Tiberius67

In From The Fog: A Fallout Far Harbor Roleplay

Steve Miller - Crashed Vertibird

Moving as quietly as he could, Steve maneuvered around the crash site until he found a rock to get behind that gave him a good view of the downed aircraft and the Cultist leader....who James had assigned him as his first target. He dropped and got down prone behind the rock, then took careful aim, and waited, thinking of the discussion they had had moments ago.

The hurt look in Corrine's eyes when he had backed James over her bothered him, but he didn't see any other way around it. Steve understood she was reluctant to fight what she considered her own people, but he felt that was clouding her judgement...from what he had been told while in town the Cultists had made it clear that it was 'their way or the highway', as Dad had liked to put it. Either join their little group, or leave...or be driven into the sea. If they had given up, then the choices would have narrowed to join or die...and even if they pretended to go along, the odds of being able to get free in time to help the town were basically nonexistent. Nope, when they chose to proceed after that "angler" nearly killed the Enclaver, they had committed to fighting if need be to get that equipment....and as it turned out if they hadn't, they'd have been doomed and not even know it until it was too late. With the suits in that Vertibird....there would have been no stopping them when they came to town. As bad as the odds were now, even if they did prevail here, it was better than no chance at all. All he could hope was that Corrine eventually saw they had made the right call.

The Enclaver took his shot, and the battle began. The Cultist leader jerked and whirled to her right in response to the thwack of a bullet hitting home, Steve adjusted his aim slightly and fired, the round punching a hole in the leader's mask just above the right eye and gore exploded out of the back of her head as the bullet passed through, and the cultist immediately began to crumple to the ground.

One down, three to go, Steve thought grimly as he worked the slide of his rifle and looked to the Vertibird for his next target, trusting Castner to have dealt with the pet of hers. The Enclaver called out some nonsense being from the Government, predictably the Cultists replied with angry shouts of "Murderer!" and began to return fire. Seeing Corrine engaging one of the cultists with her spear, he looked for a target that would not place her in his line of fire. Settling on a Cultist that popped out of the Vertibird wielding a odd looking rifle, which he fired in the direction of the Enclaver. Steve lined up a shot, and just as he pulled the trigger, he heard a angry sounding growl from atop the rock he was using for cover, then a weight fell suddenly on his back. Too distracted to note if he scored a hit or not, Steve rolled to his right onto his back, throwing whatever it was off. He then looked over to see his assailant, it was that creature the now dead leader had as a pet...Castner had failed to kill it, it would seem...and it looked quite pissed. It scrambled to it's feet and lunged at him with a snarl. He tried to club it with the butt of his rifle, but the infernal creature dodged his desperate attempt and sank it's teeth into his left arm, shaking it's head for good measure. Steve bared his teeth in anger and pain, and instinctively let go of the rifle with his free right hand, and drew his revolver, pushing the muzzle of the revolver forward until it was placed directly against the creature's chest.

"Fuck you!", Steve hissed as he pulled the trigger. "FUCK. YOU!" he repeated angrily as he released the trigger of the revolver and promptly pulled it again, firing a second shot into the creature. If the first two shots didn't do the job, he had four more.......

War Never Changes

Simon Barnaky - The Gourmand

After finishing his sentence, Barnaky, or to be more precise, the robot he was speaking through, suddenly froze in place. After about a minute, Marin leaned towards the robot.

"My Lord", Martin whispered, "is something wrong?"

Another minute then passed, then the robot finally began to move again, looking over at Martin.

"Kimball is dead", Barnaky whispered back so only Martin could hear. "Lucius lured him into a ambush outside Phoenix and wiped out his whole force. The recovery group at Monthan-Davis got a drone out there and confirmed a large NCR force was massacred. Also, Graham has gassed the NCR again...this time they hit one of their main camps" Barnaky then grabbed a notepad and wrote out a note, then handed it over to Martin. "Give this to Titus...I'm sure Lucius would want him to be the one to make the announcement."

Martin unfolded the note and read it:

NCR incursion force ambushed outside Phoenix by Legions of Caesar Lucius and Legatus Aurelius. All killed or captured. Kimball is dead. Relay news to convention.
PS - this message was received by courier at one of our listening posts in Arizona about three hours ago. the message bore the seal of Legate Aurelius and has been confirmed authentic. Drone reconnaissance has confirmed a battle took place approximately fifteen miles southwest of Phoenix this morning, with heavy losses to NCR armored forces and Legion forces bearing the standards of Legio I Arizona were observed in possession of the field. In addition, a second cloud attack was launched on NCR Camp Delta around the same time, surviving NCR forces there have withdrawn Westward. -Barnaky

Martin folded the note back up, got up and approached Titus.

