OPEN QUEST MARKER A Taste of Bliss

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

"Anywhere I can find it," he was quick to answer. Oddly, that felt like he was trying to keep a terrible secret like he was avoiding screaming into the void I have a magical water purifier! which he actually wished was the case, but, alas, was far from it. "I stockpiled a lot whenever I could get my hands on it." He could recall a place where there was loads of untainted water, but it was effectively... gone now. A place probably overrun with scientists and synths that wouldn't be happy in the slightest to see him... and not like he even knew how to get back there even if he wanted to. A lake or a stream was good enough if the water was clear enough and there was soap... and no monsters. Even the tiny bit that he allowed himself to talk about it, he was losing a little bit of that nervous edge to his voice, more willing to share something. After all, it wasn't like the topic of a bath was all that taboo and personal. Surely, anyone desperate enough to get cleaned up every now and then found creative ways to scrub off some layers of filth enough to get comfortable with themselves.

...not that Law was ever perfectly comfortable with himself, but that was beside the point.

At the very least, he could shut his mouth about his apparent obsession with his bathing habits to focus on the topic that was more interesting and beneficial to others. The much less selfish to his own desires topic over the properties of a radiactive soda and its ability to be used in other applications sure was... something. He appreciated the change of topic, finding it much more comfortable... even if he didn't understand a lot of it.

"That sounds like such a terrible thing to do," he admitted after a moment, "What in the hell must have been going through their minds to find something that's radioactive and think Boy, this tastes good so we should try to drink it and sell it to the masses?" It almost made him rethink that strong and constant desire to pass himself off as a human if they could really be so brainless. Just because something tasted good did not mean it was safe to drink!

Even as he talked, even as his thoughts scrambled for good reasons why anyone in their right mind would drink something like that, his attention kept flickering off at Anchorage doing who even knew what he or she or it was doing- Playing with its food? And doing some wicked impersonation of a radio show Law vaguely recalled hearing maybe once or twice. It was sure hard to focus while that was going on, his curiosity seemingly continually drifting back to the creature every chance it got. "Uh.." was all he could say before he was able to snap his gaze back towards Jensen. "I didn't mean to sound rude. I guess I just... don't understand how-" he almost said humans "-how some people think. But I guess if it works, it works, right?"
 
The story kind of made sense. The problem was that something was bothering Mary. The poor man was going to kill himself at this rate. The man needs water to drink and he's wasting it on bathing. How terrible. Obviously he needed someone to tell him that.

"You're wasting water then. Humans kind of need that to drink."

Jensen had given up the noble goal of stopping Mary from digging herself a hole. He moves on to answer Lawrence's question. He shrugs at it.

"They did trials until it was acceptably safe. People wanted to make money, so they did it. That's money for you. I don't like it but I'm not one to go suggesting how to change the economy. More generally, people come up with ridiculous ideas all the times. Usually it catches in flames. Sometimes, you purify all the water permanently in a 20,000 square mile radius."

His thoughts drift back to Project Purity as he speaks the latter half, a practically legendary ordeal passed down to him from his mother. The time they almost made everything right. The moment they almost saved America, by bringing a place where people would come for safety. In just a few years America would have a strong foundation back in its capital. They could have gone north, west to retake Appalachia, South. It would have been perfect. He doesn't even think about the fact he's squeezing the rifle so hard his knuckles are bone white. He's far too weak to affect the medal, but anger comes over his face regardless. The Brotherhood were no different than them. They treated Ghouls worse than the Clique did. Shot them on sight. His teeth grit. The Brotherhood became worse than the Clique, little more than tech obsessed raiders still occupying the Capital of the United States. His voice becomes rough and angry. Mary looks at him in this state, eyebrows raided in concern.

"And then some Raider assholes take that away from you. They kill your family, born and found. Then they move in."

Mary's voice by contrast is delicate. She didn't know what happened back then, she just knew Jensen was upset.

"Are you alright, Jensen?"

Jensen takes a deep breath, relaxing his grip and his shoulders. Throwing a fit here was unbecoming of him, and he was revealing too much anyway.

"I'm fine. Let's move out, unless someone has something they want to mention."
 
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It took awhile for Sachria to speak. Shit, to even want to speak. The atmosphere in the room had went from neutral to flustered to rowdy to calm and now... Sachria took a few steps forward, towards the miss-matched pile of cushions on the floor in front of Vinny, and gently sat down, adjusted the straps of her pack as she did so it didn't cut into her. She was curious about the baby deathclaw and made a mental note to tell Cain of their existence if and when she managed to get back. Even one this size could likely help with their radscorpion problem.

