OPEN QUEST MARKER A Taste of Bliss

[rissa]

---

So they're both rude and liars, Vinny thought to himself with a deep inhale as he watched Jensen immediately turn on his heel and walk off without a word. Good to know.

He tried not to let it sting, the abruptness and the knowledge or rather, presumption, that this man would more than likely hack into the terminal on the first try. Not that it was a major blow to his ego or really, one at all; he was comfortable in his skin, in his abilities. They had saved lives. Countless times. He was clever, especially when he needed to be, but he'd seen the destruction and the pitfalls of far smarter men.

After all, no one killed more innocent people than smart, ideological people.

I'll just hav'ta stay on guard. Keep these people safe like I've been trained. Even them.

So instead of being instructed as he expected, he finished stretching and watched Anchorage (now a fascinating purpley-blue color), Sachria, and Misha (though he and his hound were trailing behind, finishing up another two snack cakes) make their way downstairs. Vinny called out after them, "Hope your eyes are keener than mine! Call out if you need some help, we'll come runnin'!"

He turned to look at Law, noticing the way he compulsively brushed and brushed and brushed away at the dirt clinging to him and his clothing. There was a pang in his heart, knowing the poor guy was doomed to live in the wasteland, one that was filled with nothing but dirt and dust and detritus and debris. Vinny smiled kindly and motioned with his head to follow him down the hall.

They were halfway down the hall when Jensen and Mary, terminal indeed hacked, returned.

Vinny halfheartedly shrugged, "None of the offices have those, uh, name tags or anything, which one is Tina's? Greg's? The other three are checkin' out the vault now, I'm sure they'll find somethin'.

"Me an' Law are gunna shore up the stairwell, then I guess get to lookin' for some useful scrap. Sound good with you Law?"

---

Damn.

Sachria hadn't expected a deathclaw to be capable of such cuteness, but ah, babies were babies after all, weren't they? An unfortunate protectiveness settled atop Sachria's shoulders as they wound down the stairwell to the second floor. She halted on the landing, poking her head into the threshold. Neither she nor Misha had investigated it on their way up; they just wanted to ensure it was ghoul-free.

She turned to look at the pair, thumb pointing towards the dusty darkness that laid within. "You wanna take a peek or go straight to the bank vault?"

---

@littlekreen @Lyrikai @PolyesterH

 

[PolyesterH]

Jensen pinches his chin to think. He doesn't quite pick up on his own rudeness, a man more concerned with getting the job done than politeness.

"Its unlikely to be on the second floor. It would be difficult for the space to line up properly. The hidden shaft would likely be on the first floor. Considering the desire for secrecy enough to hide it and to encrypt the terminal, It's likely on one of the offices near the back entrance's if they exist. I'm going to start there and look for it, I'll give you all a shout if I find it. On my way, I'm going to be taking a look at the second floor."

With that, he nods with Mary and heads out. The first thing Jensen would inspect was the layout as he went down, taking a quick walk around the second floor to place all of the rooms in a mental map. Then, stepping down to the first floor he did a quick walk around searching for alternative entrances. Emergency exits, backdoors, a garage perhaps. Simultaniously, he'd make a mental note of the layout of the first floor and compare the two to see if his initial assumption of the location was wrong. After all of that, he'd check the offices around the alternative entrances, checking office by office towards the back entrance in a breadth first pattern. As they walk, Mary turns and talks to Jensen.

"Why do you think they made a secret basement? They're a bank. What could they be using that large amount of power for?

Jensen didn't have a very good answer. There wasn't a lot of plausable reasons. The fact that there was this secret project going on was an oddity in its own right. Why would someone want laundry detergent and fusion cores? A possibility, though unlikely, is that they were making their own fallout shelter. It'd explain the large variety of supplies and what they're used for. Parallel to this, he considered that cleaner can be distilled into acid, antispetics, and fiberglass. A secret fallout shelter would make sense, this group definitely had the funds and means to create it. It wasn't even a bad idea. If he was living in pre-war America this would be the scheme he'd make to survive a potential third world war. It'd also explain the power consumption.

"It could be a fallout shelter. Thats the least bad answer I have."

 

[Lyrikai]

Lawrence Rapture
PER: 6 | CHA: 5 | AGI: 6​

Ugh. All of this filthy dirt was absolutely horrendous and Law could barely even stand it anymore. Things had been so much nicer at the Institute. Though he didn't say it out loud, even the thought of the word left such an absolutely foul and rotten taste in his mouth. Wait. Why had he said things were nicer? Okay. cleaner, sure, but not nicer. Then again, what the hell was he even thinking about? It wasn't like he really remembered it much. Vague recollections of shining white walls and scientists everywhere the eye could see. He was glad to be rid of the place, even if he couldn't quite remember why or how or when he'd wound up outside... outside in the wastelands.

In the filth. No purpose. No direction. Nothing.

"That sounds good to me," he answered, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice. It wasn't a bite meant for Vinny, after all. He didn't deserve any backlash just because Law's thoughts wandered (annoyingly) back into awful times. Staring at the palms of his hands, he gave them one more half hearted wipe across the front of his shirt and stepped towards the door. Boots crunching in the dust sprinkling across the floor, he kept his head down quiet as he made his way to the stairwell to scope it out. What better time to get started than right now in the present?

"I hope this is worth it," he said aloud to no one. All he wanted to do was help. If he could prove that he could be useful, then maybe, just maybe, it could turn some opinions or make him feel better about himself. He didn't know these people at all, but there was a chance here to maybe... maybe make a friend or two.

