extra frontal armor to Ishmael, he proceeded onto his next project: Incorporating the parts he had set aside into a single device. Attaching the fan belt to the lawnmower motor, he strung it around to the corroded blades. A few quick applications of grease and the clothing he salvaged earlier for a towl, and the blade was- hopefully- as good as new. Using what he had on hand, the mechanic used the screws and bolts from the lawnmower to wire three elements together: The fan belt, the electric motor and its blade, and the metal rod from the lawnmower's diagonal segment. OK, so four elements, but the basics were the same. Attach the elements together, then attach those elements into Mister Ha- Ishmael's power supply. A bit of a rough job, really, but attaching the improvised hack'n'slash weapon to the machine's flamethrower would help them out in the future.

Well, hopefully. Double the weapons, double the damage, after all!

[Randel]

Just curious, do you guys remember the OOC thread (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=122293) that we set up?

Ishmael looks on in mortified horror as John attaches makeshift weapons and armor made of old corroded lawnmower and motorcycle parts. The added weight of the armor throws the hovering robot off-balance and he starts drifting in circles, having to work hart to maintain balance.

"Uh, excuse me... uh, master? Yes, these are not exactly certified RobCo components and I'm pretty sure they would void my warranty." He tries to regain his balance, but the extra armor keeps his chassis tilted and he slowly drifts into a wall where he has to steady himself with his arms. He experimentally whirrs his lawnmower blade and you can almost see him frown.

"Yes... um, Master? Well, I'm sure this is a great bit of um... engineering... but I already have a sawblade and a flamethrower. This lawnmower contraption does not have the power or sharpness to cut through bone like my regular saw does. Oh, and my robotic claw has several hundred pounds of pressure in its grip with delicate precision, perfect for self-repair to get rid of those nasty dents and dings."

The high-tech robot looks at you with its three eyes almost weeping at how you threw its weight off balance and crippled it, then replaced its one non-weapon hand with a crummy lawnmower blade that would probably get stuck in the arm of the first raider it tried to attack.

[Liquidcore]

Gotta keep on truckin'

Marshall groaned, as if going down the stairs with that computer wasn't bad enough, now he had to go down into the sewer with it.
"Very well John, but this counts as a favor." He said, starting the (far too) long trek toward the sewer, computer in his hands.

[DMBlackhart]

Mobydik t

The shrouded man known as the reaper sits quietly in a corner while the others do their things. He salvages what books he can and sits by a window in a run down rocking chair. Sitting quietly, reading a book titled "Mobydik", and huming the song from the radio this morning, the reaper only looks up every few seconds to see what the others are doing. The robot intriques him for a few seconds, but only that long. The man seems to be in his own little world. Anything goooes.

t For some reason it is being censored, so I edited it.

[Randel]

Ishmael looks to see Marshal carrying the computer. "I could carry that for you, sir. Us, Mark II Mr. Handys are built for heavy lifting, maintenance, and moving in cramped utility tunnels. Erm, if I can get this bulky armor off... and get my hand back." he sighs.

[Liquidcore]

Is that supposed to be funny
"I'm sorry, were you talking to me?" Marshall asked the robot. "Listen, Ishmole, stop your bitching, I didn't know they programmed computers to be whiny SOB's." He said, annoyed by being delayed.
"That's very friendly of you, but I'm sure John can use your help better than I can... He said, heading out the door, into the sewers.

Help from a computer, did computers help him survive when he was young? Pish-posh, not being able to move a simple computer...what WAS this bot thinking.

[Darth_Malevo]

Aww. So much for combat Mister Roboto.

The mechanic let out a sigh at the machine's inability to cope. Now, if he could find a Sentry 'Bot, then he'd be golden. You could add a metric ton of armor onto those things, and they'd still keep ticking.

A centuries-old robot butler? Well, they just whined until their robotic eyes started leaking oil. Yes, John was complaining about a complainer. Don't judge him: Just love him. Regardless, the mechanic once more worked on the machine, shaking his head as he removed the offending parts in question. "I swear." He grumbled, "If you weren't just the cutest little thing, Ishy, then I'd not even bother."

Unfortunately, that left him with a semi-functional improvised weapon (that required a power supply...still...) and a hunk of metal.

A hunk of armor. Well, perhaps this wasn't entirely for naught? He could at least improvise some armor from the lawnmower chassis, if not much else. "Ishy!" He declared after removing the parts, "Could you please be a dear and remove the armor from those icky mutants outside? I want to use them as straps with this cute little chassis here."

And that was his plan: Improvise the lawnmower covering into a (somewhat bulky) breastplate for himself. Sure, he hadn't really been all that hurt yet, but he knew that with icky Raiders and Mutants everywhere, he'd need protection.

No, not that kind of protection. The other kind.

[Randel]

"Mutants?" Ismael blinks before heading outside. Soon you hear a series of buzzing noises and he returns with three sets of raider armor (one female Raider painspike armor, and two male raider blastmaster armor.) and two sets of mutant armor... which are rather bloody.

"I take it that the big green monsters were the mutants. But... the dead people with the clothes made out of old car parts and kitchenware looked a tad green around the gills so they probably count as well."

[Darth_Malevo]

"Thank you so much, Ishy!" The mechanic replied, John carefully taking the armor and putting it up on the workbench. Once finished, he disassembled the super mutant armor into the base components, attaching the straps from them onto the lawnmower chassis lying around. Finally, once that was all accomplished, he began work on the Raider armor, attempting to salvage what he could from one suit to make the end product the better than any of the three parts.