She opened her mouth to ask when Vinny, smiling graciously, spoke first.

"Not so fast," He said kindly, though there was the barest hint of steel inside his voice. "Sit awhile, there's still more to go over and more time for folks to join us. Get some snacks, relax, I'll let you know when we're ready to move on out."

You look prepared and capable, Vinny thought to himself, but I'm not in the business of getting people killed.

"We still need to decide on battle buddies, a point of entry, if we're actually going to clear Northpoint Plaza in it's entirety, or just hit a select few stores." He looked in thought, eyes glazing over everyone who had joined, and then noticed Alban was missing entirely. He frowned, but continued on. "Our numbers have just dropped by one, so we need to approach this carefully."

Misha, who was busy eating molerat jerky that was surprisingly tasty, looked around the room and smiled gratefully at the news. Something about the chem'd out man hadn't sat right with him to begin with.

"Well, if I may," Sachria said softly, glancing around the room with a pleasant, if curious glance. "What is everyone's strengths? Weaknesses? I'm fast on my feet and quick with my rifles and damn near impossible to pin down. If I get hit though, kinda out for the count, so I could use someone to watch my six."

Misha grunted, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and giving the remaining chunk of jerky to his dog. "I'm strong, a good shot, and with her, almost impossible to surprise."

@littlekreen @Lyrikai @PolyesterH
 
Jensen was relieved that nobody looked into his small outburst more than they already did. It seems he rendered most of them speechless, and Vinny changed the subject before someone could ask hard questions. Straightening his vest, he spoke plainly with an intent to avoid embellishing himself more than he already had.

"I'm likely going to be your best shot in the group. I'm an expert technician and hacker. If something needs fixing or hacking, I'm your man. I propose we clear out the mall in its entirety. I can take good shots at the Feral ghouls from where I am. Mary, why don't you go talk about yourself?"

Mary quietly pulled down her scarf-cape, revealing her mouth now that she's the center of attention. God, she didn't have much to talk about. She was fast and she was tough. The latter was very impressive, but it wasn't anything like Jensen who was better than her in both intellectual and marksman pursuits. Its a wonder he used the laser rifle primarily when he had the aim that wouldn't be out of question for a sniper. God, he really undersold himself. She clears her throat, anxious as she speaks.

"I'm a bit faster than most people and I'm very tough. I know that doesn't sound like a lot but if we're just dealing with ghouls thats worth a lot."

She took a look at Jensen, almost pleading to pass the proverbial mic. He sighs and continues.

"Needless to say I'm going to be with Mary. We know each other very well."
 
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EMBRACE DEMOCRACY
ANCHORAGE ALASKA
STR: 10 | END: 10 | LUK: 8


Anchorage wanted to sit after eating enough so his skin didn't feel cold though the floor was still hard and not comfy even on his thick hide. He stood up and stretched the legs tall to his toe tips and the arms high, then back, until there were soft joint pops of tensing dense shoulders as the toothy jaw quivered a throaty trill and wheeze in concert with a muffled clatter of his lunchbox. He softened then returned to the upright meerkat tripod of standing on his tiptoes with his tail for balance as Sachria moved from some darkened corner. It drew his slit eyes for the gaze to follow her sitting on the cushions that looked very soft compared to the floor. Instinct said it must be safe since it was next to Vinny Army America sitting there too and he said it was time for naps until the pack moved.

So the thick tail arced back to balance the deathclaw's usual hunched walking posture as sharp nails on his feet each clacked a rasp of snare beats across the floor. Though he repeatedly stopped as he went to make that same tripod of himself whenever someone new started speaking. Mostly just cocked his head at an angle toward Lawerence as the mind mostly shuffled the bits of words off into their own pile that felt too meaty to fit in his thoughts. He listened and understood some of it, Sachira was good with the long bang guns, and the arsenal of democracy with strong Misha detected communism. He was strong too. Jenson could fix the broken rocks and the Mary arsenal of democracy detected communists too. The Lawerence arsenal of democracy he wasn't supposed to eat didn't smell like food anyway, and he wondered if the ghouls would think he wasn't food too. Green glow ones could tell he was there somehow, and others could smell anchorage even when he was hiding. Yes, they were teaching the pack what they could do like the rocks did. He could do things too!

