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Prologue: 13 Was My Number; Read in Ron Perlman voice!
Topic Started: Aug 29 2011, 10:58 PM (582 Views)
KvP
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Posted Image

War. War never changes.

Over two hundred years after the end of the world, what was once the American southwest has seen a new era of conflict. It is 2293, a generation has passed since the Chosen of Arroyo defeated the fascistic old world government of the Enclave, destroying their oceanic fortress and putting an end to both their genocidal aspirations, and their foothold in the west. But war never changes.

Emboldened by the removal of the Enclave's threat, the fledgling nation of the New California Republic grew in power and influence, dominating the California region and inheriting many of the trappings of the old forgotten world - democracy, prosperity, decadence, corruption. Unsated by their dominion close to home, the NCR turned its gaze east, through the Mojave desert, sending soldiers and caravans to secure resources and territory in the spirit of manifest destiny.

Soon enough, they found what they knew to be their prize - the Hoover Dam, undamaged from the Great War, dormant for two hundred years. With water and electric power in high demand in their burgeoning empire, the NCR moved to claim the Dam for its own, but doing so would not turn out to be so easy. The Dam had been protected and claimed by a man named House, the pre-war founder and CEO of Robco. Preserved inside a machine of his own design under a pre-war casino, House had almost single-handedly spared the Dam and the city of Las Vegas from the nuclear annihilation that had ravaged the rest of the world, and he was not going to give away what he had worked so hard to protect.

Across the Colorado river, in the state of Arizona, a different power had come to prominence. After fruitlessly seeking peace between warring tribal families, a young missionary from the Followers of the Apocalypse managed to unite a group of natives under his charismatic leadership. Through subterfuge and force, he defeated the tribes he had sought to placate and found himself at the head of a burgeoning, highly disciplined martial force. Changing his name and identity to reflect a history thousands of years and a world removed from his own, he became Caesar, and the tribes he conquered became his Legion. After assimilating or enslaving eighty-six tribes and pacifying the Arizona region utterly, Caesar brought his army west, to the Colorado, and the Hoover Dam. After a climactic battle atop the Dam that the NCR barely won, the forces of the NCR and Caesar's Legion remained in stalemate for a period of years.

The conflict, such as it was, ended with a single woman. A nameless courier, tasked with transporting a precious piece of technology to House's inner sanctum, was betrayed and left for dead. By the end of her journey, she had chosen to drive from the Dam and from New Vegas all who sought to control it. Caesar lay dead, his Legate retreating back to the east. The body of NCR's major general lay broken at the foot of the dam, and House's robot army had been wrested from him, and put to use keeping the city and its dam free from the machinations of those who would exploit it.

Twelve years have passed since that day. Stung by their defeat, and the denial of Hoover Dam's resources, the NCR retreated, briefly, before setting off back east, past New Vegas and the Dam, in search of some other means of sustenance, or perhaps an affirmation of purpose. Its spirit is not yet broken, but for many, its promise has faded beyond recognition, and there are still forces that, from the shadows, seek its end.

On a warm desert night, under the stars, a disparate group of travelers across the wasteland of the American southwest set their camps and rest. They are unaware of the turn their lives are about to take, or the responsibility they will soon be saddled with...

Posted Image
FALLOUT: VAN BUREN

*************

*** Here's how the game is going to function. For internal monolog, dialog, etc., use regular text. After you've done all of that you care to, use bolded text for in-game actions (using consoles, using skills, busting caps, etc.). It's a little hard to see with this (Pokemon!) theme, but organize it right and it should make sense. For out-of-character stuff, questions to me, etc., use italic text. When referring to characters, use bold underline though I'm sure I'll be doing most of that.

ALRIGHT. We are off. The next post is gonna be mine, and it'll detail where your characters are. It's going to be up to you to illustrate what they were doing before they got there. For your first post, do something like this:
"Sample first post"
 
Alexis Voldt

Posted Image

Alexis fidgets restlessly as the Overseer speaks. He's not bored, just ... strung out, going through withdrawals. When she starts speaking of the antenna and Geneva he turns on his Pipboy and starts peering at the ancient map, trying to figure out how far away the mountaintop is.

