Fallout Play-By-Post

[Kitty]

Loud. Loud loud loud. Faust is getting a migraine. But, on the bright side, all the mechanisms seem to be working. Is that some sort of an elevator ahead...? A large round elevator... with people? Ah, the entrance. He did remember something after all.
Hm...
"Shall we all use the elevator at once?"

[thegreyarea]

Nine

Nine watches in awe as the old machinery comes loudly into action and the massive door opens. Now the elevator awaits. He listens the others' arguments, considering them.

Even if one of them stayed behind in the vault they have no guarantees that the ancient equipment would keep working. Damn, they have no guarantee that it will work once, to take them to the surface!

"I guess it's best that we all go together. Let's grab our things and move. We have been down here long enough."

He checks his guns, ammo and armour, grabs his duffel bag with one hand and the strange glass box with the other. His companions look at him. "This thing might be useful. Who knows?"

And then he walks into the elevator, puts the duffel and the box on the large metallic floor and holds the door open, waiting for the others to join him.

[Mirasol]

Charlie flinches as the noise and the door start. Besides the volume itself it stirrs something in the blur that are her memories from before... this. The siren. Or just the voice-tape. But unlike then, there are no sounds of explosions or similar things in the background. She counts that as a good sign.

Nine

Nine watches in awe as the old machinery comes loudly into action and the massive door opens. Now the elevator awaits. He listens the others' arguments, considering them.

Even if one of them stayed behind in the vault they have no guarantees that the ancient equipment would keep working. Damn, they have no guarantee that it will work once, to take them to the surface!

"I guess it's best that we all go together. Let's grab our things and move. We have been down here long enough."

He checks his guns, ammo and armour, grabs his duffel bag with one hand and the strange glass box with the other. His companions look at him. "This thing might be useful. Who knows?"

And then he walks into the elevator, puts the duffel and the box on the large metallic floor and holds the door open, waiting for the others to join him.

The elevator behind the door definitely looks like its best days are long past. She nods along to the others´ suggestion to all go together. As unhappy as she is to admit it, it´ll probably be a small miracle if that thing manages its way up there once, let alone more often. Perhaps there are emergency stairs to get back down...?

But everything is better than staying here, Charlie supposes. She readjusts her backpack, shoots a questioning look at the glass box Nine has apparently decided to bring, then shrugs (as long as he carries it himself...) and joins him in the elevator.

[R.M.S.N.P]

An alarm starts blaring, and several emergency lights flicker on. From the shadowy depths of the ceiling, an immense mechanical arm swings down with the hiss of hydraulics. The gigantic hex-nut at the end of the arm fits perfectly into the one set into the center of the cog-door, and pulls it back with a groan onto a set of toothed tracks just inside the door. The tracks shudder into motion, and pull the door aside, exposing the familiar antechamber with the elevator to the surface. The catwalk then extends to cover the gap where the door had been.

It's clear.
Arthur gets to his feet, his rifle lowered slightly in his right hand, while his left hand rises, elbow bent, to gesture for those behind him to start moving.


"Area clear, section advance, stay on guard."
You're not in France anymore, you pillock.
He looks over his shoulder.
"Sorry, force of habit."
He turns to Nine.
"Do correct me if I ever call you Stranks, won't ye?"

Nine

Nine watches in awe as the old machinery comes loudly into action and the massive door opens. Now the elevator awaits. He listens the others' arguments, considering them.

Even if one of them stayed behind in the vault they have no guarantees that the ancient equipment would keep working. Damn, they have no guarantee that it will work once, to take them to the surface!

"I guess it's best that we all go together. Let's grab our things and move. We have been down here long enough."

He checks his guns, ammo and armour, grabs his duffel bag with one hand and the strange glass box with the other. His companions look at him. "This thing might be useful. Who knows?"

And then he walks into the elevator, puts the duffel and the box on the large metallic floor and holds the door open, waiting for the others to join him.

Arthur follows close behind, scrutinising every inch of the walkway and elevator.