The stretched tripod said with Jensen's confident voice as he said he would pair with his arsenal of democracy, "
I special properties in the presence of radiation. Purify acceptably safe.
"

He settled back down to the hunched posture continuing his sashay of swaying tail over to set his lunchbox in front of the pillow pile, then, with some excitement, clambered up onto a pillow that only fit half of him. He continued onward to sploot his top half onto Sachira's lap as the business end of the sharp claws of his feet pointed upward behind him on the small pillow. Mimic chatter continued while entirely oblivious to any discomfort of his proximity. He repeated Jensen's then her voice back at her with a contortion of his head so he could see her from her lap, "
Fire damage the mysterious. Mysterious Deathclaw
strengths
destroy all communists!
"

The lap was warm though tactile contact made his skin twitch from tan into colors like some pressure-sensitive oil slick. He didn't react much to anyone touching him but leaned into the warmth for a moment though the bumpy hide was a hard gritty leather seemingly unblemished by the lines of scars that festoon many in the wasteland.

As Jensen mentioned the ghouls again the deathclaw perked up. He was strong and hard to hurt. Keep pack America safe. He didn't like to repeat the words of communists as he stopped for a moment with his head down to think but couldn't find the right sounds to say he was strong otherwise. If the voice was notorious, Anchorage didn't know of it, and if its source was now strangely missing in action, the notion of his being present to hear these words spoke of an untimely end or recovery for one or both of them, "
Stab me a THOUSAND TIMES! Make me bleed! Nobody kills me but ME!
"

He then whined in a warbled trill as he worried about the swarm of communists there, "
I don't like it but Feral
communists
possible move on mysterious
Anchorage. Move with yer pack America?
"


1)Stab me a THOUSAND TIMES!
2)Make me bleed!
3)Nobody kills me but ME!
 
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Lawrence Rapture
PER: 6 | CHA: 5 | AGI: 6

Wasting water or not, the only other alternative was having to live in filth, and that was an abhorrent thought to have. There were so many things he could have said aloud to that. Like Listen. Dirt is disgusting, but where would such a protest get him except to possibly irritate and annoy people here and potentially put him at odds with this one.

Letting the comment go without a response, he listened to Jensen instead, slowly nodding his head as he followed along. Did humans really have so few regards for literally anything that their motives had them doing such crazy things for... money? Well. He didn't know much about the concept of money past how far he could get through a settlement with a pocketful of caps and a (hopefully hot) meal.

As a further and sudden remark about raiders cut through the air, Law ground his teeth together. He didn't know what to say to that, if he should offer sympathy or ask for an elaboration. At the very least, he was glad it was a bite about raiders and not another damned ghost story about a synth infiltrator stealing another victim away in the dead of night.

Tapping his fingers against the body of his rifle, he spoke up. "This is for range," he explained, "It's good at picking out enemies at a distance, but it's got worse accuracy the nearer you get. I wouldn't be any good to anyone who expects me to fight in close quarters. I haven't got a better weapon on me. I'd feel much more comfortable providing cover from behind if that's alright."
 
Jensen shuts his eyes for a moment, gears turning in his head. Almost everyone was ranged. This was good, he never put much stock in people that relied on melee weaponry. It seemed like a gimmick at best. The only one there he actually trusted in combat like that was Anchorage, whose a deathclaw. There were, however, a lot of ghouls in the mall. Too many of them to engage in an open field. There no way they had the rate of fire to take combat from all sides, and sneaking around mostly wasn't an option. If they were going to clear the place, they'd need a plan.

His mind started to drift to military battles an officer friend of his talked about, and he studied. They were against a massively numerically superior foe but had an advantage individual. One battle in particular graces his mind and he looks around room. Stepping too the window, he poked his head out to focus on the wailing of the cars. After looking out for a moment, he snaps his fingers with a smile. Straightening his back and speaking calmly, he asked a question.

"I know how we can clear the mall safely. Who here is familiar with ancient history?"
 
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"Uh," Misha replied, sounding a bit lost and perhaps a bit skeptical. "Not really an easy subject to be familiar with, is it? Half the holotapes meant to preserve shit like that got lost to dust."

Outside of the pointed remark, the giant of a man was busy scratching his head, eyeing the mall and the sloping freeway between them. The cogs in his mind were turning, rummaging around and between, both trying to figure out where Jensen could be going with his statement about ancient history and trying to coherently frame a train of thought.



Sachria raised a delicate brow. Her body tensed, relaxed, went through the motions in rapid fire succession, ultimately settling on something halfway between relaxed and bemused at the creature lounging in her lap. Up close it was easy to tell why deathclaws were the true apex predators of the Wasteland. She couldn't help herself, not really, running a gentle hand against Anchorage's leathery hide, amazed at the texture and the subtle reactions. It took her awhile to realize he was cold and using her like a fire.

She giggled under breath, at Anchorage's declare of nigh invulnerability and the realization of their needs. Kids were kids, it seemed, no matter the species. She tugged at her backpack with her left hand, loosening and then retrieving a very old and very nicked up fleece blanket, one she used to hop over barbed wire and the like with.