 

[littlekreen]

EMBRACE DEMOCRACY

ANCHORAGE ALASKA

STR: 10 | END: 10 | LUK: 8

There were many reasons not to attempt to sneak up on deathclaw. One was their surprising flexibility despite their remarkably average agility. They didn't turn on a dime, but the blue/purple caped deathclaw could use its thick tail as a tripod to arc its head and torso entirely backward in a reverse C to wave upside-down at Law with the pipboy hand.

The deathclaw was perfectly happy talking at Law upside down, "

Law

Massachusets

movin' with pack, yeah?

"

Anchorage flipped himself back upright in a majestic flutter of his blanket cape in a quick toddle forward next to Sachira and Vinny. He listened to Jensen's explanation of the vault but needed help understanding more of what Jensen said it had in it. There were so many new words in his head now.

Knuckling the light so his packmate could see well he looked up to Sachira with a bounce on his toes and tail, "

I take a peek

I hear

compound reward. Detect communism!

"

A long finger and claw pointed to the eyebot he'd brought in. It didn't have a lot of empty space, and he didn't want to carry something that might roll away. He explained as best he could with pauses for thought, "

Need drawer for

compound reward.

Stairwell drawer outside silent.

"

He took off into the dark of the building ruined by nuclear war and time the flashlight more than enough for the area to be daylight to him. Eyeshine from slit eyes reappears in the murk above his pip-boy light as sandpaper skin darkens reflexively to lighting into navy and violet, staring back to see if they were looking at him and following. Satisfied that the pack saw where he was going made an about-face with a curly swish of his tail that put a dent in the wall he hugged. Left to the nearest door rather than continue up the stairs, a loud clatter and splinter of wood came as he headbutted the door. The light gave a slightly lensed nimbus about his body as he exerted strength to destroy. Dry-rotted frame erupts lacquered hardwood door from its hinges from the force to sail between office desks. An entry projectile to bisect a long-beleaguered office chair sitting at the end of the lane. Yet more detritus to add to what was strewn by an explosion from the broken pane glass window further left on an outside wall.​

Anchorage took a deep breath and loosed an adult-sounding roar. However, the small deathclaw lacked the lung capacity yet to give it quite the resonant thundering quality it deserved. He figured communists would just run away. His horned head bobbles back and forth in rapid swishes as he takes in the area. Smelling out the electronics that still had sparks to make their little squeaks in the dark. There were a few, and he tapped over to a desk and pulled at the metal desk drawer. He didn't pay much attention to the snap noise as the simple drawer lock sorely failed to convince a deathclaw of the need for its existence, and the handle proved more robust. He sniffed about and tossed papers onto the floor since he didn't read well and didn't need fire.

He extracted a milk bottle, sniffed it, gagged at it, and then placed it on the desk. That one was dry and rotten. Then he grabbed another bottle, unscrewed the cap carefully, sniffed that too, rankled his snout in a scrungle at the scent, then put the lid back on and put that on the desk too. Rotten not water. He licked the roof of his mouth to get the scent out of it and pulled out a two-pack of fusion cores to bobble his head at. Yes, that was the little dark squeaker. He considered removing the mostly empty drawer since it was like the one Vinny Army America used, but he thought the long box would be hard to carry.

The deathclaw shot up into the dark with a bobble of his head; there were still dark squeakers nearby! Further away. Not too far. He made a few steps on his tiptoes, bobbled when they squeaked, moved a few steps again toward them, bobbled, then eyed the bookcase near the rear wall. Little spark squeakers under the bookcase? The squeaking got louder as he got closer and bobbled his head repeatedly along the shelves trying to suss out where they were hidden. A hand pushed off a row of binders to the floor and pointed his pipboy light at a hole behind them. There was a carry box!

Tongue out one side as he stretched an arm to pull it out of the dusty carry box to see what was in it. The packaging was strange, different from the plastic of the other one, and took a lot of room. So anchorage took the plastic packaging out of the box and bit it to sever the end off, then pulled the case with its motors and mechanical things out of the long end. He turned his head and hurled the waxy-tasting package away with his teeth for a wobbly aged latex wrapping to careen into the air across the walkway. The little squeakers were easier to get to, but he couldn't get switches out of the package, so he had to cut wires with a claw. At least foams came out of the carry cases! He had to show Misha and Sachira the new carry box! It had a handle and latches!

Thus a celebratory baby deathclaw arrived at them with a little more than foot-long pill-shaped carrying case and held it up so they could see. There were so many words now! The words clipped even harder as he tried to assemble what it said, "

miss

us

bl

as

ter

Power is sto Red In the

bal

s.

"

He didn't have the right words to make the last sound work, but he thought he did well! He bounced at his discovery to relate it while blissfully ignorant of his find's enormous consequences. Thus opened the box to show the thing containing mechanicals and motor, "

Compound reward.

There's

communist

food in the drawers there. Tin useful scraps? I rummage around more, huh?

"

 

[wigi]

Jack C Copper​

endurance:8 /strength:7/ intelligence: 7/ agility:7

The Sound of Jack's Car Is Heard as It Tears Through the Wasteland, His Radio Yells Out the Words of Vinny. After a Few Seconds of Silence, the Radio Goes Back to Blasting the Smooth Jazz Dancing Through Jack's Ears. "The Plaza EH, Shit sounds like a hard one" The Young Man Opens the Cabinet in His Car, Taking Out a Small Bar of Food, Dry and Chewy but Edible. He takes a Bite to Help Himself Think. "That Guy Sounded Truthful. I Hope It's Not Like Last Time, Had to Go on a Suicide Mission Only to Find Out That Old Bastard Wasn't Even Gonna Pay Me, Had to Beat the Shit Out of That Fucker".
Jack floors the gas. He can make it to the plaza in maybe two hours if he heads over to the next town and stacks up. "That place is full of damn bandits. If I go in quietly, I can probably put the stuff he wants in the back of the car and drive right out."
The young man pulls down the seat beside him before picking his hat off the back seat and putting it on. He bands it upward and goes back to focusing on driving.