[Kitty]

Faust joins everybody.
...this thing will work, right. It will. And if it doesn't they can... think of something in case it doesn't work. But it will.

[thegreyarea]

Nine

Nine checks that everybody is on the elevator and closes the door.

The large platform shakes and begins to move up.

[Ragnarok]

The elevator shudders, creaks, and groans, but it ascends anyway. The ceiling at the top opens up, letting the sunlight in. It's almost dazzling. When your vision clears, you're on the hilltop overlooking Sanctuary, almost as you remember. It's Autumn.
The sense of awe, though, is something you're quickly distracted from by the multiple gun barrels pointing at you from all sides.

[Kitty]

The elevator shudders, creaks, and groans, but it ascends anyway. The ceiling at the top opens up, letting the sunlight in. It's almost dazzling. When your vision clears, you're on the hilltop overlooking Sanctuary, almost as you remember. It's Autumn.
The sense of awe, though, is something you're quickly distracted from by the multiple gun barrels pointing at you from all sides.

duck.
Almost automatically, Faust drops his gun and raises his hands, moving so that he can at least somewhat shield the kids.
Shit.
"Run when I tell you and don't look back," he quietly warns the girls.

[thegreyarea]

Nine

Still a bit dazzled by the intense light, Nine follows Faust lead and raises his hands. But he does that in a slow, deliberate move, trying not to startle any trigger-happy guy.

Meanwhile Faust moves slightly, trying to shield Charlie and Robin. Nice gesture, Nine thinks, yet probably useless, since they seem to be surrounded.

Nine takes some time to observe the people around them, while hoping they won't start to shoot. It would be ironic to survive 200 years just to die the moment he sticked his head out of the hole. And he would die before asking Arthur what the hell "Stranks" meant...

Soon he notices that these people are wearing uniforms, but not ones he knew. And they look pretty battered, just like their weapons. Yet those still look dangerous enough.

He really wants to try some communication before anyone gets too nervous. He just hopes these people still speak English after all those years. But even if they did... What would he say? "Ok people, everything is fine. We mean no harm. Can we talk?" or "We come in peace! Take us to your leader!" Talking was never one of his strenghts...

He decides to wait and see if any of his companions has a better approach.

[R.M.S.N.P]

The elevator shudders, creaks, and groans, but it ascends anyway. The ceiling at the top opens up, letting the sunlight in. It's almost dazzling. When your vision clears, you're on the hilltop overlooking Sanctuary, almost as you remember. It's Autumn.
The sense of awe, though, is something you're quickly distracted from by the multiple gun barrels pointing at you from all sides.


@Grey and @R.M.S.N.P: The people surrounding you are wearing somewhat battered uniforms - blue jackets over green undershirts with equally beat-up trousers. Their weapons look well-cared-for, but have clearly been in service for a long, long time.


@R.M.S.N.P You notice one of the men surrounding you isn't pointing a gun at you. He's wearing a long coat with stars on the shoulders, and is looking you over with a practiced air.

Arthur's rifle comes up with unnerving speed and precision.


He surveys each of them.
Some sense of uniform, old weapons with some care, clear leader. Like the Provos back in Ireland, or the partisans in France. This'll be easy.

He turns to face the leader, rifle aimed at his sternum.
His voice is stern and harsh, full of confidence, a solid voice to get men and women into battles they may never come back from.
"Good Afternoon." Comedic and a little condescending rather than truly polite, he continues:
"Now, You best have a ducking good reason to be pointing these guns at me, or I'm gonna be getting rid of 10 bodies while I've still got a headache from those bloody freezer pods they put us in, and that sounds proper shite."

[Ragnarok]

The circle of men doesn't budge an inch at Arthur's tone, nor do their weapons lower at all. The man in the longcoat chuckles. "Might have a bit of trouble with that one, son. Trust me - I'm faster than I look. But there ain't much call for too much unpleasantness. Just wanted to make sure what came crawling out of the vault ain't another group of madmen, or worse, abominations. Lost too many good people to such. So how about this. You put yours down, take your people a bit of a ways back where we can keep an eye on you, and a couple of my boys will head back down that elevator to scope out the vault and to make sure you're as human as you look." The grey-haired man shrugged. "Course, if you really want a fight, Carl over there'll oblige you."