"Could you use something like this?" Sachria asked softly, handing it over and miming putting it around her shoulders and tying it in the front.



"You can watch my six, then," Vinny said to Law. "Long range ain't really my style, not unless it's throwin' a cocktail as a diversion. I like to get in quick and retreat, silent, no one's gotta know. Helps knowin' I got someone lookin' out though."

Vinny watched the rest of the room with rapt, lazy attention as conversations fled in and out and subjects were moved across the proverbial board in real time. He was interested, perhaps too interested in all that Jensen knew, or rather, where he learned it. About Misha's presumed prejudice and just where he came from— he looked the part of a former raider thanks to his armor, but without any of the telltale signs like tattoos, scarification, and the ever-obvious acid scars. Why a mysophobic was able to survive the wasteland or why Sachria, a Happy Camper was a little too far away from her Happy Little Camp. Or why Anchorage existed so, so far from their home.

But voicing that would just bring suspicion, as Jensen had already demonstrated. So Vinny played the safest route he could think of.

"When you say ancient how ancient are we talkin'? Like Pre-War days or...?"

In response to Anchorage's anxious trill, Vinny tacked on soothingly, "And Anchorage, bud, don't worry, you'll be movin' with us. Til we say goodbye, you're part of our pack. Right y'all?"


 
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Jensen, recognizing the precarious situation he was in but content with the hole he has dug, or at least his ability to claw out of it, begins going off. He smiles genuinely at the questions. He speaks readily and only pausing to breath,

"A long time ago, there were the city states of Greece in Europe. This was a bit over 2 and a half millennia ago. I myself learned this from a remarkably well preserved history textbook I got from a high school, it was right under one of the desks. I had to go cannibalize a few other books of the same edition to get one with the full information of course. I have it back home and am planning on transcribing it at some point and getting it reprinted. HIstory's important."

Content with the deflecting tangent he made, he clears his throat as if it wasn't intentional and gets back on topic.

"And at the time Persia wanted to invade Greece. Greece's city states, of course, were not very fond of this idea. So, they mustered everyone they could and chose a narrow passage to defend. This place is known a Thermopylae. This passage allowed them to defend against a vastly numerically superior Persian army by limiting the area in which they face their opponents face to face. With the Greeks superior equipment, they were able to defend themselves from the Persian onslaught even though Persia had vastly superior numbers. So, here's what we're going to do. We're going to take a page out of the Greeks book, and we're going to hold up in this bank."

He gestures to the staircase, continuing on. His tone is excited and passionate for seemingly the first time, full of life,

"The stairwell is prime real estate for a narrow passageway. All we need to do is put caltrops on the stairs, make a kill box around the exit of the stairwell, and set up some turrets to support that kill box. Dead ghouls will drop onto the ground, making rough terrain for the others to crawl over. As they die and they try to force themselves through, they'll slow down on their way up. Eventually it's just a matter of waiting for them all to die as we kill them. To help with this, I'm going to go outside and gather some fusion cores from the cars that still have them. I'll turn them into grenades and whoever has the best throwing arm will throw them at clumps. In order to get they're attention, I'll take potshots at them with the hunting rifle after taking off the suppressor. The shots and noise will drive them over here. If that doesn't work I can put together a noisemaker. All in all, I think this is our best plan for clearing the mall."

He finishes with a wide grin. He had a great deal of confidence in this plan, and it was a fantastic excuse to get to demonstrating his asset as the 'smart guy' and get his mental gears turning. The Colonel would have been proud of him, no doubt.

"Any questions?"

Mary, while Jensen was speaking, just stares off into space at him while she quietly questions why he felt the need to go on such a wordy tangent. She suspected Jensen liked hearing himself speak on some level. One of these days, his enthusiasm is going to get him hurt. The plan sounded like it was a good one, at least.
 
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"That—that sound's like a kid's tale. Like somethin' my ma' would tell my sisters before bed."

He turned to look at everyone else in the room, noticing only Mary shared his same level of disinterest. Both Sachria and Vinny seemed to place the story, however, and were doing the mental gymnastics needed to figure it out. Misha was dexterous enough. Sure, it seemed strategic enough between the embellished words that sounded like fairy tale babble— stairwells were either advantageous or detrimental, but everyone in the wasteland knew that. But was the effort worth it? Did they have enough rounds between them to rely solely on long range rifles?

Misha glanced around the room once more, deciding eventually he trusted no one but Anchorage to get backed in a corner with, clip empty, relying on a dagger or whatever was lying around. Which was what happened more often than not out here in the wastes.