Code:
 
relevant stats


Having a pic is nice, let's people visualize stuff.

I've been conferring with folks via IRC and it's been suggested to me that we follow a "Round Robin" posting system to keep this from becoming confusing. I think that's a good idea. So this is how it's going to work - we're going to post in this order -
1. Alex C
2. Kharbevnor
3. Johnny C
4. Bryan
5. Phil
6. Est

Dig? Let's get this ball rolling!
Edited by KvP, Aug 30 2011, 08:57 PM.
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KvP
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CLANG

CLANG

CLANG

CLANG

Craig Shaw awakens. His eyelids feel heavy, and the sounds around him are... hollow, like the pressure in his ears has been thrown out of whack. He can hear the buzz of lights. Flourescents, by the sound of it. He sits up, but has to grab the bedframe to steady himself as vertigo hits him.This is not where he was last night. In the bunk above him, Perla stirs and wakes.

*Playing in this area*

Alex and Khar, you're up.
Edited by KvP, Aug 30 2011, 01:27 AM.
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Alex C
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Shaw carefully rises, using the bedframe to steady himself so he can size up his bunkmate and get his bearings.

Well, this is weird, he thought, I'm in a strange place with some tribal lookin' woman and I'm not even hungover. At least, he was fairly certain he wasn't hungover, despite the grogginess. He didn't need to piss too bad, nobody had their fun parts out and sounds were dull rather than piercing, so all told it would have been a very disappointing hangover by the standards he had once set in New Reno. Frowning, he ran a hand through his dark blond hair, gingerly checking for obvious injuries, then grunted in satisfaction when upon failing to find any particularly large holes in his head-- he didn't know medicine, but his childhood in Redding was rife with miners who'd blown out their ear drums blasting rock or "escorting" bandits off the premises. Mind, he didn't remember being in any blasts--hell, the last thing he remembered clearly was eating InstaMash-- but given that he had not a single clue where he was standing he figured that his memory didn't really count for shit anyway. He definitely needed someone to get him up to speed.

"So," he said to Perla,"What can you tell me about this place?"

(edited to correct particularly egregious grammar)
Edited by Alex C, Aug 30 2011, 05:04 PM.
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KharBevNor
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Perla realises something is wrong even before she is fuily awake. Her head feels strange, as if she is coming round from the after-affects of one of the givers-of-visions, but instead of feeling light and otherworldly her body feels heavy and unresponsive. That is not what panics her, however.

Perla scrabbles upright clasping at her chest and limbs

Where were her clothes? Someone had taken her clothing, her jewellery, her pouches and slings and replaced them with a blue...thing. Some town-dwellers garment. It was not uncomfortable, exactly, but it shocked her, as did the implications of being dressed and undressed whilst unconscious...and her jewellery... she could feel neither the braids or bangles she normally wore at her wrists, nor her bone necklace. Those were not idle items of decoration. A hand clutched at her face, and she was somewhat relieved to find her ear and nose rings still in place, her hair properly bound. Still, she felt extremely vulnerable as she blinked against the harsh, unnatural electric light and looked at her surroundings. She tried to calm herself, breathing and letting her initial panic subside. Fear's sting is poison, like the scorpions' she thought to herself, though she did not feel very brave at the moment, especially without a weapon of any sort. She started again as a creak from underneath her alerted her to the presence of a man, dressed similarly to her, emerging from a cavity (another bed?) beneath her. He rubbed his head, then turned, noticing her.

"So," he asked "What can you tell me about this place?"

Perla furrows her brow.

"I went to sleep under the stars. I sleep lightly."

She considered for a moment.

"I think we may be in trouble. What are you named?"
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KvP
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Del, Maddox, Spencer and Derek stir from their slumber.