 

[rissa]

---

The wasteland was a bona fide treasure trove, packaged in overgrown nuclear debris and the hardy, suspicious nature of those who survived and thrived within. The roads were not kind, least of all to those lucky enough to have fusion cores capable of powering a vehicle meant for an age long gone. Jack Cooper would have a hell of a time navigating between leviathan sized roots that sprouted from the unmaintained concrete and the random pockets of metal against metal. Cars had not been spared the weathering of time and most, if not all, clogged the highway in clusters that proved difficult to navigate. Once or twice he'd need to completely leave the pavement to go around or get out of his vehicle and push the metal skeletons out of his way. But arrive he would, eventually, at United Southern Bank.

---

Sachria watched with an enthralled expression, trailing behind Anchorage at a distance. Her head cocked to the side after a fashion, noticing the way the baby deathclaw seemed to know exactly where certain things were hidden. She chalked it up to him simply being... well, him and was thoroughly impressed when he came back with not only two fusion cores, but—

She blushed, her cheeks darkening evermore.

"I, er," She looked to Misha and then to Jensen, lost for words, but noticed the latter had already departed the second floor. "Er—"

There was a guffaw, loud and snarky, almost like a bark, at Misha leaned forward with his hands on his knees. "Is that what I think it is?" He cried with laughter, "A dildo in an old bank? Oh muh gods, these were definitely some old world freaks, huh, little guy?"

Sachria glanced over, a pained expression on her face.

"You gunna open it?" Misha asked Anchorage, ignoring the blatant look on Sachria's face and holding his stomach in an attempt to stop the cramps that were forming from laughing so hard.

---

"Suppose we can make use of the desks in these offices." Vinny said with a shrug to Law, not really sure where to begin in the attempt to shore up the stairwell. The landing on the third floor was quite large compared to the second, and much more open. It was probably an attempt to secure and reinforce the grandeur of the building; a medium sized waiting area was just to the left of the landing, and the hallway that led to the room he'd been staying in was littered with two bookshelves and what seemed to be paintings of some sort.

"I can move most of these myself," Vinny said with a slight grunt, a godawful screech against the weathered floor causing him to wince as he pushed and maneuvered one of the bookcases in front of most of the stairwell. "I don't want'cha to get too dirtied. Prolly'll need help with the desks in them rooms though. You got any rope you could tie around it and pull with?"

It was said kindly and without scrutiny. It could be seen that Vinny took into account everything about his companions and especially those that upset them. Concessions, after all, were his specialty.

---

Nothing of note was found on Jensen's search of the second floor. It seemed Anchorage had already found any bits of technology worth saving. The same could not be said for the first floor. A mess though it was, the first floor was a scrappers haven, with salvageable metal wherever one looked. Behind the front desk there were stacks of pre-war money and paper, both of which disintegrated at the lightest touch. In doing so, however, a hidden drawer was discovered beneath the wicker-and-metal basket that once held them.

Two additional fusion cores were stashed within, along with a key that was presumably for the vault located behind them.

With it already wedged open, however, and the trio on the second floor eventually making their way down to investigate it, Jensen and Mary's search continued. Despite the whine in his head from the police protection stationed ten or so feet away, Jensen would eventually find Tina's office, located to the left of the bank vault and behind most of the caved-in second floor. It took a little maneuvering to get past the jagged rebar and unsteady piles of concrete and wood, but they would eventually find themselves in a rather spacious office that had a window (blasted open) to the back of the building, where a garden perhaps once stood.

The access shaft in question was still functional, however, and therefore a buzz in his head despite the fact that it was hidden beneath the floorboard of a rather large and open wardrobe repurposed as a bookshelf in the right-hand corner of the room.

---

Spark, being the good boy he was, found the entrance to the makeshift fallout shelter that led upstairs and into the vault. It was difficult for him to discern the way up and out from this end, not understanding the complexities of human design and architecture. His master would know though and so turning around and running back to meet with her, Anna would eventually hear two sounds of pit-pattering, one ahead and one behind. The one ahead would feel intimately familiar, the metallic paw and the scratch of nails against concrete that heralded her furry companion.

The alien sounds behind her became obvious after a fashion, as her stride was not fast enough to outrun them.

As she took a sharp corner, perhaps even bumping into the raw, reinforced limestone walls, Anna would catch her first glimpse of what was chasing her: two beefy radroaches. They came hurdling around the corner she herself just ran past, and caught up with startling ease.

---

@littlekreen @Lyrikai @PolyesterH @Lulunopia @wigi​

 

[littlekreen]

EMBRACE DEMOCRACY

ANCHORAGE ALASKA

STR: 10 | END: 10 | LUK: 8

A thin toothy grin pointed at Sachria with a soft tilting of his horned head that he'd learned from watching humans. Relatively too young or simple to understand the significance of his find beamed his smile the same toothy way one recognized dogs with their gleeful tail doing the same as his own. Though with slightly less bludgeoning effects than his own did to the floor in heavy taps of the leathery rudder. Reflective slit eyes dart over Sachria's reddening cheeks to look for approval just as quickly to decide the excitement meant he did well! Something reassured when Misha laughed just for the Deathclaw to bob vertically on his bent knees at the noise in a reflexive mimicry. He set down his lunchbox with the two fusion cores at Misha's feet as an offering as much to free up a hand so he could set the carry case down in front of him with a heavy clunk. Crouched near them, he sniffed at the case and curled his tapping tail around him to press it to the ground and keep it quiet. Not that this helped, as the excited tapping soon resumed when weaponized hands slid along the case seam. He wanted to avoid breaking the giant lunchbox as careful fingers looked for latches that held it closed.

