Callyx

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

Eric

Eric, Enroute to Salem

Eric was on his way out of the Castle. After the last few tasks had been done and he paid the remaining caps, his weapons were back in tip top shape. Sure, he could have gotten a lot of other things, but this was something that he had grown to trust far more than other weapon. His armor wasn't the best either, but the repaint on it all was simply stunning to say the very least about it.

He was honestly glad for the cooler night tonight. Most people would tell him that he shouldn't travel at night, and while that is partly true... Eric had an idea of what was going to happen. He had heard the odd report of raiders or bandits attacking smaller groups or singles of travelers and waylaying the hell out of them. Outgunned and outclassed, most of them surrendered, but some times they fought back. Eric was hoping to run into one or two of these on his way to scout out Salem. If it was true, maybe he could put down a few of them...

If it proved to be false, then he could clock it up to bad reports or that he was just wasn't lucky. He slipped off the road once in the remains of the town outside of the castle, walking low with his rifle in his hands. He took his time, picking his way across when he heard voices down the road. It was scattered and muffled, but he could hear them.

“...Big score man. I'm telling you, a caravan always comes down this road. The musket heads are fools most of the time too, they don't bother to patrol this close to their precious castle because it should warn us off. Ha. What fuckin' fools.” A male voice said. “Ya got any more jet?”

Sitting around a small trashcan fire were indeed four raiders. He hadn't seen anyone in these parts in a while. Must be a newer or just foolhardy gang of assholes. Three men and a woman. Damn it... He hated having to kill women. The man and the woman moved off to patrol, scouting if the caravan was heading this way or not. Slinging his rifle, Eric moved through the shadows, aiming to keep as silent as possible.

The puff of the inhaler for jet whispered through the air, and Eric started to count. It was an extreme high, but it was always so short lived. At a quick count of thirty, he raised up from his hiding spot. The man who was with him was rooting through a bag when the first one got a knife the back of his skull. Drawing the blade back out, he pushed the body forwards as it twitched from the rapidly dying cells of the brain.

Falling upon the second, the man cursed out. “What the hell man!? Can't wait for your next hit? Really?” When he spoke, it was clear he was pissed off. When he realized that his friend's blood was now all over him, Eric struck out with the combat knife. The blade found flesh in the man's throat, and the twist and pull sealed his fate.

That was two down, two more to go. A quick search found a note, twelve caps, and a few .32 rounds with their armor and pipe pistols. Yeah, no thanks. He took the note, caps, and bullets, and then pressed on. He had to hunt down the other two raiders that had left on patrol before they could come back and freak out. It didn't take long for him to find them either. The two had used this moment to get off with each other. He had her pressed against the wall, pants off for both of them, and was just going to town. She was biting down on a bit of wood to keep from screaming out. It was great for them, even better for him.

Slipping up behind them, he pulled back out his rifle, waiting for the in stroke and stabbing forwards. The bayonet sliced through flesh just under the ribs and the pain made it so he didn't call out. She probably figured it was a harder thrust until the bullet fired. The .45 round ripped though the both, dropping them both dead on the side of the road. Eric wasn't even going to warrant this one with a search. Let them rot. Overall, a rather fruitful adventure so far! And he wasn't even twenty minutes away from the Castle!

With a shrug, he would look to his pip-boy. It was still working, lucky him, and he knew he would have to radio back to them before too long. He still had a few days however. He could reach Salem in two or three, two if he tried and was willing to risk being on the road in broad daylight. Popping his neck, he would continue down the road, heading towards Salem, and perhaps to see if it was a good place to settle down at like he had been told.

Rook

Rook – Salem Diner

Rook at the offered beer. It was an odd thing, he had never been offered a beer before, much less decided to get one for any reason. He tended to avoid drinks like this because he had no idea what it would do him. He had seen dozens of fights after people drank several of these... Perhaps one wouldn't hurt...

He smiled and raised it up, taking a drink from it and shaking his head afterwards. “Rook thinks this drink is funny. Not sure if drink is for him. Rook will still try to drink it however. Don't want caps to be wasted.” Rook said, trying his best to be polite for what was offered to him. After all, he did seem to slightly hurt some feelings by buying his own food.

