The Capital Wasteland - Fallout Roleplay

[Mikoyan]

love u too bb

sry

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[RandomPhail]

Name: Jared Skyse
Faction: Wanderer
Gear: Wasteland Wanderer Outfit
Inventory: Sniper, Riot Shotgun, 77 .308 rounds, 23 12 Gauge rounds, Whiskey (4), Stimpak (6)
Status: Fatigued & injured
Location: A few miles from Fort Banner/Megaton


 Currently: I've been lost for days and my supply of beer is running low, It doesn't even tip me anymore. Even if it did It wouldn't be enough to take away the horrible pain I'm having, physically and mentally. My feet are killing me and I haven't had a descent sleep that wasn't interrupted by thoughts of my wife in weeks.
 Background: Eversince my wife left me for my drinking I've become progresivally worse than before, I stumbled out one night to drown my sorrows in a good drinking binge and passed out. I awoke confused and sunburnt a few days later.
 
 A few days previous: My skin felt leathery and dry and I knew I had a pretty bad sunburn, I sat up lazily and looked left and right but I saw nothing. I squinted and tried to remember what happened before, while registering what's happening now. My bloodshot eyes popped open and I realised I was lost. I got up hastily and looked back. I still saw nothing and at this point my little hungover brain was beginning to panic, everywhere I looked I saw endless wasteland and heatwaves, Dead bushes here and dust devils there. "Aww stuff"! I whined, my voice coming out much more weak and scragally than anticapated. "What the HELL do I do now"!? My voice was already cracking and as I looked up at the heavens praying for some help I heard it's echoe. The DeathClaw, it's sound came from very far away and I began to move towards it.

 Currently: I heard gun fire a while ago and I can now see a smallish group of people at Megaton. I'm overjoyed to see people and I begin to shout and run towards them. "Hey! please if you have any water I need it, help"!

 (sorry I kind of winged it at the end, I wasn't sure everyone's exact location because I got lazy on the reading toward the end, so if there isn't any good group in Megaton then please assume I meant somewhere else lawl).

 

 

 

[Fracture]

That bump came out of nowhere.

[blazerblock2]

Name: Riot Control Officer No. 33021, 'Blackjack'
Faction: Wasteland Legend
Gear(Equipped weapons/Armor): Customized Riot gear, Chinese AR (Mod),  DKS-501, .44 Magnum, 5.56mm round (x75), .38 caliber round (x9), .44 Magnum round (x17), 72 caps, 2 blue star caps.
Status: Injured, hungry, thirsty, low on ammunition.
Location: En Route to the Capital Wasteland
      Pain.  Pain was all I could remember when I woke up.  I was fighting ghouls when it all went black.  Now, I wake up, beneath a campfire under the highway.  Who could have done this?  Why did they do it?  Where are they now?  Should I go?  Questions were the only thing I had.  I slowly rose to my feet, searching for my gear on my back, but my rifles were gone.  I reached down to my holster, hoping to find my Magnum, but nope.  Nada.  Obviously a bandit attack.  I look around once more, examining my location.  It's a small encampment -- about the size of a parking lot.  I knew this because it was a parking lot.  Several disabled and dirty looking cars surrounded the encampment along the fence, as well as some barbed wire, and I think I saw a few landmines here and there, but I couldn't be sure and I didn't want to get close enough to be sure. I begin to take a step toward the other side of the campfire, when a searing pain shoots through my leg. I check it -- it seems to be covered in bloody bandages.  When I look around where I woke up, I see a bloody sleeping bag, with a medkit lying next to it, both empty and full stimpaks litter the ground.  I bend down -- mindful of my injured leg -- and close it, then pick it up.  I slowly limp to the other side of the campfire, hoping to find some kind of evidence of what happened to me.  When I finally make my way across the campground, I hear something.  A voice.  A woman's voice that is... particularly familiar.  I turn around, addressing a woman at about 5 foot 8 inches.  She repeats her message, "If you're looking for your gear, it's in that case." She points to a footlocker, not 3 feet from the sleeping bag I woke up in.  Feeling dumb, I limp my way back to where I started, and kneel down, wincing as sharp pains shoot up through my knee.  I open the chest, and there, inside lies my sniper, my assault rifle, and my magnum.  I pick them up, slinging the two heaviest over my back, and putting the magnum in my holster.  I feel much safer now with my gear.  I begin thinking fondly of the time when I first obtained my gear, when I am suddenly interrupted by the woman again, "So what's your name, sonny?" I glare at her through my mask as if she had just murdered my family, and she steps back a bit, feeling threatened.  I soften my gaze, and attempt to mutter my name through the mask's voice amplifier, but nothing comes out.  I couldn't speak.  My voice was gone.  "How long was I out?" I think to myself...  after attempting to speak several times, the words finally come out.  I answer her question with pride, "My name, is Blackjack." I say, my voice is hoarse and my throat dry.  No wonder I couldn't speak.  "Well, Blackjack, come with me and we'll get you some food." She says, turning on her heels and walking toward the more dense part of camp.  I begin to follow after her, thinking to myself, "Obviously never heard of me...."


Hope this is okay hnnnng...

Also, how did you bump a thread that was last active April 30th? That's like, three weeks ago.