He flipped and inspected the box label up to fiddle with the latch once he found them, "

Little guy

hear all the tin

transmission. I scanning online.

Gonna open old world freaks

weapon and destroy communists!

"

The long daggers that were his hands were already busy with delicate maneuvers when Misha asked if he would open it. Nails scrape at the top and sides of metal seams before the spring latch clacks at the bottom. It was more of an effort for the deathclaw to figure out how to flip the latch open without breaking it. He didn't know what a dildo was but assumed it belonged to the Communists people called freaks; they usually had big weapons! The other latch was easier once he managed to get the button to pop open and lifted the top of the case open.

The object contained therein could only be charitably described as inhuman. No recognition sparked from the young monster who just saw a rough bat with a crossguard, two bulbous ammo sockets, and a long black handle wrapped in leather sticking out the bottom.

A gleeful deathclaw took hold of the weapon handle to raise the power malus above his head. The cape fluttered behind him, though with the loss of focus, slipped from blue to his normal tan. He reached back to that same communist madman with whom he'd had a ruckus and the frothing tone they used, "

I am the inside of this world... I taste the gore, and I smell the crying... AND I WANT MORE! I want to bathe in your flesh, I want to savor your fear. I wanna live inside a castle built of your agony, AND I WANT TO CRUMBLE IT WITH...

"

Feral bombast stopped as Anchorage noticed the switch on the bottom of the handle. The other hand pressed the on button as the power malus started writhing with a guttural growling noise. A thick rudder tail swished in a curl below Anchorage to stabilize himself and his arm as the vibrations made the weapon hard to hold onto with one hand. The imperious madman had other weapons he talked about, plus Anchorage knew what an axe was. Thus Anchorage spliced in an altogether differently dubious snippet, "

A golden mallet for the meat pounding!

"

---

1) Inside of this world
2) Golden mallet

 

[Lulunopia]

Anna Hans
PER: 6 | INT: 7 | CHA: 5

Trees towered over Anna as she trekked through the forest with Spark in tow. It was Spark that chose this path, almost dragging her here. Even now he was in the lead heading toward their destination…she hoped. Her destination was Northpoint Plaza, someone needed help clearing the place of ghouls. But unfortunately Spark decided the forest was the best way to get there.

As she grumbled to herself about how her companion being bossy Spark stopped. Looking at him confused, her eyes lifted to see why he stopped. Bulkhead doors stood in front of her causing her to be even more confused. Anna hesitated for a moment as she debated entering or not. This couldn't be the entrance to the stripmall. It was too…menacing.

A bark followed the silence and like that Spark trotted up to the doors. "H-Hey!" She called out, jogging after him. "Really? You had to pick the route to creepy doors?" Her tone was playful but she was rather annoyed. Spark responded with a series of barks before Anna sighed, "Okay, okay, I'll go in."

Pushing the doors open one by one Anna stared into the dimly lit tunnel leading down. Spark stood next to her sniffing the humid air. Her eyes searched the darkness for anything really, seeing as the only light came from a column. What she found were stairs leading down, a sturdy railing next to it that looked to have been replaced by wood. Sighing lightly Annabeth looked down at Spark commanding in German, "Folge mir (Follow behind me)."

Stepping onto the stair they creaked and groaned under her feet as she descended the stair. A foreboding sense of worry set in as Anna continued down the stairs. Then suddenly it changed, the railing morphing into damp wood against concrete that looked ancient. Annabeth's survival instincts were kicking in as she pulled out her makeshift handgun, gripping it with her finger on the side away from the trigger…for now.

Looking down at Spark she noted that he stood close to her, head low and ready to attack. Worry filled her as she thought of every way this could go south real quick. And as she reached a fork in the road one going straight the other right an annoyed sigh ripped from her "Think you can sniff the path while I scrounge around," She questioned her dog, seeing the barrels that hopefully held good scrap metal.

A short bark and he was sniffing around the path as Anna headed to the barrels to look for any scrap metal. Though shifting some of the wooden containers nearby, she noted the contents falling apart. Exhaling heavily she moved onto the barrels, which seemed to hold up better than the containers. Pulling out a couple wrenches, a pair of scissors, and two torque rods from the barrel another thing caught her eye. A bag of 10mm ammo and Old World money. "Jack-pot," Ann muttered to herself as she flipped her backpack off and began putting her findings inside, satisfied.

Looking up Anna watched the tunnel Spark went down, waiting for him to emerge. 'He should be here by now,' she thought standing up and putting her backpack on. "Spark, wo bist du? (Spark, where are you?)" She called out, waiting for a moment for a response. The noise she heard next had Anna running down the tunnel after him, feet scuttling sounded in front of her as she pulled her gun back out.

Her footsteps echoed in the hall, boots thumping on ground making it harder to tell where the noise was coming from. It would be only a minute or so that Ann would stop. Then there it was again, the scuttling, this time behind her. Walking toward the scuttling noise Anna tried her best to stay silent as she moved toward the noise. 'I hope he's okay' was the only thing going through her head the farther she walked.

