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    1. Tuxedo Fox 9 yrs ago

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@Kidd(Lilah)
Tod seemed to be blocking out most of what Lilah had been saying; his blurry eyes focused solely on the hole in his clothes that his right hand was now preoccupied with touching-as if he couldn't believe his favorite jacket had received even more abuse.

"MinuteMan?"

The sound of the strangers voice made Tod reach up and feel the hardened leather that encased his face-as if to confirm the womens wild accusation that he was indeed a hero. She followed up the apparently surprising possibility with a question of just what he was doing here. The part of him that was still sane thought it rather odd the woman asked so many questions for someone that just shot a stranger-but then again this girl was obviousley crazy, afterall he thought, she had been able to recognize such a low level hero like Minuteman.

"I uh-" He cut off, his rough voice grunting as he fully pulled himself to his feet. Dusting himself off he continued on. "-I was just...Well, I don't exactly know. Its...its been a few rough weeks, ya know?" He finished with a brokenhearted grin as he talked to Lilah like they had just bumped into each other at the laundrymat as opposed to the copious amounts of corpses, blood, and body parts that surrounded them.
@Tuxedo FoxI'll try to get a post up after work


I'm really lookin forward to it man.
*uncorks bottle of wine.* And now we wait.
I've decided to go ahead and make two "master and apprentice" type characters based of the old childrens tale should this get off the ground.

Oh, and bump.
Awesome looking rp guys-love the idea and concept. Would throw my hat in myself but I have never even dared an attempt at a Starwars rp, its a universe to vast for me to adequately do it justice (feel the same way about mass effect)
@Mr Rage@The Kraken@Amelian Draco@Kidd

Hey guys, just wanted to let you all know I'm happy to see the talkin in ooc/skype/pms. Lets keep up the trend talking to one another-thats the biggest advantage to havein a small group like this, we can colab/talk over small details along the way plus really get to know one anothers characters. So yeah guys, just feel free to throw up here whatevers on your mind rpwise in here-lookin forward to readin everyones posts.

I think as far as the rp itself goes I will occasionally be steering characters/plot like I did in one of my recent posts-If anyone has a huge problem with this please feel free to say something-promise no one will jump down your throat or anything. I have honestly never rp'd with that "heavy of a hand" as gm, but a recent rp I was involved in that not only seemed to work rather well but in my opinion was somewhat funner-just something I wanted to try my hand at.

@Kidd(Lilah)
For the past few weeks Tod had found himself following a peculiar pattern-having been stuck inside his own mental prison he would spend each day wandering the halls of Childrens Mercy Hospital looting and scavenging the vast number of fresh corpses from whatever zombie assault had occured the night before. Like moths to a flame each night the undead horde would come, the mindless killing machines unable to ignore the call that was the large well lit hospital amidst the blackened ruins of the city. Each night they would come, and each night he would fight them until there were none left. At this point he genuinely couldn't believe he was alive; it was some sort of sick cosmic joke-the hero that could only save himself.

So, much like every other day, he had been wandering the halls of the gore covered hospital high as a kite off a handful of some unknown pills-whatever they were they sure made him feel loopy and, more importantly, slightly forget the events of the outbreak.

Needless to say he was slightly caught off guard as a solid shotgun slug tore through the thick fabric of his crusty brown leather jacket and T shirt-the large softball sized hole exposing his muscular arm and shoulder blade beneath. Miraculously the direct hit seemed to leave him completely uninjured for the most part-the only sign of trauma being a large purplish bruise swelling up at the moment. It looked painful, but the honest truth was he had so much adrenaline and drugs coursing through his veins that he merely felt like he'd been flicked in the shoulder blade-a flick that had knocked him off of his feet and onto the dirty corpse strewn ground.

Groaning he drug himself halfway off the ground-his hazy eyes locking with Lilahs from behind his tight dark red leather mask. "Nice shot." He comically quipped in a rather gruff and somewhat delirious voice while turning his gaze to the wound. He had to fight the urge to laugh-here he had been trying to die each night, and then this good Samaritan comes along and shoots him-only he just so happened to have activated his power two minutes prior, leaving him somewhat bulletproof. It looked like Gods sense of humour struck again.
SECONDARY QUEST- A Light in the Darkness
@Ulstermann

"Fuck's sake." Carsons words rang out from up above, ironically summing up exactly how Boss felt. Picking himself up and doing the best to dust off his increasingly dirty body he was rather pleased to see that none of his weapons seemed to banged up from the fall. "Looks like we're splitting up. Just keep heading upwards, that'll get you to the upper deck." Carson reached into his pack and withdrew two small torches. Attaching one to his AK barrel he tossed the other down to Boss who caught the device in an underhanded catch. Looking for a way back up Boss quickly realized Carson was right; the only way out for now was forward.

"Clip that under your shotgun barrel." Carson called oncemore while Boss was in the middle of blinding himself with the torchlight-he hadn't been sure what the thing was but had hit the button nonetheless. "I'm gonna backtrack till I find a way up. Good luck!" With that Carson turned on his heel and jogged off. 

“See ya on the other side.” Boss hollered upwards to Carson who had already disappeared. Fumbling with the torchlight for a second he finally got the blasted thing attached to his shotgun. As he made his way deeper into the groaning metal hull he decided it best to leave his light off for now-he was well aware just how much the element of surprise could play into a firefight; especially at close quarters such as this.

For the most part the lower decks found himself traversing were almost abandoned-a fact not surprising, Boss thought, considering all the water he was having to wade his way through.