You all feel groggy and sapped of energy, and experience some disorientation, as you wake. You all notice that you are wearing fresh jumpsuits, looking like this:
Posted Image
The number 13 is emblazoned on the back of them. There is also a large "13" in orange block letters on the wall. You all seem to be in a curved room, like the segment of a circle. There are three sets of bunk beds here, occupied by all of you, as well as a commode, a small table, a desk (with chair attached via a limb extension), a mirror, and lockers at the foot of each bunk. Opposite the lettered wall is a transparent window, made of glass or possibly plastic. There are small holes drilled into it along the top of the window. A segment of the window is edged on top and bottom by stainless steel - it looks to be a door of some kind, though there is no visible means of opening it.

Everybody is up and ready to do something. Perla and Shaw are conversing (obviously)
Edited by KvP, Aug 30 2011, 06:11 PM.
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Del Adams
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Del Adams opens his eyes and sees the bottom of a bed bunk. Hand flicks to hip. Grabs air.

Gun's gone. His eyes flick left, right. Bunk above him's filled. Can't see his hat. Blinks, heavy. It makes him feel like shit. After great effort he opens his eyes. Flicks em down. Wearing something that isn't what he usually wears. Certainly not what he was wearing last night. Last night he'd set up a campfire out front of the garage of an old Posiedon Energy gas station, after checking the place for roaches. He'd gone through Flagstaff for supplies a week previous, but didn't want anyone coming into the night and stealing away with them. As was his habit out in these parts of the wastes he'd rigged the door with a bottlecap mine, slept on his back behind the shop counter, wore his gun on his hip.

There'd only been one door last night, and he'd set up the mine in front of it. He frowns.

Looks up and over his right shoulder. He's seen a lot of tribals since leaving Nevada, where there are no real tribals to speak of anymore. Haven't been for the last couple of years. He's gotten used to what tribals are like. That woman's a tribal. The piercings and hair aren't a dead giveaway, but the tattoo sure is. He takes a good look at her to see if he can figure out, with the piercings, hair, and tattoo, if he can place the tribe.

The man doesn't look like a tribal. He's got scars, but that could mean anything. Definitely from something resembling civilization, though. It's the haircut that's the tipoff. Both of them are wearing the same thing, a blue-grey jumpsuit wit orange detailing. Gotta be the same thing on him. He looks down and to the right, towards his feet again, to check. There's another bunk with a shape occupying each level of it.

"So. What can you tell me about this place?"

Unblinking, he sets up and swings his legs over the side of the bed. It takes effort, so he does it slowly. Puts his palms on the edge of the bed and ducks to avoid the top bunk.

"I went to sleep under the stars. I sleep lightly."

Puts his palms on the edge of the bed.

"I think we may be in trouble. What are you named?"

Del looks around the room. He sees what's already been described, but he wants to take a couple seconds and take a really good look at everything, see if he can figure out what kind of scrape they're all in.
Edited by Del Adams, Aug 30 2011, 06:53 PM.
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KvP
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Del Adams rolls for Intelligence to discern Perla's tribe. Results: 1d10 x 1 = 3.

Del can't tell for sure, but the style of tattoo and hair indicate that the woman is from a mesa tribe in the Monument Valley, on the northern edge of Nevada territory. You've run into one or two in your travels, on caravan runs up to Burham Springs in Utah, before the place was abandoned. They tend to be skilled herbalists and generally peaceful, cultivating crops on the fertile tops of their mesas.

Del rolls for Perception to take in his surroundings. (1d10 - 1) x 1 = 5.

Del gets his bearings and, from his bed, surveys his surroundings. The window-wall looks out on what look to be three other rooms that seem to be identical to the one he is in currently, each forming a quarter section of a circle. Del can see figures in the other rooms, wearing jumpsuits similar to the sort he is. The room directly across from him seems to have a larger figure, standing some eight feet tall and massive in build.

The windows face inward, toward a column in the center of an atrium-like space. The column seems to be made of white concrete, except for a black glass band situated at roughly chest level from the base. There seems to be a second floor, as well - outside and to the left of the room is a set of stairs leading up, though Del can't tell what's on the second floor even across the atrium. Presumably more rooms.