"Not sayin' it won't work, but what's the point of it?" Misha asked bluntly, throwin' his thumb over his shoulder to point at the mall behind him. He addressed Vinny next, not giving room for anyone to speak. "You got plans on turnin' that mall into a camp? You got men and women to defend it with or you just gunna leave it for the next colony of raiders to snatch it up and call it a home?

"No offense to y'all, but what's the point of clearin' it out entirely (if we even can with so few of us) and wasting all that effort for so little in the end? Yeah, looks like there might be some stims and rad-x stashed away in that clinic and maybe some nice comics, but is the amount of effort to potentially get trapped up here, since that stairwell is the only way up or down, better or worse than reconin' through the mall?

"Answer me that and I may stick around and be part of the fairy tale squad."


 
Jensen's smile didn't fade. It was the face of a man with perfect confidence and self assuredness. Beneath the surface, he had every card in his hand. He pulls out a badge. It looks pristine, almost perfect and well taken care of. Respect has been put into this item. Seeing this, Mary does too, though hers is considerably dirtier.

"Jensen Elsher, Follower of the Apocalypse. We are a group dedicated to the preservation and restoration of knowledge, technology, and legitimate education in the wasteland. We were founded on the west coast and sent an eastern expedition when we heard news of the Captial Wasteland purifying its water supply. We wanted to see if the technology was replicable. I was born there to my parents. We were driven out by the Brotherhood of Steel who wanted to hoard technology for themselves and keep it from the public. I have a group of my compatriots who are looking to put a permanent settlement. The mall, although large, has a lot of important tools, knowledge and information. It is also a good base to operate in the region from."

Mary readjusts her hat. Jensen had prepared this claim for a long time. Practiced the story several times too. Hopefully it would work.

"It will help you in the long run to have us operating in the area. Additionally, there is a way down from the stairwell. I have rope we can climb down. Lastly, clearing out the mall directly risks us being surrounded in the open and attacked on all sides by a horde. This is not an ideal situation."
 
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Lawrence Rapture
PER: 6 | CHA: 5 | AGI: 6

"I know very little about pre-war history," Law admitted. Rolling a shoulder back, he plopped himself down on the floor to sit and settle for a moment where he could look over his weapon. Gentle, soft fingers smoothed down the barrel, caressing it almost like one would pet a precious animal. The touch was loving, clearly a weapon he was fond of. It was one that had gotten him through far too many scrapes and close calls than he had any business speaking about whether in complaint or to brag. He'd been both ends of the spectrum enough times, and now was just content to be able to sit here and relax for the moment.

"I'll do my best," he said rather than a confident 'You can count on me' or 'I won't let you down'. He knew better than to make promises he wasn't certain with a one hundred percent probability that he could keep.

Quiet now, dragging a knee up to his chest, he grimaced at the layers of dust coating the floor. He was going to need a good washing after this, but, for the time being, there was simply nothing he could do about it. So, he shut his mouth and listened to the impromptu history lesson. It was about a war. Of course it was about a war.

Everything was because of war.

History may have been important, but it hardly seemed like anyone was keen on learning from it. War made this hellscape and war would obliterate even more down the road, long after everyone in this room was dead and gone.

Still, however bitter he was mulling over the tragedies of battle, this one was at least an interesting story. He had to let all that sink in for a moment before he spoke, starting with, "So you want the mall. Cleared out so you can settle it." Well, personally, he didn't have a problem with that. They could have the mall, what did he care if it was a haven for ghouls or retaken by humans to make a new home? "If you're asking for help, you can have mine." Okay, so maybe he didn't know why he was agreeing so readily without even trying so much as to set terms, but... it was the right thing to do... right? People helped each other... right? That was what people did. Because it was kind.

"So that's your plan then? To barricade a stairwell and make a choke point?" He wasn't a soldier by any means, but he had enough fighting experience to understand the basics of such an operation... even if he himself had never strategized such an endeavor. You didn't formulate battle strategies alone, after all. As one measly soul, he always preferred keeping his damned distance if he had to fight, and sneaking on by whenever it was possible. "Just... Just tell me what you want me to do."
 
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EMBRACE DEMOCRACY
ANCHORAGE ALASKA
STR: 10 | END: 10 | LUK: 8

The small death claw's head swiveled a slightly uncomfortable amount directly backward to pay attention to Sachira without apparent strain, and was some of why sneaking up on them tended to be a rather dangerous endeavor. He leaned into her warm hand since all the hiding had made his skin very cold. The heat couldn't get him while he hid and left anchorage happy the pack was good and warm. That warmth in his skin slowly freed its sluggish reactions to more aggressive rainbows as the blanket faintly brushed him. He liked the warm blanket though he couldn't make it hide too, not like the Liberty. He could be like the comics! The others were talking a lot, but it was so much at once he had trouble holding on to all but the small bits. It was fine; Sachira America said small things.