After what seemed like an eternity of wandering in the darkened leaky ship Boss found himself in what looked like a giant kitchen of sorts-industrial sized stoves and ovens clinging to one side of the room while a vast amount of counter tops took up the remainder of free space, pots and pans of varying size still hanging from the ceiling and cluttering the floor no doubt from the wreck.

He stopped in his tracks as he heard a heavily accented voice singing from the opposite end of the kitchen; the nasally sing songy voice accompanied by the familiar sound of siring meat.

“Les poissons, les poissons
How I love les poissons
Love to chop and to serve little fish
First I cut off their heads
Then I pull out their bones
Ah mais oui, ca c'est toujours délice”

The voice echoed around the room in broken English just as Boss caught sight of the man singing; a particularly large flash of flame momentarily illuminating the figure of a rather portly looking man clad in a dirty chefs apron-the site of a bulging gas tank on his back and sword at his side immediately making Boss cuss beneath his breathe. Hopefully he could catch the man off guard and send him to hell with one well placed shot to that gas tank strapped to his back.

Creeping his way up alongside the countertops that made up the middle of the room Boss edged himself as closely as he felt comfortably could. Peeking up just over the counter he used the long chipped and battered tabletop to steady his shotgun on the unaware cook. He was moments away from squeezing the trigger when a deep, guttural voice rang out from the adjacent room past the cook.

“Wheres Food, Cookie?”

The owner of the voice quickly emerged into the room-the massive figure of what Boss quickly recognized as a Supermutant literally having to hunch his power armor encased body through the doorway. He clutched a minigun loosely in his right hand as if the massive weapon weighed no more then a few pounds.

“Combien de fois dois-je vous dire?! Vous ne pouvez pas précipiter mes créations!! Dois-je vous tracas sur la façon dont vous ramassez et le pillage!?” The chef like figure roared in outrage at the intrusion in his kitchen while angrily flipping the contents of his current cooking pan. (Translation: “How many times must I tell you?! You cannot rush my creations!! Do I hassle you over how you loot and pillage!?”)

Boss quickly decieded it was best to try his luck-perhaps if things worked just right not only could he kill the cook (Cookie?) but he could take out the armor clad mutant as well. Without hesitating any further he squeezed the trigger-one solid slug booming to life as it struck home square in Cookies gas tank. An odd pwang sound filled the air mere milliseconds before Cookie erupted into an explosion of fire and smoke-the sudden display completely lighting up the ill lit kitchen and no doubt burning the cooks last meal.

For a second Boss had thought his plan had worked rather well-the only remnants he could make out of the portly cook clinging to the cieling in a sickening pile. But then out of the smoke emerged the Supermutant, his salvaged powerarmor whizzing him over to the blackened sickly remains of Cookie.

”Cookie?!” He shouted to a man who was no longer there, his beedy black eyes focused in a look of both pain and anguish as he clearly tried to make since of what had just happend-thats when Boss shot again, the solid round richocheting off a large scrap made pauldron on the mutants shoulder.

Roaring in anger he turned the minigun on Boss, the large weapon humming to life began turning the countertops Boss hid behind into swiss cheese-bullets tearing with ease through the old tabletop.

Moments away from becoming a bullet riddled corpse Boss knew he had to act-so as he often did he threw caution to the wind ; breaking from cover he began to run up the side of cabinets his atacker wasn't shooting at-although the minute he broke from cover the armor enhanced mutant turned the minigun on Boss with surprising speed. Boss braced himself for the impact of bullets as the minigun continued to hum its deadly song.

And then an explosion from somewhere up above rocked the already fragile hull, the shock of the unseen blast rocking the minigun toting mutant off balance for the few precious moments Boss needed to survive as he closed the gap.

Gaining his balance as quickly as he could the large mutant, known as Man-at-Arms to his cohorts, did his best to bring his gun up again and blast away the quickly approaching Boss. The barrels of his gun had just begun to whirl to life as Boss closed the distance-the madmans shotgun roaring to life yet again, this time however his solid slug had been aimed at the Mutants weapon. The shotgun slug did its intended job-the minigun making a rather awkward and painful sounding Kar-krunch as it failed to spin in place.

Defenseless but not out of the fight yet Man-at-arms gave one more defiant roar as he grabbed at Boss like some kind of angry child-only to reel back horrified as Boss blew four of his fingers off. Relentlessly he pumped the shotgun again and fired, taking advantage of Man-At-Arms momentary hesitation. He didn't quit firing until he was met with the dull and empty click that signified he no longer had any shells in his gun-and even then he wished he still had some rounds to put into the still slightly twitching pile of metal and flesh that was now Man-At-Arms.

Instead he withdrew his .45 while slinging his shotgun over his shoulder, dashing his way over the still bleeding mutant he made his way out of the kitchen and into the winding hallways of the ship-eventually finding one completely intact ladder the led topside much to his relief.

Holstering his pistol he hoisted himself up onto the ladder; gritting his teeth he pushed the thoughts aside that he was pretty much doing this all for a stranger as he made his way up the ladder. Reaching what he assumed was a hatchway on the ceiling he crossed his fingers hoping it would lead topside. Luckily he was met with sunlight as he hefted the heavy door open, pulling himself above deck he was somewhat relieved to see Carson wearing a face that mirrored his same weery expression.
@The Kraken
lol I'm lookin forward to it. Been worried I scared everyone off all day long with the weird way I was GMing.
So I totally have my eye on this now-huge Fables fan. I own and have read em all except the last arc. Feel free to shoot me a pm if you wana talk/just have someone listen to your ideas.
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