"Queastor", Martin said quietly as he handed the note to the younger man, "The Lord-Paladin sends his regards, and requested that I bring you this message. It is a message received from your front lines in Arizona. He feels the honor of delivering it to the convention is, by right, yours."

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

Mary Hawthorne - Museum of Witchcraft basement

In response to her call out to Shelby, he heard some rapid movement, as if she intended to try to flee, but after a moment Shelby stepped out into view, flipping her hair over her shoulders and trying to put a brave face fowards....though the fear, and something else, in her eyes, told the tale.

“That was… interesting ,” Shelby said, her voice was still riddled with nervousness, she placed her hands in her hips and tried to keep her cocky facade, “So...you mind telling what the fuck just happened here?”

"Don't play the innocent with me...", Mary said with a predatory smile as she held up the jar for Shelby to see, "...You know what you saw. The questions you should be asking are why I did it, and by what means did I achieve it."

"So tell me, was it everything you thought it would be?", Mary chuckled and continued, "Somehow I doubt it. No one who plays this game for Fame and glory will last for very long....certainly not the six hundered years I have been walking this Earth. In my world, power comes from knowledge, and bargains in which unspeakable acts...like what you watched him do to me...and even immortal souls are used as currency."

Mary picked up her things and stuffed them into her bag, then walked around the astonished Shelby and made for the cellar door without undue haste. She paused at the foot of the stairs and looked back at Shelby.

"I'm going home and taking a good hot bath", Mary announced, "I'm absolutely filthy." She then pointed at the ceiling and continued. "feel free to stop by once my houseguest leaves....poor lad has no idea what I am and I intend to keep it that way. I won't be coming back here again, so feel free to take what you want. Whatever you do, though...don't go upstairs, a Deathclaw has it's nest up there." she then climbed up and opened the door, moonlight flooding down from the open doorway, Mary's head silhouetted in the frame.

"One last thing", Mary whispered, though Shelby could hear it clearly, "I'm going to trust you with my little secret...consider it a test of character." Mary then placed the key to the cellar on the top step and closed the cellar door behind her.

Mary's Bathroom - Dawn

Mary sat in the tub, sipping bourbon from a waterglass and glowering at the mason jar full of ashes sitting on the stool by the window. First thing she'd done when she got home was brush her teeth with bourbon, which led to drinking some....it had been a long night. She sat, and drank, and fumed quietly as she reflected on the night's events. She'd done things that were arguably far more perverse than what the cultist...she had never even bothered to learn his name...had bargained out of her for what he knew, but submitting to the indignites he had heaped on her were still irksome..espcicially because others had witnessed most, if not all of it. The Museum was useless to her now, that was clear, she now had to find a new place to conduct business that she could not safely do in town. But the real thing on her mind was Shelby. Letting her live after what she had seen was a considerable risk, but Mary felt it was a risk worth taking. Her instincts told her that the young woman might have a talent for her craft, and it would be nice to have an apprentice again. Not to mention those fools at the Quarry, and what they planned to do. She had some research to do, and she would need help with it....and Shelby could at least read, which was good for this new Dark Age she had found herself in. She had too much potential to kill out of hand...if she talked they wouldn't believe her anyway. At least not quickly enough for her to evade capture easily enough.

Faintly, she heard the noise of an aircraft through the open window, steadily getting louder. Eventually, it came over the town, the noise rising to a roar which persisted for several minutes before beginning to slowly fade away. While this was happening, Mary heard a commotion in the hallway as Rick stormed out of his room and ran downstairs, the from door slamming shut a few seconds later. The flying machine seemed to upset him for some reason, and caused her to think about some of the things he had said at lunch....he had obviously been hiding something from her. The only people she knew of with aircraft in the Commonwealth were the Minutemen and the Brotherhood, both of whom fancied themselves the authorities here...was he a fugitive, perhaps? Might be useful to know.

