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    1. halt 11 yrs ago

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ManoftheNorth said
You don't dis all of America, you dis the American Leaders. Ok? I am an American, and I dislike our leaders, but I love our land and what it was built for, do not slam a nation, for it's modern idiocracy, blame the Idiot leading this idiocracy.


Im litterally a poor fat american :p not a slam on the nation lol
That feel when ill never know a true english pub because im a poor amerifat :/
Onion rings are god tier bar food
Tallahassee took a seat down next to Viktor, "Well viktor, I cant say your wrong. Now it isnt everyday one comes across a man who carries a shotgun, or has a russian accent, even in the wastes." Tallahassee's face was brightening as he spoke, smiling at his own abilities. "Also I noticed your attire and gear suggest you have training of some sort, rule no. 1 is survival right?" As he said this he stared off at the bar again. "You look bored, and I'm sick of going through hell alone." Tallahassee looked at Viktor, "Lets start up a crew, no leaders, no bullshit, we are out to help each other and stay alive, maybe make a little cash in the meantime."

He looked at Viktor and smiled, he couldn't read this guy. "I guess thats why I
was so interested" he thought. "So viktor, what do we say?" As he said this he flicked his cigarette in the air while still staring at Viktor. "You in or out?"
A russian and a southerner. This may get interesting.
Tallahasse stood out front of the bar, partly to size up the patrons and mostly to smoke his joint. He got a few weird looks but it technically wasnt illegal in the wastes, law had more important problems than drugs. He watched a foul smelling man with goggles enter, as well as a few drunks, but nothing interesting. That was until a man walked out. He had a strong strut about him, "Looks pissed," Tallahassee thought. "Let's go see what's up."

He tossed his roach to the side and stomped it into the ground. The man had taken refuge on a burned building. Tallahassee approached him and eyed him up. He seemed....better than the others, talented, hardened, sharp. "Well not to sharp, he hasnt even noticed me walking up" He thought. This guy was perfect, Tallahassee had plans, and he could use help.

"Hey man, whats eatin ya?" He said aloud to the man. "Walk like that you'd think your about to commit murder." He sat down next to his potential friend and pulled out his skokes, lighting one he offered another to his potential friend. "Names Tallahassee, nice ta meet ya."
TheyMostlyComeAtNight said
I got nothin, Where'dya figure folks get all those fancy 'narcotics' out in the wild?on another note I have decided that this is the day that I stop being nocturnal! celebrations all round.


Grown/made as long as humanity is around there will be a market for it, maybe even some new drugs made due to the nuclear fallout.
My writing is a bit rusty guys so please bear with me while I get my footing again. Anyway also please tell me if there is a line to substances we can acquire? I have a feeling Tallahassee is a bit of an addict.
Tallahassee had been travelling for what seemed like days with no issue whatsoever. "Its always the last mile," he thought to himself as he crouched behind rubble. The bandits had spotted him roughly a half mile back, he noticed them a few miles ago. Now it seems they had finished just watching, he was forced into quick cover by the sound of bullets. The bandits where charging, and quickly, firing into the air. The bullets continued to sound off, "Is it a scare tactic?" Tallahassee thought, "Perhaps they are trying to seem like a bigger group." Suddenly the bullets stopped, he decided to chance a quick look. Not three seconds above cover and he was shot at, but he got what he needed. "Two targets." He spoke to himself, a habit he didn't enjoy but had someone acquired. "Not much firepower but enough i suppose." Tallahassee got out his pistol, a puny 9mm he stole from a neighborhood long ago. He heard no movement and no gunshots had been fired, now was his chance.