As Anna moved further and further down the hall she finally heard the sound of nails light scratching metal; Spark. He must have found something if he went this far. Letting her pace speed up Ann began hearing another sound coming from behind her and closing in fast. It was the sound of scuttering that had her starting to sprint.

Taking a sharp turn Anna caught a glimpse of what was following her…two radroaches. Shit, this wasn't good. They're moving faster than she can run and with there being two of them, the only thing left is to fight. Halting her sprint Anna turned, raising her gun, and shot two bullets at both the radroaches. That better be enough…

 

[PolyesterH]

Quietly and calmly going through the wreckage, Jensen's efforts of grabbing what he wants is deliberate. He takes the fusion cores, grabbing the key to the vault for now until he can regroup with the others. Him and Mary step over the rebar carefully, Mary's hand on her revolver as the two of them walk. Closing his eyes to focus, Jensen makes his way over to the source of his pain. As he steps over, the pretense of reservedness shatters to professionalism. Three simply shouted words tell Mary everything she needs to know.

"Unknown contact beneath!"

Mary's response is as instant, grabbing rope from her bag and tying it around her own gear and a sturdy looking piece of Rebar. She wasn't the best shot of the two but she was the one who was supposed to take risks. As she did that, Jensen tore everything on the bookshelf off of it and propped himself beside the repurposed wardrobe and through his body weigh being a two handed lateral push. The bookshelf moves, albeit by just enough to get it out of the corner. By the time he pulled himself back, Mary had already gotten done with her preparation took a similar stance by the bookshelf. The second attempt was enough to force the bookshelf completely out of the way. Grabbing the handle, Jensen tries to open it with a standing motion only for the hatch to refuse to budge. Even with Mary's help, the two of them now taking a quite awkward position, the hatch refuses to budge.

 

[Lyrikai]

Lawrence Rapture
PER: 6 | CHA: 5 | AGI: 6​

Law bristled at the horrific scraping of the bookshelf against the floor. Drawing his shoulders up, head down, teeth ground hard together, resisting every urge to shoot up his hands to his ears and double over at the noise. Obnoxious didn't even begin to explain the sound. Painful also felt too weak of a word to use. What had he gotten himself into?

Though he had already succeeded in making it obvious to the world that he didn't like dirt, the last thing he ever expected was to have someone not mock him, not question how he survived for so long in the wastes, and especially didn't expect someone to seriously just let him stand around and take it easy while they did the work. "Ah!" He was shaking his head. No no! He couldn't just stand here! He'd made the effort to stick around, he agreed to help, and this was included in said helping! "You don't have to worry about that-about me. I'll be alright. I can... suck it up for a little bit and do my part."

Looking around for something that could assist, he had to honestly admit he didn't have anything on him. "I don't often carry rope with me, but I am not a complete wimp." Okay. That was a lie. He was absolutely a wimp when it came to any sort of upper body strength. He sighed. "Alright, well... I mean I can at least try. If we work together, they shouldn't be too hard to drag, right? Or even carry." God. Anything but dragging if there was that option. That screeching across the floor would probably be enough to wake any ghoul for miles!

Either way, it was time to stop being the most useless lump the bank had ever seen! Settling hands on one of the desks in question, his insides turned. It was sodirty. A small cloud of dust assaulted his face when his hands disturbed through it. So. So gross. But he could do this. He could swallow the disgust and just get the job done. "I'm... ready to move this thing when you are. Let's give it a try and see, eh?"

 

[rissa]

---

Sachria flushed deeply, but Misha was damn near hooting with laughter. He clapped her on the back and gave her a would-you-look-at-that glance, eyes watery, and simply beamed down at Anchorage. The hound, as ever, stood behind him, wagging her tail in utter confusion, but happy nonetheless — though she did whine in fear at Anchorage's frothing proclamation.

Misha, once his laughter was contained, led the way down to the first floor and towards the vault. He stopped at the police protectron, poking it once, twice, before receiving the look from Sachria. The giant of a man shrugged and then squeezed himself into the wedge that was the new entrance to United Southern Bank's vault. Inside, there's a scattering of pre-War money, some that disintegrate on touch and others that hold firm.

Spoiler

Roll a perception check in #terminal-chat for potential extra loot oOoOoOoooo

---

Vinny smiled kindly, not really sure what to say in response other than, "Great! Let's get to work then."

Law was a special kind of person in the Wasteland. Vinny loved folks like him, genuine in their own kind of way. Sure, it was odd and kind of useless, but everyone had their quirks, and it never hurt to smell halfway decent. That alone could get you into places that smelling like a hardboiled radroach left out in the sun for too long definitely could not. Either way, Vinny was down for it. Down to protect what little uniqueness remained in the wasteland.

Between them, they managed to secure the stairwell with desks and overturned bookcases, some piled two high and double thick. Vinny started grabbing up any flammable material, just in case, and turned to Law with a questioning gaze. "Anything else we can do to shore this area up? Oh!"

"I suppose we ought to make some snipin' nests, huh? Which window you claiming?"

---

It takes a while for the pair to loosen the hatch door, but eventually it shifts once, twice, and finally allows itself to be wrenched open, but not before releasing a violent hiss. For a moment, all is silent, and then Jensen would feel the telltale buzz of technology down below and even Mary could hear the faint, low rumble of a generator. Additionally, with the gunshot heard earlier, there was definitely someone down there.