In From The Fog: A Fallout Far Harbor Roleplay

Steve Miller - near the crashed Vertibird

"Who do ya think yer talkin' to?", Corrine hissed at the Enclaver, "Because I ain't actually shot a gun before and last I checked, ammo was limited." She looked between Castner, James, then Steve and then continued. "They think the Brotherhood were scoutin' the place out, and are lookin' for survivors to take back to their base. The Nucleus. That means they've done something with...or, to...the Children of Atom." Corrine shook her head, sadly. "We can pose as Brotherhood, all of us, and just let ourselves be captured, get into the heart of the cult and find some way to...you know...make it explode. It's a pre-war nuclear sub. We'd save the town, at least." She swallowed. "Not sure we stay alive for many more hours, otherwise, considering our condition and their numbers."

After considering what both the Enclaver and Corrine had to say, James finally spoke.

“For once I agree with the Enclaver", he said. "We need those supplies. We could attempt to infiltrate the nucleus another night, but they’re going to blow up what we need right now if we don’t do something.”, he whispered urgently. He turned to the Enclaver. “I don’t think we need to you to do that James. We have enough of an advantage by catching them from surprise at multiple angles.”, he looked to Corrine next, though he addressed all of them. “I think we can take them if we have Steve and I fire our powerful guns against the leader and the gulper. Those two can either rally the troops, or sniff us out with their… enhanced abilities.”

"I agree with James", Steve whispered, as he flipped the switch to turn the tracker off before the cultists heard it and put it in his pocket. "Even if we bring back the supplies, and drive them back tomorrow, there are no guarantees we'll survive the attack after that. Or the next one. Or the one after that. But if we don't succeed here and now, they will roll over the town for certain tomorrow. At some point we just may have to take a hit for the Team as you suggest, Corrine, but the town has no future beyond tomorrow if we don't get the equipment on that Vertibird back to town. Also, I thought I heard it said back in town that at least some of these people are locals...in which case they would know who you are." He shook his head. "Even being caught at night out here with members of the Brotherhood might be enough to make them decide that you've chosen a side....to them the wrong side....and who knows what would happen to you then. It's just too big a risk to take."

Steve then looked over at Castner. "there is something about this "Nucleus" that you should know..", Steve continued, "...from the markings on some of Corrine's tools I think the sub docked there is a missile sub, which means it might still have nukes on onboard....the big city killing kind. Something will eventually have to be done about that." He then added. "If we're gonna fight them here, you're best suited to lead us. What do you need us to do?"

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

Mary Hawthorne - Museum of Witchcraft basement - early morning

The Cultist groaned as he yielded to Mary's skilled ministrations and finished. After a moment, his grip on Mary's shoulders relaxed and she looked up at him.

"Satisfied?", she asked.

"I'm done", he said, nodding reluctantly. He then winced in pain as his stomach began to growl again. "You held up your end of the bargain, I'll grant you that. Now get it over with."

Mary gently pushed him back, off the wet area of the floor where they were onto a dry section, and then got up off her knees and stood facing him, and recited the reverse of the spell she had used earlier.

OGTHROD AI'F
GEB'L—EE'H
YOG-SOTHOTH
'NGAH'NG AI'Y
ZHRO

As she recited the spell, the cultist froze, his features contorted with fear and pain, as a terrible change came over him and he literally crumbled into dust where he stood. By the time she uttered the final word of the incantation, a pile of ashes sat where a man had stood moments before. Mary sighed, then moved around the pile, picking up a battered old dustpan and broken broom sitting in a corner, along with the mason jar, and returned to the pile and knelt next to it, and carefully began to sweep it up, emptying it into the jar. Once satisfied she had collected everything, she picked up the lid and began to screw it into place.

"You can come out now, Shelby", Mary said as casually as if she were ordering dinner, screwing the lid down securely and patting the lit for emphasis, "I know you've been watching."

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

Mary Hawthorne - S&W Weaponry - the previous evening

“The essential Saltes of Animals may be so prepared and preserved, that an ingenious Man may have the whole Ark of Noah in his own Studie, and raise the fine Shape of an Animal out of its Ashes at his Pleasure; and by the lyke Method from the essential Saltes of humane Dust, a Philosopher may, without any criminal Necromancy, call up the Shape of any dead Ancestour from the Dust whereinto his Bodie has been incinerated.” -BORELLUS

“Makes sense I guess", Shelby said, tapping her lips in thought, "As far as whom Frieda is, I’m not sure, especially if she was involved with the mutie incident. I don’t like muties so I split and came back here. Maybe if I ever come across one of those spell books, can’t remember what exactly they were called, but maybe if I took my time and really studied I can find out if the stuff works.” Shelby looked over at Eliza sleeping, the sun had long since gone away for the night, she took a deep breath. “I can walk you home if you’d like? It’s been one hell of a day, I need some fresh air.”