Tallahassee quickly popped up and pointed the gun at the nearest bandit. Out of habit the bandit dropped, giving him time to move to a closer pillar. He was out of view of both bandits, yet only ten yards from his nearest attacker. A quick glance showed him the other bandit had ducked as well. "Good they have no idea where i am." He quickly popped out and, before either assailant could attack, he fired one shot into the nearest bandits head. The familiar thud of his corpse falling was music to Tallahassee's ears. The second let out a scream at the sight of his dead friend. Tallahassee heard running footsteps slowly fade into the distance. "Typical cowards." Tallahassee thought. He heard the sound of shuffling where a corpse should be. Gun at the ready he approached to find the man he had just shot struggling for his gun with a fairly devastating looking wound. "Aw come now man please don't fight it." Tallahassee said aloud. His words went in vain, the man kept struggling. "Damnit, i hate this part." In one move Tallahassee pulled out his knife and slit the mans throat. "Sorry bud, cant afford to risk you being alive." His would-be killer was wearing a, now bloodstained, jean jacket with a patch over the heart. It was a snake eating it own tail. No words, with a small circle border around the snake. He quickly cut it off and put it in his pocket.

"This is just a kid" Tallahassee thought, "cant be more than 20." His gear was none more impressive, a 9mm in even worse condition than his own with only 6 bullets, a switchblade, and a pack of cigarettes. "How where you gunna smoke these with no lighter kid?" Tallahassee thought aloud. He pocketed the smokes, loaded his spare magazine with the bullets and laid the switchblade in the kids hand. Just as Tallahassee was about to pack up and go he noticed something on the ground near the bandit. It appeared to be a cigarette but was hand rolled. Upon picking it up and sniffing he discovered something that made his heart flutter. "IT"S A JOINT! Thank you so much kid! if you weren't so bloody and gross I would kiss ya!" Tallahassee exclaimed. He put the joint in the cigarette pack and started walking again. Aurora's End was nearby.

After another hour of walking Tallahassee finally saw what appeared to be a man made wall. Closer investigation showed the material to be tires, he was paying such close attention to the wall he hadn't noticed the bus with a militia pointing assault rifles at him. "STOP!" This made Tallahassee jump and instinctively reach for his gun, upon seeing the militia he determined that to be a mistake. He put his hands in the air, "Whoa there! Why don't we all calm down?" he said. "What is your business at Aurora's End?" Tallahassee noticed the speaker as an older gentleman with an AK-47 on his back, lit cigarette in his mouth. "Well, see now I'm on vacation, and a little birdy told me you guys have the best margaritas in town." Tallahassee said, with a thick layer of sarcasm. "Cracking wise will earn you a bullet here stranger." Not even a smirk crossed the military mans lips. "Now ill ask one more time, What is your business here stranger?" Tallahassee took his queue "I just need somewhere safe to stay for a week or so." The militia leader gestured to him and a couple members came up and checked Tallahassee. "One 9mm and one knife sir." One member yelled to his leader. "Let him be, don't cause any trouble stranger, I'm watching you." With that the bus doors opened and Tallahassee walked into the safe haven. "Its Tallahassee sir, just for future reference." He said as he walked, "Hey buddy, where can i get a drink?" He asked a militia member, he was pointed to a small shack with a equally as impressive sign, "The Pumphouse".
In Paint 11 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Name: Kyle "punk" Straw
Age: Sprayer
Appearance: Kyle looks like your average street kid. Short black unkempt hair, ragged clothing, beaten up khaki jacket with dark green cargo pants and a t-shirt with the anarchy symbol. He stands about 5`11" and
though he is on the smaller size his strength greatly makes up for it. His forearms bulged and his hands
where calaced and rough.
Gear: Spray paint, old backpack containing a ski mask,
for his nightly affairs, brass knuckles, and a
sketchbook.
personality:laid.back, kind of a stoner
Background: Kyle spent his life on the street. His parents where killed by police officers during a shootout with criminals. He spents his.time drawing to escape from reality and climbing the.buildings he saw to keep his strength up. When the new.laws passed kyle adopted the.name.punk, freelancing sprayer jobs, that can lead to.problems sibce crews arent into getting money stolen from them.
Extra: In case you've got anything else you wish to add.ll write out a character sheet tomorrow
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