With the hatch open, a flickering light illuminates the built-in ladder leading down and the corrugated metal flooring that leads beyond. Once within the shaft, the room opens up into what was once a janitorial and custodial place, where one of two generators continues to function (if on its last legs) and a terminal filled with the rambling notes of a madman.

Still, deeper beyond, carved out of the reinforced limestone is a makeshift living space that leads further and deeper into the depths.

---

One bullet struck the center of the heartiest of the two radroaches and stopped it dead in its tracks. There was a heavy thud against the earthen tunnel as it collapsed and by the grace of its death, nudged the second radroach out of the way of Anna's second killing shot. It lumbered towards her, slowly on a lame back leg but intent on its prey. Its meager pace gave Anna and Spark time to escape, if they so choose, which would lead them deeper into the system and closer towards a steady strum of a machine and a makeshift living space.

---

Morning pushes into the afternoon as the day wears on and preparations are being made. Across the highway, the flooded fountain lake in front of Northpoint Plaza shimmers with blues and purples and greens and oranges, fading to a sparkle whenever a fat cloud filled with acid rain passes by. A few ghouls make their way outside, drawn towards the fountain, but they don't stray further from the premises than that.

---

@littlekreen @Lyrikai @PolyesterH @Lulunopia​

 

[PolyesterH]

Mary rappelled down into the room, taking point. Landing with a thud and raising her rifle, to her surprise there wasn't anyone down here. It was kind of disappointing. Was Jensen hearing things or was there a different problem? Regardless, she took the moment to unclip the rope from her gear and gave Jensen the thumbs up. Quickly, Jensen went to the rebar and untied the rope, taking it and climbing down the ladder to join Mary.

Upon stepping off the ladder, Jensen grasps at his temple and grits his teeth, glaring at the barely functioning generator before taking a moment to look around the custodial area. The grasping gave a respite of sorts, or at least he hoped so. Using only the quick glance he could spare, he'd grab the most valuable object on the custodial shelf and turned to follow Mary.

Mary hadn't gone far, barely a handful of steps as she systematically sweeped the custodial room and living space. There were signs that somebody had lived here, sure, but whether there was useful stuff was another matter entirely. That'd be for Jensen to figure out later. The temptation to make a snide comment like 'Some vault here, Jensen,' was quite palpable. However, if there was contact down here, it was best not to make a bunch of noise with an argument.

The two moved down into the depths at a decent pace, Mary leading the way.

 

[littlekreen]

EMBRACE DEMOCRACY

ANCHORAGE ALASKA

STR: 10 | END: 10 | LUK: 8

Pleased with his find and the new container after celebrating with Misha's laughter in a F# kazoo sound of exhilaration he pressed the button again as the writhing growl ceased. The wobbling was making his hand tired though with the object finally at rest a tilt or two of the head to get it aligned in the foam case hole Anchorage got it back in though as he flipped the lid closed his eyes dilated. The spring lock had latched itself with a clink of a sharp noise that faded him for a moment before solidity returned in a tan color. Lucky for his new container a particularly gleaming light of sentience and America had put handles on the instincts of a conflagration minded meat blender. Relaxing from the tiny chest-puffed destructive pose Anchorage brushed off the container and picked up the handle. Together with his lunchbox the weight was effortless but his balance terribly waddled as the rudder-tail whumped stability into the floor with every step raising little tufts of dust that made him waggle his stubby nose in irritation.

He looked at the protectron with disinterest, it didn't seem to be on as far as he could tell, so it wasn't trying to take his things and it wasn't moving. A few whiffs of inspection at the ankle given when Misha poked it and he looked up to Sasha when the poking stopped and bobbed his head at her icy stare, "

Freedom rock power core offline

I think it is?

"

He hurried off after Misha, behind the worried pup, and as he moved on the cloak around his shoulders billows from the bob and weave in the heavy weight on one side and the lunchbox on the other throwing off his balance. Strong though he was, an agile tool user deathclaw were not. The small deathclaw did fit much more easily through the gap than the larger Misha and set his boxes down on the floor to gawk at the piles of money. A lot of things seen at a distance as he'd never quite gotten too close to people to inspect the things they were using or carried. A knuckle to his pipboy he turned the flashlight on and carefully picked up a brick from among the piles near the door after a squat to get it with long fingers. An inspecting huff with his snub nose at the bundle of cash it promptly disintegrated into dust and paper shards in a cloud. In one sharp breath he tottered back to violently sneeze himself out of existence with the sound of an air horn screaming through a bag of harmonicas in reflexive cloaking. Nostrils and a mouth continued to appear as he snuffled and and the becloaked void stood among a cloud of cash fragments brushed at his face flailing light across the room.

 

[rissa]

---

Jensen and Mary wouldn't get too far before the shuffling and groaning of something behind them grew too loud to ignore, even Jensen - with the incessant muttering of a dying machine between his ears. Perhaps it was Mary, as fast and experienced she was in life-or-death situations or perhaps it was Jensen, in a rare bit of forethought noticed the lumbering creatures stalking them.

Perhaps the sweep of the untouched room disturbed something unseen, as two vicious looking mole rats come leering after them.

---

"Yeah," Misha calls out after Anchorage, squeezing his arms to retrieve piles of cash that remained intact further into the receptacles littering the far wall. "Offline and broke." The pup at his side whined and he turned, jumping slightly at the bellow of a sneeze and the light show that came quickly afterwards.

"Wait a sec', that's--is that?" Misha pointed left of the vault door, where buried in the rubble something gleamed gold.