He just mumbled the person he'd heard over and over and over again from the rocks as they talked big blocks, and the whispers in his head seemed to like the president of long past even if he didn't know what they meant exactly, had memorized it perfectly, "
Yes, these men and their hypnotized followers call this a new order. It is not new and it is not order. For order among Nations presupposes something enduring—some system of justice under which individuals, over a long period of time, are willing to live. Humanity will never permanently accept a system imposed by conquest and based on slavery.
"

The skin slowly smoothed slightly as he looked back to reply to her, and the chopping turned denser when she offered the blanket, "
If mysterious I am
stop hot. I temporary
Snacks, relax, bed,
Glory restart hot. I
may use something like
hot barrier
this?


The deathclaw's skin flickered in dusty regions for a moment then in concert as he suddenly turned bright blue and stuck out his arms for Misha's voice to proclaim, "
I like them fairy tale comics.
" Before torquing himself a bit and loosing a tightly stitched set of dog whines as 'flying' noises.

He lifted the cobalt blue body even though even with a thumb and claw against clothing that took delicate care not to pierce, especially given their sharpness, after seeing her put it around her own neck. He knew he had to give it back if he was going to hide but with a pack he didn't have to for a while so said in snippets of Jensen, "
I if mysterious get it for you.
"

The blue-bodied deathclaw looked to Vinny as Anchorage planked effortlessly above Sichara's lap to lazily twitch his thick tail back and forth with a grin. The long heavy blue tail careened over to one side and booted his metal lunch box closer where he could reach it then pointed at it just to plank with one arm, "
Part of us pack America. 'Til we say goodbye America buddies. I silent quick carefully approach. Food in the stores.
"

He brought plenty of food so he could hide and he could be warm now too until he had to hide.
 
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"Coulda' started with that, ya' know," Misha grunted out, "Like she did," Nodding towards Sachria, though there was a noncommittal shrug as he considered the bright yellow shade and the smiley faces shaved into her scalp. Perhaps that was a bit too obvious, but she had introduced herself as a Happy Camper Deputy. Regardless, Misha considered it, eventually slouching onto the desk in defeat and admiration.

Good deeds were always well received in his book and he tried to never pass up an opportunity in which he could do some good.

"Don't sound so self righteous 'bout it though, that usually puts a stink in some folks mouth. 'It'll help you in the long run'" Misha quoted with a dark, derisive laugh. "Is moot if there ain't no long run to be had."

He bit into a snack cake as he contemplated his choice, "Guess I'll get to tell my sister's I was part of a fairy squad."



Sachria had a unique gift.

One that she was hated for growing up. Feared. Locked away.

But then she met Cain and the world she'd known fell apart at the seams as he revealed truth after truth after truth. Undid years of damage. Destroyed the box. Eliminated those she feared. All she had to do in return was use her gift. And what a pleasant revision to life that was.

Loved instead of feared. Respected instead of hated. Useful instead of useless.

Sachria's unique gift was knowing when she was being lied to.

It wasn't like a psyker or the old widows who could see the past or the future with a hit or two of jet and it definitely wasn't like those Children of the Fen, their abilities so varied and powerful that it was like something otherworldly had bestowed it upon them. No, she simply got a feeling, right behind her bellybutton, that tingled whenever someone outright lied.

She stared pleasantly at Jensen and Mary and Misha, not intruding on the conversation as she was distracted by the adorable deathclaw absorbing her warmth. Sachria used the plentiful movement as a distraction when the conversation began to lull, not interested in pushing against their claims, lose the help of the half-giant, or explain how she just knew despite only ever hearing of the Followers once.



"It'll be a start," Vinny replied to Law, "Stairwell choke most of the ghouls away from the mall..." He didn't like the idea of surrounding the bank with a horde, despite the stone and brick still being sturdy, but he couldn't deny that it was the best option to clear it out in its entirety. "We won't get all of them, but it'll make clearin' out Northpoint much easier if we only gotta worry about a handful rather than a horde.

"We can get stuff ready tonight. Give any latecomers a chance at not being caught in the horde."

To everyone else Vinny looked normal, calm, his typical happy-go-lucky self. But as Jensen would take his second sweep of the room, he'd notice Vinny's clenched jaw and the way he'd open and close his left fist, absently, lost in thought. He'd catch his gaze, for only a moment, and it was clear as day:

Liar.