"Sure", Mary replied, "That would be nice of you."

Later

"Thanks for helping me with the saddle", Mary said as she closed the pen, then reached out for the saddle, which Shelby was holding up with both hands. "I'll haul it inside....Good night!"

Shelby handed the saddle to Mary and after saying her goodbyes turned to walk away in the direction of the Diner. Mary walked up onto the porch and awkwardly opened the front door, and carried the saddle inside, putting it and the bridle on the sawhorse in the middle of the largely empty living room. She noticed the robots were no longer connected to the device Rick had attached to them to power them up.

"Hmmmm", she said quietly to herself as she scrutinized the dormant robots, "I need to ask Rick how to make you mind me before I wake you up, I think."

She went up to the second floor, and noticed the door to one of the spare bedrooms....the only one with furniture besides hers...was closed. No light could be seen from within, so she quietly opened the door a crack and peered inside, the moonlight revealing Rick's sleeping form on the bed. Just as quietly, she closed the door and went to her bedroom. Lighting a lamp, she then rummaged through her bags, producing several items including Wastelander garb with trousers, a pair of handcuffs, a stun baton, a large mason jar, a old military style flashlight, and ancient leatherbound notebook, and a sheathed machete. She then stripped nude, pulling her panties down and kicking them onto the floor, and then put on the Wastelander outfit. The machete was strapped to her back, the rest of the items went into a haversack. She then left and quietly descended the stairs. After retrieving some wrapped packages and a bottle of purified water from the refrigerator, she went into the living room and opened the front door a crack, peering out cautiously to make sure the coast was clear. Finding it was, she slid out and closed and lacked the door behind her. Staying in the darkness, she moved in the direction of the road leading past the Diner and out of town, steering wide of the Diner. Beyond it was the wall she had noticed the..what Shelby had called a mutie?...and some others had been building. It wasn't terribly far from where the old wooden palisades that protected Salem from the Indians so long ago had been raised.

"The more things change", she thought wryly, "the more they stay the same."

But it was still a problem for her purposes, prudent a measure as it was. Beyond the open area where the gate would doubtlessly go, she saw at least two people standing around talking. Sentries by the look of it. She could also hear the ticking of one of those infernal devices Barney called a turret.

"Damnation!", Mary thought, "I can't have them see me dragging a corpse into the Museum! Why on earth did they feel the need to push the walls out so far, anyway? I've got to get by them."

She followed the curse of the wall from the inside. It abruptly terminated in the ocean, no doubt where the deep water began. Mary shrugged, then wriggled out of her clothes and stuffed them in the bag, then slowly waded into the water, taking care to keep the bag above water. The mixture of the coldness of the water on her skin with the warmth of the residual radiation was a novel sensation, in a perverse way, she actually found it pleasurable. Careful not to make any undue noise, she slowly waded parallel to the shoreline, shoulder deep in the water, balancing the bag on her head. Eventually, she passed out of the line of sight of the sentries, who largely weren't looking out to sea anyway, and quietly made her way to shore. She decided at this point there was no reason to dress again, though she reequipped the machete and began moving towards the museum but was forced into cover when a seedy looking merc and a ghoul emerged onto the road from the direction of the Crater, then began walking nonchalantly back towards Salem. Once they were a safe distance past, she moved to see where they went and saw that they strolled past the sentries, who took little notice of them, and into town.

Now that she was finally alone, she went to the road opposite the Museum and approached the site where the cultists had tried to ambush Rick and her. Someone had looted the bodies, and a third one had been hung up by his heels from a tree nearby, but the bodies were otherwise undisturbed. She threw the cultist she had killed over her shoulder, and carried the corpse around the far side of the Museum, unlocking and quietly opening the door to the storm cellar and carrying the body inside, then reaching up to quietly close it behind her.