Around the room, besides the features listed above, there looks to be some sort of protrusion from the wall, a smooth half-cylinder (think this jutting out of a wall) of white plastic, a few feet in length, with a small console attached to the side. On the desk there looks to be some sort of framed picture. The table has a small box on it. There is a loudspeaker on the high end of the far wall, and a red-tinted light next to it. Small contraptions portrude from the ceiling. Pre-war sprinklers?

One immediately noticeable thing about wherever it is you are - it's near-spotless. No dust or dirt or grime to speak of. Somebody's been taking care of this place.
Edited by KvP, Aug 30 2011, 08:51 PM.
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KvP
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**** I've been conferring with folks via IRC and it's been suggested to me that we follow a "Round Robin" posting system to keep this from becoming confusing. I think that's a good idea. So this is how it's going to work - we're going to post in this order -
1. Alex C
2. Kharbevnor
3. Johnny C
4. Bryan
5. Phil
6. Est

With myself providing info / math / descriptions / whatever as needed. When in combat this order will change to reflect sequence stats. Good? Good. I'll put this up in the OP as well.
***
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Del Adams
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Del moves cautiously towards the glass to get a better look at the tall figure.
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KvP
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Del moves to the glass, presses his index fingers against his forehead and leans into it, trying to focus on the large figure across the atrium. Del hasn't seen too many super mutants in his time, but the thing across the way is definitely one of them. Massive, muscled arms, thick hands, and greenish skin. It seems to be sitting on its bunk. It notices you, and in a single motion, draws a meaty hand out in a wave of greeting. Oddly enough, it's wearing a jumpsuit that fits. Guess they thought of everything.

At this point Del also notices that the neck of the jumpsuit is flared out, and curiously solid. He looks down at his own suit and realize that it terminates in a collar. Lightweight plastic, probably quite durable. There's an unlit red LED on it, and a keyhole, under which the zipper for the jumpsuit begins, before terminating on the outside of your right leg. Luckily, looks like the fly is separate, and goes all the way to the small of your back. Charming, that.

The others who are conscious have probably noticed that you're up and about.

Bryan, you're up.
Edited by KvP, Aug 30 2011, 09:31 PM.
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Del Adams
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Can we carry on conversations in-character without having to wait a turn?
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KvP
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Actually you're right, going Round Robin on conversations would take entirely too long. A full convo counts as one action, but other things can happen while that keeps going. So Alex / Khar can continue their convo, and you can probably butt in if you so desire.

Growing pains y'all
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Bryan
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Can we assume information already given to other characters earlier in the rotation is evident to our characters during their actions?

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Derek rises groggily, blinking a few times as his eyes adjust to the light. He shakes his head for a moment to clear his thoughts, tries to remember where he was before waking up. He was on a procurement mission to the various settlements south of what remained of Santa Fe. They were nearby and usually had some need of minor repairs, Mister Handys or Auto-Docs that needed a quick tune-up. A handful of those easy jobs usually netted him enough fresh water to supply the fort for a month, if he was lucky and found a town in a serious bind he could usually get a spare pack brahmin for the trouble. Made getting the load back a lot easier, and the Knights would always flip their shit when they found out they'd be getting fresh meat for a day or two.

He looked down; these weren't his scribe robes, and his laser pistol, tools, and caps were all gone. The jumpsuit reminded him of the Vault-Tec style. He had come across a few vault dwellers in his time but the elders didn't like dealing with them, said they already had too much tech for their own good. Derek always thought that was a little stupid. In the two centuries since the war most pre-War tech in those oversized sardine cans was busted anyway, and the dwellers often didn't know how to use what was left. But the vaults didn't usually have much to offer the Brotherhood anyway so it hardly mattered.

He sized up his unwitting compatriots as unobtrusively as possible. The tribal woman and ghoul were the obvious standouts, the other two didn't appear particularly distinctive but outside of his Brotherhood gear Derek guessed he wouldn't look like anything special either. The Super Mutant across the hall was the first living one he'd seen in his life; the typical protocol of the Brotherhood scouting parties was to shoot mutants on sight and most of the Knights weren't fond of taking chances. None of them seemed particularly hostile and Derek doubted he could hold his own in an unarmed fight with any of them, so there didn't seem to be much point in pushing the issue.