But he ate a lot, and didn't want to make people broke trying to help keep him fed. He could do that on his own. But she was being nice to him, trying to make him feel welcome, and in truth, it was not a feeling he was really used too. People like Frieda seemed to be the norm, where people wanted to kill him instead of give him a shot of some kind. He knew it was going to take a while to get trust from some people... But he wasn't expecting others to be so open.

Lost in his mind for a bit, he realized he had finished his bottle. He set it aside and looked to Brandy for a moment. “Rook liked that, but Rook will stick with water for now. Rook doesn't want to drink all the beer!” He laughed, smiling a bit at her.

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

Posting for a less socially awkward character.

Eric Stonewell

Name: Eric Stonewell

Age: 26

Race: Human (Vault-Dweller)

Sex: Male

Skills: Scouting (Sneak/Stealth), Wilderness Survival (cooking, meat harvesting), Weapon Skills (Self taught for most of it), Mechanical Skills (Minor Maintaining) Overall, Eric is a self taught survivalist in this world of unknowns and death all around. He has taken what skills he has seen others use, and ones he has learned on his own. While he is not the best at these, he has enough skill to survive in this place.

Personality: Driven, focused, and hard working is what the members of Vault 81 would say about Eric. In the Wastelands however, everything gets a bit muddled. Eric has adapted to life in the Wastelands a bit too well. While he has not become a raider, there are times when he uses rather questionable tactics and can be murky when it comes to morals at times. Over all, Eric does want to help people, but he tends to hold that most wastelanders are always after something when you help you.

While he is focused and driven, he can some times get tunnel vision, forgetting about his surroundings as he dives towards his goal, and this has cost him a few times, and he has the scars to show it. He is hard working, but this is again something that can cause many problems for him as well, as he can lose sight of his own safety or limits.

Weapons & armor/clothing: Eric is a man who values what he currently has and knows it will mean the difference between living and dying. He still wears his original Vault 81 suit, but it has been clearly patched in places. Over his chest is the front part of the rather useful, and commonly seen, metal armor. His armor has been welded so it is heavier, but more resistant to firearms. His arms and legs are covered with heavy studded leather, allowing the freedom of movement with a degree of protection. The armor is worn and has seen much use in the wastelands.

His main weapons are of prewar design. A well maintained and heavily modified Combat Rifle with a rather large bayonet on the barrel, a basic heavy 10mm pistol, and a combat knife that seems to have been scavenged from a prewar military installation.

Mods for Gear

Metal Armor (Chest, Heavy, Stealth, Asbestos Lined)

Leather Armor (Arms and Legs, Sturdy, Studded mod on all, Sleek for Legs, Pocketed on Arms)

Vault 81 Suit (Shielded), Vault 81 Security Helmet (Repainted)

Combat Rifle (Glow Sights, Calibrated Powerful Receiver, Full Stock, Long Ported Barrel, Large Bayonet, Large Magazine)

10mm Pistol (Heavy model, well used)

Combat Knife (Serrated, stealth)

Previous Factions:

Faction: Vault 81

Backstory: Eric Stonewell comes from a group of people who has always wanted to open the Vault to the outside world. He was one of the advocates for it as well, and when the doors were opened for traders, he started his training regime. He did what he could in the vault, and upon the second half being opened, he was one of the ones who did physical labor to help prepare his body for the heavy lifting of the wilds.

When the colony was approved for the outside, he was the first to step forwards to help build the colony. The walls, the buildings, the towers, everything for the vault colony was something he helped to build, but he realized they would need more. Sure, the Sole Survivor helped make sure trade caravans got there, and the Minutemen were all over the place, but... There would always be break downs in things.

That is when the idea dawned on him. A second location they could colonize, or even just eventually retreat to if they ever needed it, their own form of Project Safehouse. Eric was one of many who would go out to do this. Diamond city was always an idea, but it was too crowded and had far, far too many snobbish people, so something else was needed.

Bring handed a 10mm pistol, a Vault-Security Suit, some water and rations, he made his way into the wastelands. It didn't take long for him to have to start modifying things, trading services for equipment, and generally learning how to survive out here. He found a combat rifle, battered and badly damaged, on the beach during his explorations, and with the help of the Minutemen, he got it functional and modified to his liking. He traded with them as well, eventually helping to set up a deal for himself, he would spread the word of the Minutemen, and help where he could, and in exchange, they would help him with his gear.