"I'm same as Law though, just tell me whatcha need me to do and I'll be onnit!"


 
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Jensen's disappointment in Vinny's anger is something he does is best to bury deep. The boss was upset about something, and that would be a trouble for later. Distrust is a killer for groups like this, and Vinny looked particularly irked. He looks at Vinny, as he and Mary put away their badges,

"Before you do anything, is there anything of note within the bank that we should pickup before we stuff rotten flesh in the stairwells? It is a bank next to a mall. There might be important things here."

He points at Lawrence with a smile, burying his notice of Vinny's disbelief even further. He was a good man. A good Synth. He probably didn't want someone calling him out, that'd just sour the groups relations more. There isn't even a benefit to that in the first place if he's honest with himself.

"I need you, and Vinny when he's done answering my question, to search the place for the security measures this bank has. Its likely to have, or have had, turrets of some sort another. We can break them down and rebuild them. Tell me about any terminals you find and any broken robotics. Bring me any ammunition you find so we can gather them together. We can then repurpose the useless rounds into things we can use. Mary and I I will be outside getting the material our bombs for a bit to thin the hoard before they get to the bank, then I'll head inside."

He turns to the rest of the group. They seemed to have believed it, which will be good when he calls in his boys in. The Clique will have to act the part, but it'll be a good thing for public relations and gets them access to everything in the mall later.

"Everyone else will be gathering scrap materials to make caltrops and barricades out of. Don't take anything from the walls or beams themselves, we'll use furniture. It'll slow down the ghouls and help with getting rid of them, save us ammo. Does anyone have any questions?"
 
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EMBRACE DEMOCRACY
ANCHORAGE ALASKA
STR: 10 | END: 10 | LUK: 8

Anchorage turned to the dangling blanket and gingerly took it in his mouth to pull it away and scoot sideways down the pillows to the floor. That same blue hue covered his stomach with the same momentary dusty flicker as the contact distortion faded. Slightly tattered blanket in his long sharp fingers, he took the corners by knuckle to stretch his neck again. He knew how to tie things together after watching people scared something was looking at them from somewhere. People said so sometimes when he was close enough to hear, but he was hiding right in front of them, and most of the time didn't see any communists.

The blanket made a loose granny knot around his neck as he inwardly went 'overunderoverunder' to himself in his head. The cape billowed from support by nascent spikes growing out of his back, keeping it from clinging too tightly. He looked back at Sachira, "
I be movin' up away too! head out
weapons destroy communists!
"

He crouched slightly as the deathclaw's head turned purple and the jaw contorted for sharp teeth and mouth to make a continuous laser rifle noise. Then looked to Vinny and Jensen as they explained the bank though the deathclaw's eyes darted as the density of speech was partly lost on him. It got too meaty for his mind to follow; he figured the bank must be some kind of dead pack vault? He had Liberation for that!

He flipped the lunchbox over and scooted sideways to crouch over the lunchbox with a bobbing on his haunches from excitement. The lid creaked open as he grabbed a particular bit of tech to shake out caps, fancy lands, jerky, and assorted bits and bobs he found along the way. However, this piece of technology was something very not from around here. The wrist was adjustable, and the hardware was slightly different than the pip-boy 3000 often found in vaults. His was the 3000 mark IV distributed around boston. The small arm carefully slipped through to wear Liberty and locked the cuff. It saw the deathclaw arm and immediately started booting up though the display seemed to say nothing; it was just faint as he'd broken the small brightness dial when he was younger and could never fix it. Then the sounds of initialization came with the operating system going green as a hissing noise adapted and secured the cuff to his arm. He could wear Liberty with the cape if he didn't need to hide like a real superhero. The machine quietly assessed the wearer's health, throwing several internal warnings about the "human's" biometrics as software promptly kicked over to another branch and re-evaluated its deathclaw user.

He pressed a button and pointed the flashlight at his lunchbox to fish out the only tool other than a hammer or claw he knew how to use: a screwdriver. He held it up in the long-clawed hand, "
Vault
Bank
are we talkin'? I watch vault pack.
Break down scrap.
"
 



Both Sachria and Vinny were interested in the Pip-Boy removed from Anchorage's lunchbox. They didn't even try to hide it. Misha was busy eating another two snack cakes though, attempting to convince the hound sitting atop his feet that too much sugar would make her teeth weak and her breath stinky. There was an awkward lull, at least for the two former as they shared a glance and then another with the room. Sachria, for her part, had only seen a Pip-Boy of that make once, coming back from Sava. Vinny, however, stared, lost in thought, recognizing it completely. The model he wore was based on the Mark IV.