Museum of Witchcraft basement - not long after

She would have preferred to do this upstairs, so she could use the mock cell for the exhibits, but there was a chance someone might hear....but this spot would do well enough. Mary carefully poured the ashes in the mason jar on the floor next to the old steam register, careful not to scatter them, then slowly moved back, placing the empty jar on a old bookshelf beyond the line of candles she relied on for light, then turned to face the pile of ashes on the floor and reflected on what she was about to do. In her youth she had, like nearly everyone else in Salem Town, had feared and shunned Joseph Curwen once he reappeared in Salem in 1687, having run off to be a sailor nine years before....put off by his strange and reclusive behavior and obsession with strange books...it was still a wonder he hadn't been caught up in the Trials five years later. When she met him again, nearly eighty years later in Providence, she learned just how right people had been to fear him. Flush with his success, after so many years, at finding the right method, he had been desperate for some one to tell of his triumph, and as Mary was willing to be an appreciative listener as well as an accommodating bed partner, over the course of a year she learned much from him. He and his compatriots were long dead, overconfidence on Curwen's part gaining the deadly attention of hunters, so far as she knew she was the only soul still living familiar with their methods. While she had known those methods, never in the centuries since had she felt need to use them, until now.

She picked up the stun baton and handcuffs from on top of the open notebook on the stool next to her, took a deep breath, and began the incantation.

Y'AI 'NG'NGAH,
YOG-SOTHOTH
H'EE—L'GEB
F'AI THRODOG
UAAAH

No sooner did she utter the words than a cold wind blow through the stagnant and dusty air of the basement, and a foul smelling, greenish smoke began to billow up out of the pile of ashes. Mary had forgotten the smell....it was probably fortunate that she had not bothered to put her clothes back on. Her nakedness might prove of advantage when it came to what she was calling up anyhow. She quickly moved forward, and as a groan emerged from the smoke, followed by coughing, she thrust the stun baton into the heat of the smoke cloud and triggered the charge, yielding resistance and a pained yelp showing she had aimed true. The smoke dissipated to reveal a nude and hairless man, curled up into a fetal position and still twitching from the electric shock from the baton. Knowing she had only a few seconds to act, she cast the baton aside, out of her victim's reach, and overcame his feeble attempts at resistance to affix the handcuffs and cuff him securely to the old cast-iron register, then stepped back out of his reach as he gathered enough of his wits to try to kick her, a terrible look of triumph on her face.

The man strained hard, but in vain at the cuffs holding him securely to the cast-iron fixture, then looked around the room desperately, then finally focused on his captor, his expression a mixture of hatred and fear as he recalled the last thing he had seen before the darkness he just emerged from enveloped him, the woman before him shooting him in the head.

"You killed me, you bitch", he hissed, pulling in vain against his binds again, "I couldn't have survived what you did to me."

"You didn't", Mary replied evenly, "I would have demonstrated my true ability when we last met, but virgin eyes and ears forced me to use more....mundane methods to deal with you. So I had to bring you back."

"You're no common Wastelander...that much is clear", the man said grudgingly, "So let's cut the bullshit...what do you want?"

She walked up and knelt next to him, the calf of her right leg up against his left, and smiled in a predatory manner.

"I have some questions", she said simply, "and I'll do whatever I need to do to have answers to them." She then reached down and took his member in her right hand and gently stroked it, the cultists eyes blazing with hatred as he responded to her touch in spite of himself. "What lengths I need go to is entirely up to you."

"Fuck you", he replied, spitting full into Mary's face, "You'll kill me anyway."

"Of course I will", Mary replied as she calmly scooped up the glob of spittle from her face and idly licked it from her fingers, all the while continuing what she was doing with her right hand, as the spell wouldn't work if she let his actions distract her and stop talking too soon, "It's not personal...I certainly cannot let you go after what you've seen, only a fool would do that. I can promise, however, that if you cooperate, I'll make it quick...and see to it you're not brought back again by me or anyone else. I'll even do what you want as a final request, as long as what you would have me do won't injure me...much." She then added "no kissing though."

The man grew oddly calm, and finally listened as she continued to speak, the charm spell taking hold without him even realizing it. Finally, he opened his mouth to speak, but then a horrid growl emanated from his stomach, causing him to wince with pain.

"Hungry, so hungry!", he said pleadingly, "For fucks sake, it hurts!"

"Oh yes", Mary replied, "I almost forgot about the hunger."

She let go of the cultist and rose to her feet, and retreated to the next room where her bag was. She extracted the wrapped packages, gathered them up and went back to the man, crouching beside him again in the same fashion she did before, and let the packages fall to the floor next to him. She picked up one and opened it, revealing cuts of venison, or "Rad-Stag" meat as they called it now.

"Here", she said as she leaned forward, drawing close to the man as she help up a strip of raw venison within reach of his head so he could easily reach it, and in a gentle manner fed the contents of the package to him one strip at a time. Once the package was empty, he leaned his head back against the wall and sighed with relief.