Something moves out from the shadow cast by one of the trailers dotting the hilltop. It is roughly eight feet tall, with bright green skin, covered in crude armor. It is carrying a cannon that probably used to be put on an armored vehicle of some kind.



That is probably Carl.

Probably-Carl grins at the party, showing teeth that have roughly the same texture as paving stones. "Yarp."

"We got an understanding, bluesuit?" the old man asks, one hand hovering near the revolver holstered at his hip.

[Kitty]

"Don't!"
Faust moves ahead and puts his hand on the front of Arthur's barrel. If he plans to shoot now, he's either going to have to shoot through his palm, or kick him out of the way first. That should give Nine enough time to react, right?
"Sir, please. I apologize for him, he's a bit anxious. We all are. We're mostly civilians, we have children with us, and we don't know what's going on or who you are. Please don't hurt him, or any of us for that matter... Can you tell us what's happening? Who are you?"
He is genuinely terrified. Especially of Carl. If it comes to it, can they even be enough of a distraction to give kids the time to get away? The odds of that were dropping rapidly.

(d10 plus charisma is 10+6 and idk if Heartthrob would work here?)

[Mirasol]

The elevator shudders, creaks, and groans, but it ascends anyway. The ceiling at the top opens up, letting the sunlight in. It's almost dazzling. When your vision clears, you're on the hilltop overlooking Sanctuary, almost as you remember. It's Autumn.
The sense of awe, though, is something you're quickly distracted from by the multiple gun barrels pointing at you from all sides.

It´s so bright! And there is fresh air! (and things are not on fire, also a plus) Only now that she got out of it she realizes how gross and stale the air was down in the vault.
However, once her eyes adjust to the sunlight, there are guns. Charlie barely holds back a yelp. She quickly follows Faust and Nine´s example, nestling the baton into her belt (dropping her most reliable-looking weapon seems like a very bad idea, so this is the next best thing, even if it looks ridiculous) and raises her hands too.

duck.
Almost automatically, Faust drops his gun and raises his hands, moving so that he can at least somewhat shield the kids.
Shit.
"Run when I tell you and don't look back," he quietly warns the girls.

Charlie glances around herself a bit panicked. Easy to say, but they´re positively surrounded. Any shot at running would lead past several gun-barrels. She still gives a hesitant nod, not sure if to assure herself or Faust.

However, the moment Arthur starts pointing a rifle at a man who appears to be the leader of their... attackers? it seems escape-plans are officially off the table. No way they´d let them go after someone of their group threatened them. Why did he decide to do that now? They´re already outnumbered. Oh no and she would rather absolutely not meet Carl!

So she continues being stuck standing there, trying to look unthreatening as saying anything would probably not improve the situation.

[R.M.S.N.P]

"Don't!"
Faust moves ahead and puts his hand on the front of Arthur's barrel. If he plans to shoot now, he's either going to have to shoot through his palm, or kick him out of the way first. That should give Nine enough time to react, right?
"Sir, please. I apologize for him, he's a bit anxious. We all are. We're mostly civilians, we have children with us, and we don't know what's going on or who you are. Please don't hurt him, or any of us for that matter... Can you tell us what's happening? Who are you?"
He is genuinely terrified. Especially of Carl. If it comes to it, can they even be enough of a distraction to give kids the time to get away? The odds of that were dropping rapidly.

(d10 plus charisma is 10+6 and idk if Heartthrob would work here?)

Arthur lowers his rifle, enough to seem less threatening, but still ready to put a laser through someone's chest at a moment's notice.


"It's time for Arthur now, not Colour sergeant Fairfax. You can dial back on the psycho sniper mask."
Not Becca's words this time.
Nimah's.
Spoken a few month before she died, before he found a need for that mask again as he hunted him down...
Not important now. I've been done with Ireland for years now.
Focus on the now.