Add several months of time, many dead raiders, and a lot of walking, Eric was now on his way to Salem. Rumors of people trying to start up a settlement there had peaked his ears. The Minutemen had no force out here, few traders, and many issues. It sounded perfect. He knew it was going to take a few days to reach it. He was going to leave out of the Castle and travel there on his own. It was going to be fun.

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

Rook - Salem Diner

The offer of Radstag and Mole Rat was almost too much. He loved the flavor of both, and perhaps he would be able to get some more to trade him later for other meats later on down the road. For now, it seemed as if Brandy wanted to pay for his meats. He didn't really like that idea, but before things could be handed over, she was seemingly distracted by someone else talking about how they had shot at him.

“Rook will pay. Do not rip off Rook, but he has trouble counting some times, so take what it costs, please?” He would set the bag upon the table, it had about a hundred caps in it. “Take what it will cost for Radstag and some Mole Rat as well. Rook still has plenty of tatos and carrots still in his stew. Thank you Mr. Cooker Man.”
There was yelling and the sound of metal being hit, followed by the sound of something crumbling. Before he could get up however, the man returned to summon forth the doctor. He was curious, but he knew better to get up, at least when it came to people needing medical attention beyond himself. It usually caused too many issues when a Super Mutant wanted to aid someone.

A voice caught him, the harsh whisper of the shooter woman from before.”I swear to whatever is important in this world that the very second you give me a single reason to shoot at you, my aim will be true and deadly. Do you hear me?” She hissed at him.

“Rook is disappointed in Shooter Lady. Rook would have expected her to learn some kind of tolerance in the wastelands. Now you will be looking for a reason to just murder Rook and justify it by saying Rook was being bad. Shooter Lady is no different than the raiders in the Pitt.” He said, shaking his head, his voice low for her.

“Make sure she gets cold beer. Rook can carry things to help repair cold maker after he finishes with wall. Rook needs help on it. Rook has ideas, but not sure how to make them work. Maybe someone in town can help?” Rook asked, packing up the meat after he was done paying for it. “Children of Atom a threat to town, so sooner we build walls, better. Rook can ignore their tickle guns, but he has seen other friends die from them. Don't want to see new ones die here.”

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

Rook, Rooks Wall/Diner Ramp

“Go ahead. Rook understands that. Rook knows some times that long day makes people smell funny. Change as you need, but don't change into a ghoul, or you lose your hair.” He laughed, trying to make a joke as she smelled her armpit. “Rook will wait.”
When she sprinted off, Rook walked to his shack rather quickly, stripping out of his armor so he was in his normal pants again. He didn't want to scare anyone into thinking he was going to hurt them by wearing his armor. That was the last thing he wanted to do. In truth, he worried that someone might think it anyways because he was a Super Mutant after all, his... Kind, weren't exactly known for being kindhearted or pleasant.

Rook returned to his spot where he had been when she left only a few moments before Brandy returned with purse, yellow dress, and a smile. Rook grinned as best as he could at her and walked with her to the Diner. He could hear people inside talking, seeming to be full of life and happiness. It was a good thing, and when Brandy took his hand to lead him in, he accepted... At least to the door...

He was too big to fit through the door as she did. He laughed once, set his white flag inside of the door, hunched down and shifted through the door. Even in this place, he knew he had only so much room to move around. His eyes would scan the room for a moment, and he would lift his flag.

“Rook is here to buy meat. Does Cooker Man have radstag? Or maybe man has found something better? Bhamin meats?” He grinned a bit wider. “Rook has caps and small things to trade, if Cooker Man is open to that as well. Rook is hungry, and building wall takes so much energy.”

Part of him hoped no one would pull a gun on him. He knew people were trigger happy with most mutants, he only hoped that he was not going to have to nurse many wounds this time.

For those with Medical Knowledge

Rook has various scars and healed wounds upon his body. There is a scar on the back of his head, seeming like a laser or energy weapon fired at very close range in a manner of execution. On his right shoulder there is the healed scar from some kind of slashing weapon. His right and left arms also show signs of slashing wounds in the past as well.

On his exposed back, there appears to be long claw marks, faded from time, but the nature of them would suggest a Yao Guai attack. On his chest he does have small scars from bullets, and a few of them even show signs of surgery upon them. The one that does stick out the most however, is a scar upon his neck, where it looked like someone had, unsuccessfully, attempted to slit his throat, but didn't get deep enough.