"This isn't going to stop..", he finally said, his voice heavy with defeat, "...is it?"

"No", Mary replied, not without compassion, "not in the amount of time left to you." She glanced down at the remaining packages of meat and back to him. "I warrant I have enough here to last a couple hours before I have to go find more. And what you'll feel awaiting my return will likely be more painful than anything I could do on purpose."

"Fuck it", he said bleakly, "You win. I'll take your 'deal'. I'll tell you what you want to know as long as you put me down fast and let me stay down...forever."

"Very well", she replied, "and your last request?"

"Draw a little closer", he said, parodying some old song "and let me whisper in your ear". Mary humored him by drawing so close she was now pressed against him and let him whisper into her ear what he wanted to do to her, her eyes widening a bit as he outlined his proposal....it was shockingly perverse but she had to admit that it was somewhat original, not to mention something she hadn't done before. For the most part. And in that combination. Or even with the same man. It was not what she had expected, but the charm was subtle and the exact results couldn't be predicted...and in any case she had done things that were far worse to get what she wanted. Once he was finished whispering, she moved her head back slightly and looked him in the eye. "believe me....I wouldn't want to kiss you after that", he added with a resigned chuckle.

"You're a sick bastard, you are", Mary replied with a shrug and a small laugh, "but my word is my bond. It's something I can do without undue injury, so I will do as you ask."

"Before I start with my questions", she continued, "Would you like something to drink?"

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

Mary Hawthorne - S&W Weaponry

"Yeah, I like to read about it, but after my last endeavor,” she paused and swallowed hard, “I don’t even know what to say about Calypso and her Jade Emperor."

"This Calypso", Mary asked, "Was she trying to convince you she knew magic?

"I believed in her and her beliefs for years", Shelby continued, "it slowly unraveled and I had my doubts. Ended up being a load of sh…crap.” Shelby sat back down and propped her feet up, “I have a real hard time believing in anything magical, good, bad or whatever. The idea of witchcraft entices me though, and I do enjoy imagining it was real and all.”

"It's not as glamorous as they make it out to be in books, and old movies and TV shows", Mary replied, "Ever notice that Museum at the edge of town? I found a pamphlet about it in my house, it talks about how the museum was about the women who were killed here hundreds of years ago because folks thought they were witches." Mary scoffed, "You'd think those fools would have realized if they had caught a real witch the odds of getting a halter around her neck were slim indeed."

Waylon popped in “Hey, I’m going to go help Frieda with watch tonight.”

Shelby was sitting in a chair with her feet propped up, “Frieda? Whatever, have fun, I’m sure your watch the town,” she rolled her eyes.

“Brat,” Waylon turned and headed back out as Shelby shook her head.

"Frieda?", Mary asked, "She is that woman who was shooting at the green man this morning, yes?"

Shelby looked at Eliza resting and got up and sat closer to Mary, “Do you believe in that stuff? I wish that it was real and that I knew how to...um…do the spells and such.” She hiked her thumb towards Eliza, “I would heal her up as quickly as I could. I’m a blade smith, and I’ve read fantasy books about enchantments and such, that would be pretty neat to enchant my blades. But, I just like to learn, and the stuff that attracts me is mostly considered dark.”

"If magic really exists", Mary said, "Gaining such power wouldn't be easy....it would at least as much dedication and practice as it took for you to learn to make quality blades...and in the end by learning it you'd only be replacing your everyday concerns for bigger and more dangerous ones. And you'd have to hide your power because folks would see you as a threat if they knew...because such power is never free, somebody had to pay the price for it and they know that it's likely to have been someone like them. And when people see something or someone as a real threat they band together and end that threat. We and the Chinamen saw each other as a threat, and look around you to see how that ended up." She then added, "At least, that is my take on it. If magic were real...and easy to do...it would be everywhere. So, it stands to reason that it's either not real....or those who do know it are in hiding."

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

Mary Hawthorne - S&W Weaponry

“Where are you from Mary?", Shelby asked, furrowing her brow, "I only ask because I've only ever seen horses out west. I mean, that's not to say they aren't anywhere else, just curious.”

"Mary, you damned fool!", Mary thought bitterly to herself, "Did ye think these people dullards? That they wouldn't ask such a simple and obvious question? Fool! Idiot! Do ye want to end up like Joseph Curwen and his friends..slain by hunters?"