---

@littlekreen @PolyesterH​

 

[Lyrikai]

Lawrence Rapture
PER: 6 | CHA: 5 | AGI: 6​

Law didn't have a whole lot of faith that he was going to be any help, but somewhere somehow someway, he managed to help build up some defenses in the stairwell without injuring or killing himself. A few desks and bookshelves didn't seem like a lot, but it was so much better than nothing. His hands were dusty and he was holding them out at his sides, slightly away from his body and afraid to touch himself or anything else. He wanted a bath pretty badly, but there was no water around here anywhere clean enough to douse himself. Besides, that probably would have been rude, right?! To just wander off and ignore his duties for their crucial moments to have a soapy bath?

He looked at the desks and cocked his head to the side, then nodded. "Yeah, that looks good. That should at least help, right?" While thinking of what else they could do, the idea of sniper nests was brought up and Law immediately looked around for windows that would be great places to put said roosts. "Oh! Yeah that's a good idea, too." He was trying so hard not to touch himself with his dirty ass hands and distracted himself with conversation and, what else? More work! "Honestly any one is fine. As long as there's a comfortable spot to sit with a good view, I'm not picky." He had his eyes scanning the room for a cushion now that wouldn't be too gross or grody for him to kneel on as opposed to kneeling on the hard floor.

 

[PolyesterH]

Jensen was wincing, the dead and dying machines fading away steadily as they stepped through. It was hard to hear or pay attention to his surroundings. Indeed, had Mary not turned to say something to him and noticed the mole rats out of the corner of her eye, he probably wouldn't have noticed until a mole rat had bitten directly into his leg. Thankfully, Mary's response was enough for even him to be clued in. She steps forward quickly and draws their revolver as they step forward, firing a shot at the front of the mole rat on the right. Jensen stays behind her, aiming down the sights of the laser rifle and firing a quick burst of three shots aimed squarely at the skull of the mole rat.

Despite the incessent noise, Jensen's aim was as true as it normally was. The scaldingly hot beams slammed into the skin of the mole rat and charred through its skin, one of the the blinding red lights even finding its way into the eye of the mole rat. The poor creature screeches in pain, just loud enough to draw attention over the whirring of the machinery. Mary's shot, meanwhile, is just barely dodged by the offending mole rat. Nevertheless, she stands her ground and raises her gun in preparation to smack the first mole rat that charged up to her be it the injured one Jensen shot, or the one that avoided being shot.

 

[littlekreen]

EMBRACE DEMOCRACY

ANCHORAGE ALASKA

STR: 10 | END: 10 | LUK: 8

Anchorage shook his head as the cloud of capitalistic allergens settled out of the air and he himself bent back into view the small tan deathclaw under that floating cape and flailing pipboy. The rotten paper stuck to him revealed his shape and rubbed at his arms and body with his palms until Misha talked to him and bobbed his head looking at the noise being still somewhat alarmed. Following the finger Anchorage took a moment to make sure his boxes were still there and stuck his head closer to the glint to better see it.

The long claws reached in to poke at the glinting object and recognized the metal as used in making Massachussets. Though the deathclaw still didn't recognize the idea of 'pre-war money' in the shards of objects he did understand caps. That familiar bombast proclaimed in that nearly inscrutable filter of Anchorage's alien sapience, "

Obstruction detected, composition: freedom alloy supplemented by chinese subversion barrier.

"

He looked up to Misha as he drifted into the man's own voice to use the new words that were actually questions, "

Freedom alloy is a preferable alternative to glory gravel!

Snatch it up and call it

American

, huh?

"

The new pack would know things. If heavy rocks were worth carrying. He could tell the metal glint was a manufactured rock and probably the same metal that made parts of Massachussets but the scope of his knowledge was rather limited.

Patriae fidelitas.

The whispers in his head said he should ask his pack's superiors before taking and though he didn't understand why, trusted the whisper implicitly. They watched out for him first long before the moon.

 

[rissa]

---

THE AFTERNOON SETTLES… Into existence with a warm lazy breeze, lifting the fallen and mutated leaves and depositing them across United Southern Bank's parking lot. More than a few made their way inside the first floor foyer, marring the small expanse that'd been swept free of debris. Perhaps it was natural happenstance, perhaps it was just sheer dumb luck that the wind was in their favor, blowing the earthy, acrid scent of the Northpoint Plaza towards them and not the other way around.

There was a soft trill of motion from the mall when the clouds finally broke open and deposited the late-afternoon acid rain, but after a while it settled, and the few ghouls that'd gathered in the flooded fountain lake resumed their mindless haunt. It alleviated the worry from the busy few inside and around the bank, freeing them to do as they pleased in an attempt to finalize preparations.

Tomorrow the Northpoint Plaza would fall from the grip of decay.

---

Vinny unraveled a small camp stove from his knapsack and was met with cold, curious eyes from Sachria. He understood her concern immediately and made his way outside and around the building so he faced the small patch of mutated flora that connected this freeway and another farther west. It also happened to face the direction Anna and Spark had come from. An hour or so before the light faded for the evening, Vinny could be seen busying himself with making a small campfire and setting up his campstove. He also made sure there was room aplenty for others to enjoy the warmth and the food.

He didn't have much in the way of perishables but he did have a large mirelurk egg he looted on the way here that was still good (probably), as well as two boxes of Blamco brand mac and cheese. Anchorage had slunk off earlier and there was some kind of commotion downstairs he hadn't been completely filled in on, but he figured it could wait. Night would come soon and with it, the promise of dawn.

And the beautiful taste of a Nuka Cola Quantum.