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

You…You have gentle eyes, they’re warm.” Brandy peered around Rook at the wall then back, “You moved all of this stuff by yourself?” She looked at the wall again, “HOLY CRAP, THAT IS AWESOME,” her last words filled with astonishment. She looked at her hand in his large green hand; her hand couldn’t even reach across his palm. “Thank you, what you have done already is AMAZING,” she reached as wide as she could and gave Rook a hug.

The hug caught him off guard. That was not something he used to at all. Most people tended to avoid physical contact with a Super Mutant unless they gave a handshake or took caps from them. That was how it came to like... 99% of the normal human population. Sure, the odd ghoul or two didn't seem to care, but beyond that, it was the whole 'keep yer distance mutie!' relationship.

“Ya know, I just got back into town from The Sanctuary, needed some supplies.” She looked up at Rook, “Some people will be scared of you, but I see the warmth in your eyes and I can tell…you won’t hurt anybody.” Brandy grinned ear to ear, “I know of one person we could prank, but we can wait on that. I’m kinda hungry myself. Why don’t we eat and work on the wall in the morning, we can call it Rook’s Wall.”

“Rook doesn't like to hurt people. Rook will defend friends, defend home, but he doesn't like hurting unless he has no choice.” He responded, pondering a moment. “Rook like the idea of Rook's Wall being the name. We can build up wall a lot, make it hard to break through. Rook has ideas, but Rook has no way to getting them set up. Rook not good with machines to be able to get wall set up super well.”

Brandy looked around the coast and saw a shack, “Do you have electricity? I mean, if that is your shack that is? If not, I have an extra generator and with the shack that close to the water I can give it to you to power your shack if you’d like? I have a couple extra desk fans too, might help ya sleep when it’s hot out.”

“Rook has shack where Mirelurk King used to live. Rook killed Mirelurk so it was no threat to town. Took shack to make it better. Rook can swim when it gets hot, keep fans for people in big buildings. Generator for making opening and closing of gate easier. Rook wants to make town safe before Rook gets comfortable himself. Rook wants to see town grow, town prosper.” He nodded once, the flag still moving in the wind as he looked to the diner. “We should get food before man closes doors for night.”

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

Rook was nearly done for the day. He saw the one people had said was a doctor heading his way as well. When he froze, Rook wondered why he would do that? That was when Rook realized this doctor man probably didn't know what a white flag was! Of course! It was so simple!

Laughing, Rook waved the flag and then waved a hand. "Rook is not here for fighting, Rook is here for living and trading. And Rook is building things. Doctor man has no need to check on Rook. Rook is more healthy than... ummm... very healthy humans!"

With another laugh, Rook looked back to his basic wall frame before he was approached again. He was popular today, and it felt rather good in truth. It felt like they were making an honest effort to be friendly with him. When she finished speaking, Rook held out his hand, taking her own tiny hand to his and giving her a gentle shake.

"Hello Brandy. Rook is Rook. Rook is friendly. Rook is also attempting to make wall for town. Rook needs to get food for tonight however, so he needs to stop work for now." He pondered for a moment. "Unless you are helping Rook, then he can keep working for now."

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

Rook, Salem Outskirts

Rook had been... Blissfully unaware of the events happening around him. He had heard them when they first came by, but it was the wrong direction, and a quick look told him he was not in danger, these were traders. If they attacked the town he would know, his hearing was still quite good. Even unarmed, he knew he was better in combat than nearly anyone there... At least in hand to hand.

So, axe would continue to rise and fall, chopping off tree limbs and stripping bark. When this tree was done, it was time to move them. He was unaware of the men who had guns trained on him, and if they shot at him... It was not going to be a good day for anyone involved. He grabbed one of the logs, lifting it onto his shoulder and walking several steps to the edge of the flatbed, before carefully setting it down on the ground below. He would need to bury it, but he lacked a shovel at the moment. Plus he had no cement. That was a problem.

With a shake of his head, he walked to the other side of the flatbed, repeating the process so there were two trees resting on the ends of the flatbed trailer. Wiping his brow, he looked to the sky and then to the ground. It was getting late, later than he had expected. Only the one girl had arrived. Oh well. More work tomorrow.