Mary's mind raced for a place that would be plausible. Shelby's accent was Northern for sure...so somewhere south. A place popped to mind...she had gone there on vacation before the war.

"Missouri", Mary replied, "But I haven't been there since I was young....almost like it was another lifetime. Moved here from Maryland, a place called Point Lookout. No horses in Maryland, though."

Not too far from the truth....

“Well ladies", Waylon said after clearing his throat, "if you'll excuse me I believe there's a beer calling for me over to the diner.”

Shelby flashed him a look, “Whatever...bring back a couple would ya?.

“What else for your order Miss?” Waylon acted like he was scribbling into a order pad, “You still want one of those witchcraft books?”

“Ha ha ha, very funny Waylon,” Shelby flipped him off, “That last book was full of shit, that witch shit is just a bunch of bullshit like Calypso was. Not saying it wouldn't be pretty amazing to actually do stuff like I've read, but that's just a pipe dream.”

He flipped her off back, “I'll be back when I'm back.”

“We'll be waiting with baited breath,” she waved him off, “So...are either of you hungry? Thirsty? I have snacky stuff and some Nuka Colas in the fridge.”

"I ate about an hour ago", Mary replied, "But a Nuka-Cola would be nice." She then added conversationally. "You like to read, Shelby? So do I....you like to read novels about witchcraft?"

In From The Fog: A Fallout Far Harbor Roleplay

Steve Miller - Near the Reservoir

“I can move...", Williams said to Castner, "but it will be alot easier, even crippled to get back to town with the power armour especially if we run into any more fish...whatever the fuck face monster thing that was…Are they usually that big?"

“No knowledge on them, see what Corrine thinks”, Castner replied starkly.

“Do you know what that fish thing was?", Williams asked, "Oh and take this.” He then offered Corrine his rifle, the clear implication being that he couldn't use it in his condition.

"I do know what that was...", Corrine replied sarcastically, "Everyone back in town knows what that was. We all tried warnin' ya about them back in the Plank, this mornin' but you weren't interested, then." She looked at the rifle Williams was holding out and nodded at it, a smirk on her face. "Ya sure ya don't wanna point that thing at me, like before?" Corrine pushed the rifle back at James. "Keep it."

"Point it at her....again?", Steve thought. He didn't like the sound of that....now wasn't the time or place, but he would talk to her about that once they got back to the Docks.

“I’ll take point again", Castner cut in most likely to prevent things from escalating, "I didn’t take too hard of a hit.”, Castner stated before turning around. “The vertibird is close. We should try to sneak the rest of the way to avoid anymore encounters. Plus there’s probably some creatures near the wreck attracted by the explosion and fire. We could get the drop on them.”

“I agree with the sneaking but outside of close quarters I’m probably gonna am next to useless in a sneak attack and I’d rather not risk getting clawed by Mr. Fish head again.”

"Anglers tend to stay close to water, seems unlikely we'd encounter another one. Gulpers, though, or shamblers...radstags..." She trailed off, then pulled Steve closer to herself. "Somethin' weren't right about that angler. They can be big, to be sure, but its size ain't what worries me. I ain't never had one live through my spear rippin' into its neck -- its skin was thicker than usual." She reached up and rubbed the back of her head. "Somethin' weren't right," she muttered again.

"That wasn't all", Steve replied quietly, as he wiped away the blood on her forehead with a clean rag to get a better look at her injury. Fortunately it didn't appear serious. Steve hoped there was a first aid kit on the Vertibird. He then added, "it pulled out that spear and then threw it at you...furtunately it's aim was bad, but that's something I've never seen an animal do before, have you?."

Steve then pulled the tracker out of his bag, and used it to locate the correct direction.

"Let's get to the Vertibird and collect what we came for", Steve said to Corrine, "the sooner we get this over with the better".

War Never Changes

Simon Barnaky - At the conference

As Barnaky gave his speech, using the wide angle lenses of the robot's optics, he examined the delegate's faces for clues on how they were taking his speech. Queastor Titus was elated, as he was right to be, he would no doubt waste no time advising Lucius that the Brotherhood had openly declared his support for the Legion in this matter. Young Miss Tenpenny, however, went from glee at his announcement of the Campaign against the Cult to being clearly disgusted and enraged by the revelation of his support for the Legion.

"Hmm", Barnaky thought, "It seems the Texans didn't tell her about what happened in Mexico this morning. Interesting."