---

@littlekreen @Lyrikai @PolyesterH @Lulunopia

 

[littlekreen]

EMBRACE DEMOCRACY

ANCHORAGE ALASKA

STR: 10 | END: 10 | LUK: 8

Once he'd hauled off the freedom alloy from the bank to put it somewhere safer the pack went to find a place to nest. He chattered all the way about this or that and the new weapon he'd found. He wasn't stalking anything in particular so didn't really feel the need to be quiet with the pack. At least until he got outside and smelled communist meat drones on the horizon. That particular smell that flared alarm to dilated eyes with a predatory freeze to evaluate a threat. At least until they goaded him onward toward a safer temporary nest. He recognized the fire cooker for what it accomplished after standing on his tiptoes to sniff at the bundle leaving Vinny's pack before it was packed up and they moved again. He could tell Sachira disapproved and followed along dutifully until they finally settled on a different side of the building. He carefully took the blanket off of his back and put it in his lunchbox with the pipboy. Precious things went there. He found a place for his things to fit under a rock then lugged another to block it. Keep it safe. Sunset then dark soon so good time for hunting food for his pack. He tottered off in search of prey as he faded to a translucent ghost among bushes. As something that could sprint in stealth the tiny terror hadn't needed long to track down some unfortunate creature that likely smelled him coming before it knew which way to run.

Creatures generally could smell the direction of something injured and bleeding though just before sunset as some wild dogs exited the foliage with tails down in a worried look ahead at the camp then behind them. Promptly taking off down the road opting to avoid whatever was chasing them. A hollow wraith of floating bloody stains and slit eyes appears over the road berm soon after. Behind the excited tiny deathclaw was some creature dragged by its tail. Less fortunate in that it was quite dead by the bobblehead action of the mangrove gecko's cranium seen when it got closer. A nearly bisected neck having long since exanguinated the creature on Anchorage's way back. Four bits of metal bar rent off of scrap had been bent around the gecko limbs to make a rather visceral square container out of the gecko's face-up body. Within the border was piled some radguava, as well as a few strange seed heads that normally grew in a more southerly direction he'd somehow located, several glowing and mundane mushrooms, and along with some flowering plants that he recognized as being smells from homes near food was cooked. Plants torn from the ground and added to the pile. He didn't know if all of them where cook food things but the pack would know. He popped back into existence as he neared the camp and the cargeko went straight to Vinny as he fiddled with the metal tool.

The cargeko listed to one side as the filthy Anchorage dropped its tail and extolled in that perfect mimic of his, "

Anchorage rummage around and find

Chairman Cheng for America so Americans may live!

You gunna

fire repurpose

it?

"

 

[PolyesterH]

A few more gunshots, and smacks from the revolver, put down the pair of mole rats. Mary gets on the ground and guts the Mole Rat, quickly gathering and salting the meat for later cooking and consumption. Jensen covers her for the moment, and the two go around the tunnel systems gathering everything of note they can find. Multiple trips are taken to gather supplies and bring them up the ladder. Jensen finds materials of notable quality, in particular two sensor modules. These would be super valuable for future turrets. He breaks down the typewriter into its base parts. Gears, screws, and springs. All of these would be useful when making the turrets. What most struck his fancy was when he moved aside the bed, finding a safe. It wasn't difficult to crack open, it practically begged him to open it with how worn down it was. Inside was ammunition and energy cells. Enough to supply the turrets and then some. This was perfect. He did not skimp out on the cigarette cartons, they were ridiculously valuable. He usually got about 30 caps each. It would make a great reward.Satisfied, the pair headed up.

Upon getting to the surface, Jensen and Mary quickly head outside to cannibalize the cars and prime them to be explosive traps. It is downright scary how quickly Jensen sets them up, he barely needs a minute for each car. After this, he starts creating the shells of the turrets. He leaves them in such a way that they're silent while he actually does the work, not quite being an active machine. Then, when every hull is constructed, the ammo canisters are loaded, the improvised guns and lasers are cleans and primed, he puts in the final pre-made pieces into each one. Then, upon standing back, he hits a button and they all rev to life. It was a symphony of all clears, a downright satisfying declaration on what was almost like new life to him. He didn't say it out loud, but he was the philosophical sort. Humans had more in common with turrets and robots than most would admit. He had already registered the rest of the gang as friendly targets, so he started the preliminary work on the simple traps that would be set up in the morning.

Finally satisfied, a very tired duo join Vinny and Anchorage. They're both smiling, satisfied from a good days work. Jensen takes a brief moment to go over everything Anchorage brought. To a bit of his surprise, it was actually all edible. He had no idea if it was luck on the Deathclaws part or genuinely good instincts. "All of that food should be good. Plus, we did both bring something of our own." Mary takes out the Mole Rat meat, which by know was very dry and still in need of cooking. On the bright side, it hadn't started to rot. It was a good call, frankly. They had both spent more than 2 hours being around, the meat definitely would have spoiled without the curing process. The meat has hung over the fire to cook.

Some of the more savvy and attention to detail types would probably be surprised about the pair having salt. Then again, usable salt was deposited on the sand all the time. Perhaps they were just prepared. They did say they were scientist types, and although that wasn't true, it certainly led credence to the story.

With the meat set up, the two leaned back. Jensen took the lead socially again, taking out anything left of the ammo and energy cells to place it by his side. "We set up the systems downstairs. Tomorrow morning we'll set up the physical traps and then alert the horde over here. There's not a ton of bullets left here, about 20. If you use one of those bullets you're welcome to them. If not, we can break down the gunpowder to fill other casings. I have a lot of confidence with this plan, thank you all again for being part of it," Jensen gave a smile, a very genuine one.