The circle of men doesn't budge an inch at Arthur's tone, nor do their weapons lower at all. The man in the longcoat chuckles. "Might have a bit of trouble with that one, son. Trust me - I'm faster than I look. But there ain't much call for too much unpleasantness. Just wanted to make sure what came crawling out of the vault ain't another group of madmen, or worse, abominations. Lost too many good people to such. So how about this. You put yours down, take your people a bit of a ways back where we can keep an eye on you, and a couple of my boys will head back down that elevator to scope out the vault and to make sure you're as human as you look." The grey-haired man shrugged. "Course, if you really want a fight, Carl over there'll oblige you."

Something moves out from the shadow cast by one of the trailers dotting the hilltop. It is roughly eight feet tall, with bright green skin, covered in crude armor. It is carrying a cannon that probably used to be put on an armored vehicle of some kind.



That is probably Carl.

Probably-Carl grins at the party, showing teeth that have roughly the same texture as paving stones. "Yarp."

"We got an understanding, bluesuit?" the old man asks, one hand hovering near the revolver holstered at his hip.

Arthur begins to speak, in his natural suffolk accent, rising and falling throughout each sentence, throwing in plenty of slang. It's hard to be rash with someone if you have to ask them what they're on about half the time.

"Sounds pretty reasonable. If yer willing to bringing this level of gat, you must get some pretty gopping shite in these"
He taps the elevator with his foot, and continues
"We found some massive cockroaches, 'bout the size of cats, killed them, then some old security robot with a diffy processor, it shot me, so I shot it in the faceplate, then Charlie here"
he gestures with his elbow towards Charlie
"Hossed a bottle of water at it, it brewed up and keeled over. But go ahead and search it if you like, there's still some of families frozen down there if any if you lot're boffins or riggers that fancy having a shufty."
   

[Ragnarok]

"Don't!"
Faust moves ahead and puts his hand on the front of Arthur's barrel. If he plans to shoot now, he's either going to have to shoot through his palm, or kick him out of the way first. That should give Nine enough time to react, right?
"Sir, please. I apologize for him, he's a bit anxious. We all are. We're mostly civilians, we have children with us, and we don't know what's going on or who you are. Please don't hurt him, or any of us for that matter... Can you tell us what's happening? Who are you?"
He is genuinely terrified. Especially of Carl. If it comes to it, can they even be enough of a distraction to give kids the time to get away? The odds of that were dropping rapidly.

(d10 plus charisma is 10+6 and idk if Heartthrob would work here?)

The grey-haired man eyes Faust carefully. "Alright. You all step back off the platform, stand by that backhoe over yonder, and nothing bad's gonna happen, understand? Then we can start sorting out names and places and what you lot might've missed."

Arthur lowers his rifle, enough to seem less threatening, but still ready to put a laser through someone's chest at a moment's notice.


"It's time for Arthur now, not Colour sergeant Fairfax. You can dial back on the psycho sniper mask."
Not Becca's words this time.
Nimah's.
Spoken a few month before she died, before he found a need for that mask again as he hunted him down...
Not important now. I've been done with Ireland for years now.
Focus on the now.

Arthur begins to speak, in his natural suffolk accent, rising and falling throughout each sentence, throwing in plenty of slang. It's hard to be rash with someone if you have to ask them what they're on about half the time.

"Sounds pretty reasonable. If yer willing to bringing this level of gat, you must get some pretty gopping shite in these"
He taps the elevator with his foot, and continues
"We found some massive cockroaches, 'bout the size of cats, killed them, then some old security robot with a diffy processor, it shot me, so I shot it in the faceplate, then Charlie here"
he gestures with his elbow towards Charlie
"Hossed a bottle of water at it, it brewed up and keeled over. But go ahead and search it if you like, there's still some of families frozen down there if any if you lot're boffins or riggers that fancy having a shufty."
   

"Ye Gods, the British are real," one of the militiamen mutters under his breath. "I owe Charlie a hundred caps."