Stepping down from the trailer, he would pick up his white flag and uncover his stash of caps. Assuming no one shot at him, he would start towards the diner now, still looking to buy some meat so he could augment his stew. It was getting rather thin after all, and this was why he came to town in the first place!

OOC

At this point, I'm going to let others take control of Barney, they will either vouch for Rook, or will attack him. Either way will be interesting.

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

Rook, Salem Outskirts

Rook waved as the woman left him to his devices. With axe in hand, he was working on cutting down several of the trees. With each one that was felled, he would carry it to the flatbed and lay it across. He had a lot in mind, and he was hoping others would arrive soon enough. He was not the best at this when he was alone.

The axe would raise and fall several times, working on cutting off the branches and stripping off parts of the bark. He knew the bark could hide a number of things, but he wanted that off so it was easier to attach things to it later. With the first tree taken care of, he would push all the branches down to the ground, leaving the bark for a different pile. These would make for great kindling later.

This whole process took nearly an hour. His physical power was such that he could do these things without much issue, but it was time consuming. Sure, explosives would work, but that would damage the tree and make it mostly useless for what they needed to do. With the first tree taken care of, he would move to the second, and repeat the process until he had six of them cut down and on the flat bed, ready to be used for the wall.

He sat on the edge of the flat bed, giving himself a few moments to rest and relax. He had to pace himself, if he didn't, he would become useless if someone attacked while he was working. Drinking another bottle of water, he would set the plastic bottle aside, looking to the sky for a moment and seeing if there was going to be rain any time soon.

“Rook needs to get this working sooner. Maybe Old Man has some ideas... Or some lights! Lights would make it a lot better for Rook to work later. And then can use the lights to defend Salem by making the road show in the darkness.”

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

Rook sat and listened to the woman talk. She spoke of people setting themselves up to be gods, or simply not caring about one thing or another. He had seen this many, many times as well. He had spent close to twenty years wandering the wastelands afterall.

Rook wants to put trust that people are not all bad. Rook has seen many things as well. The Pitt, they made Rook fight for life. Capital Wasteland was hard and unforgiving. York Square is very close to that. Raiders, bandits, and monsters fight and kill those who are honest, hard-working, or simply wanting to be good.

"Salem has bad past, but has good people. Rook talks to you, and you listen, so you cannot be bad. Lady with plasma gun simply did not understand white flag, was afraid of Rook. Rook understands, he is too handsome to not be intimidated by." He would stand up and smile at the woman. "Rook will return to work now."

Turning, he would still listen to her, but he would also start making adjustments to the cars. He looked at them and then nodded. Looking back at her, he would hold up a finger to signal to wait, and return to his shack. He was only gone a few moments, before returning with a very well worn axe.

Assuming no one shot at him or freaked out, he would start cutting down one of the trees, aiming to use this as the first starts of the lumber they would use for the framework of the walls.

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

Rook had gotten the second car in place when the first person had shown up. She was not what he expected. A thin woman, who probably had less meat on her than a bloatfly. Still, she was offering to help, showing off phantom might and a smile. If nothing else, she would make good company. He sat on the edge of the flatbed, drinking a thing of water. It was collected water from the rain, so it should be safe for her to drink.

He had long ago learned he could drink from places most humans would get sick from. When she arrived and offered her hand, Rook reached out, carefully wrapping his hand around her smaller hand. He gave a gentle, almost oddly careful shake of her hand. “Rook is pleased to meet you. Lorelel Jones is kind to help Rook out. Maybe she can see flaws in Rooks' plans better than he can.” He offered her the water and then went to work again.

Crouching down, he remade his little map, a bit better than the other one in town. “Rook is building defenses for town. Rook has been in the Wastelands for many years, has seen one thing in common with all successful settlements. Walls.” He sounded as if this was ancient wisdom being passed on. “Rook wants to build walls here, and towers, so we can see bad people before they arrive. Salem in good place, with many good things around. Old Man Barney said there is a militia here. They can man towers, Rook does not like to climb. Or swim. Swim is where bad things are.”

Looking at her, he was probably still close to most peoples height while crouched down. “Rook will still help bring up metal boxes from water though. Many good things are in water, and maybe can use it to make more things for Salem to be safe. Rook doesn't want to see Salem hurt. Too many people die because of the Wastelands. Rook not want people here to die either..."