He gets out of his bunk and heads over to investigate the desk and lockers while addressing the rest of the room. "We should probably start looking for a way out, or at least try to find some water and food if we're stuck in here."
Edited by Bryan, Aug 30 2011, 11:49 PM.
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KvP
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Yeah, just to keep things simple, unless I indicate otherwise or it's something that a character has specifically made a roll to find, any character in the same general vicinity can see what any other character sees.

Derek walks over to the desk, and examines the framed picture. In sharp contrast to the rest of the room, the picture and a small radius around it on the table are nearly caked with powdery dust. The dust on the table makes a relatively neat circle, before Derek's breath disturbs it and a small plume puffs into the air. Wiping dust from the glass, Derek sees what appears to be a smiling woman. Given the accumulation of dust and the look of the woman in the picture, this could be well over 200 years old.

The desk has a small drawer on the lefthand side of it. A simple mechanical arm juts out from the right side of the desk, and a cushioned seat is fixed upon it. It appears all furniture is bolted to the floor.

Putting the picture down for now, Derek moves to the lockers at the foot of the beds. They have simple latches, but all but one seem to be locked. The one unlocked case opens to reveal a small leather-bound book, the paper sandwiched between the covers a deep yellow. "Gideon's Bible" is engraved on the thin black binding.
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Del Adams
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Del turns his head to address the new, third voice. "Start looking for the kitchen, then," he says, tilting his head to indicate the mutant across from him. "There's a mutant on the other side of this glass who looks like he's in the same shape we're in. I'd wager he's not here by choice, and if he hasn't found a way to check out yet, our odds aren't good."
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Alex C
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Shaw turned and surveyed the new activity before he answered, considering the situation carefully as the other two talked. His memory and hearing were sliding back into place nicely, but none of it told him anything promising. He remembered his rag-tag caravan had been hit hard by raiders and everyone was either dead or scattered. In a way he supposed he was lucky; despite working the last few years as hired muscle he was something of a city boy at heart and knew he wouldn't have snowball's chance in the Mojave of making it back to civilization on his own given the circumstances-- he'd always left the real navigating and trail craft to the drovers. People hired him because he was handy with an automatic, not play at Desert Rangers. Still, this place sure as hell didn't look like any slaver pen he'd ever seen, and he had been alone and (relatively) secure when he had bivvied.

"My name is Shaw," he said loudly enough for everyone to hear,"And I'm inclined to agree with both the lady and our bald friend here. I'm just hoping that trouble cooks."
Edited by Alex C, Aug 31 2011, 10:27 AM.
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KharBevNor
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Perla decided she might as well volunteer her own name, before one of these strange men lumbered her with a less kind one.

"I am Perla, daughter of Myrne" she says. Then she turned to the hairless one who she first saw.

"Mutants often have big hands and small brains. If we got in here we must be able to get out."
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Del Adams
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"They aren't bright, Perla, daughter of Myrne, but it's not easy to take one captive, let alone keep him there," Del says. He turns away from the window and frowns thoughtfully at her. "Name's Del, and I'm not amenable to it, either. And neither are mesa tribals, if I had to guess. You're too agile, quick-witted.

He sighs, and measures his voice more carefully. He doesn't know much more about the situation than this girl, and doesn't care to condescend to her. He puts his finger to his neck, careful not to touch the collar. "Look, far as I know, you don't put a collar on a man who's free to come and go as he pleases, and we've all got one on. We might be smarter than him over there, but brains alone can't open a lock." He ambles back to his bunk and sits down, relaxing slightly. "If you have an idea and want me to give you a hand, I'm all ears. I ain't much for imagination."
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Alex C
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"That's assuming we're really locked in. You want an idea? Check that console.It sounds like they caught me and Perla so slick that they may not be too worried about folks escaping. For all we know that thing gives access to a yard or an intercomm."
Edited by Alex C, Aug 31 2011, 07:44 PM.
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Bryan
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"You read my mind. If nothing else it might at least give us some indication where we are." Derek checks the console, attempting to access a command line if possible.
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