“Oh…poor Legion…poor little victims", she said, using sarcasm to disguise her anger, "I know the representative of Texas wished to have the member nations of the soon to be Co-Prosperity Sphere discuss our response in unison and how we should proceed…however, I’ll like to make our position known.”

"Soon to be Co-Prosperity Sphere?", Barnaky asked himself. "Joseph told me that the Texans were up to something involving their neighbors, but what Miss Tenpenny was suggesting is that a full blown alliance existed....the question is, who is it aimed at?"

Barnaky decided he would need to reach out to Robert and also have Joseph get in contact with Vulpes to see what the Legion knew about this. It was also clear now that he would need to sound out Vault 99, and keep his options open with them. They were too wedded to the Old World for his liking, but if the Southern and Eastern factions were allying against him....

“IT WILL BE A COLD DARK DAY IN HELL", Tenpenny barked as she pounded the table angrily, "BEFORE WE SIDE WITH THESE HEATHENS AND SLAVERS! TO US YOU’RE NO BETTER THAN THE CULT!” She plopped back down on her chair, and moved strand of her red hair to the side, and coolly replied “I vote no.”

"The Legion is two thousand miles from your borders, Governor", Barnaky replied diplomatically. "They will never be a threat to you...but that can't be said for the Cult, can it? They are right on your doorstep, and given that they nearly destroyed the East Coast Chapter of the Brotherhood, and were only stopped from overrunning the whole Atlantic Coast from the Capital Wasteland North by the Children of Atom, who were obliged to resort to the use of tactical nuclear weapons to drive them back....you need all the friends you can get right now. What was the old saying? 'Never look a gift horse in the mouth?'"

Titus then took the floor again, and gave a measured speech that pointed out that Caesar Lucius had committed to a program of reform to address the excesses of Sallow's Regime and put his Kingdom on the path towards being a responsible Nation-State, and asking for time to bring the ambitious program to fruition He also mentioned that Caesar was sending a delegation East to see things for themselves. Barnaky knew this to be true, they were currently on a train in Western Kansas, disruptions from the timetable changes dictated by the plans to reinforce the Legion had delayed their progress somewhat.

"I can attest to the veracity of Queastor Titus", Barnaky said after Titus had taken his seat, "My state of existence has enabled me to take a long view of things...something Governor Harris and I have in common, I think...and I have observed the Legion almost since Edward Sallow created it, nearly thirty years ago, as well as conduct affairs of State with both him and Caesar Lucius. We have found the accession of Caesar Lucius to be a most welcome development, and Queastor Titus's declarations are fully consistent with both my observations of how the Legion is being governed, as well as my personal experience with Lucius and his senior officials."

The delegate from Alaska then took the floor, and while his remarks were critical of the NCR, he made it clear that his people had no intention of taking a side in the current dispute between the Legion and NCR, and cast doubt on whether they could effectively do so even if they wanted to. He then indicated that they knew little of the Cult and would require more information before they could decide on whether action against them was appropriate.

"I would be happy to assist you...or any other faction represented here, even the NCR...in your inquiries", Barnaky said. "If any nation wishes to send a delegation for a fact-finding tour, or to observe our operations against the Cult, that can be arranged through diplomatic channels, for those who have formal diplomatic relations with us, or through our Embassy here in New Vegas if you do not."

Omaha - SAC Command Bunker @Kouropalates

The Duty Officer in the Communications Center started as the teletype machine along the wall behind his desk suddenly clattered into life. A teletype machine only used by one individual. It spat out a short message then stopped, and he tore the message off the roll and looked at it. It was short and to the point.

******MESSAGE BEGINS*****

COMMENCE INTRUDE N313. ZERO HOUR TO BE 1700 PDT TOMORROW. PROCEED UNLESS RECALLED. -BARNAKY

******MESSAGE ENDS******

The remainder of the message was delivery instructions...the coordinates for a tight beam broadcast and a frequency to use. The Duty Officer gave the orders for the procedure to instruct the comsat orbiting the West coast to align it's antenna to begin, then placed the message on the desk and retrieved a book from the safe and looked through it until he found the reference for "INTRUDE N313". It corresponded to an Operation called "Shadow Raid", and gave the cipher to use to encrypt it. The order from the Lord Paladin was carried out promptly and the message went out to it's intended receipient.

"Shadow Raid", the Duty Officer mused to himself as he dropped the teleprinter sheet into the shredder, "wonder what this one is about?"