He scratched his head, comforted that his earlier suspicions were right but also mildly baffled. Bemused. As he was often wont to do, Vinny let out a small chuckle as he shook his head and stood. He spoke to Jensen as he stretched, readying himself to be useful.

"Whatcha see in the drawer is mostly what was here, with some o' my personal stash thrown in. Been here for a few weeks, so no need to send us searchin' without specifics. Two terminals are functional, one's down a floor, already hacked and nothin' useful. One in the office over there I ain't managed to crack yet though. There's two police protectrons on the premise but you're prolly only gonna get one working, the one in the parking garage is thoroughly rusted. The other's right outside the bank vault.

"Feel free to rummage around and find somethin' I missed though."

Sachria perked up at that and looked over to Anchorage with his screwdriver in hand, "Wanna check out the bank vault with me? I bet your claws can make some fine caltrops outta the metal down there." She stood, reaching to grab a wrench out of her backpacks side pocket. She twirled it between her fingers and flashed him a kind, toothy smile.

"I'll go widya," Misha said between dual bites. I know a guy who goes nuts for pre-War money."

After awhile, Vinny asks Law sheepishly, "I don't suppose you have a pair of tin snips?"



Where you go is what you'll reveal, ie. you need to search the bank IC to discover and reveal things. Creative freedom is yours: this is a typical "upscale" 3 story bank. Feel free to embellish and explore with the lil "guidelines" below. There's some hidden clues in the "Master" level terminal that Vinny was unable to hack into, but here's a quick little rundown:

- 3rd floor: where we are currently, if you want a very shiddy rendition I made in canva in like 15 mins before bed, @ me in the server. The second floor is mostly individual offices with storage supply rooms at either end. Mostly a mess, typical office shit with Fallout's aesthetic. If you want some inspiration/some junk options you'd like to find, take a peek at the junk items listed here. (Offsite link: leads to the Fallout Wiki.) The first floor is an absolute mess and seems mostly detritus, the floorplan, if you will, is the least in tact. Beyond the front desk however, lies the vault, which lies open but only dubiously so. A part of the second floor has caved in here and the vault door has been pried open. Due to the rust and overall decay, it can be deduced the break in was awhile ago. There is also a parking garage out back.

- It's been revealed that there are 3 items of note within the bank and as mentioned above you have to go rootin' for 'em. Feel free to set the scene and I'll come in with reactionary responses or message me privately and ask for a collab post! Whatever's most comfortable for you.

puzzlever.png

Link

Tis a cipher. Work alone or work together to figure it out. For mercy's sake I have the text version below.
If you figure it out quickly, at least spoiler talks in the server til everyone has read<3

Ujapn kruub wnnm anyunwrbqnm knoxan cxvxaaxf'b yjhmjh.

Jocna bnenaju lxvyujrwcb, cqn anprxwju vjwjpna jyyaxenm vh anzdnbc oxa kjltdy pnwnajcxab cx njbn cqn uxjm xw xda vjrwoajvn. Rwbcjuujcrxw orwrbqnm cxmjh, mxfwbcjrab rw cqn kjbnvnwc, frcq jllnbb erj j bqjoc rw Crwj'b xoorln. Bqn fjbw'c cxx qjyyh rc, kdc bqn unc cqn fxatnab orwrbq frcqxdc cxx vdlq bqaruu qjbbun.

Cqrb rb cqn oxdacq crvn qn'b anzdnbcnm jmmrcrxwju bdyyurnb cqrb vxwcq, ajwprwp oaxv Jkajgx cx odbrxw lxanb oxa cqn kjbnvnwc pnwnajcxab. R'uu fjrc oxa Pnaah cx pnc kjlt oaxv ejljcrxw knoxan lxwoaxwcrwp qrv cqxdpq, qn'b j krc fnram jwm mxnbw'c pnc dybnc fqnw rc lxvnb oaxv qrv.

 
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Jensen goes to the terminal and looks at it for a moment. He takes out a piece of paper and pencil and starts writing. He writes down 2 letters for 8 lines. On the 9th line he just starts writing at full speed. It always paid to assume the worst in security, and an old system like this wasn't likely to be super secure. What he didn't expect was that the solution would be so common. He used more advanced encryption methods for passing notes between his peers, and he didn't expect that to get past an actually determined person. Yet, they trusted one of the oldest and most commonly used by laymen who didn't know better. With a sigh, he put down the pencil and tapes it to the screen.

Large bills need replenished before tomorrow's payday.

After several complaints, the regional manager approved my request for backup generators to ease the load on our mainframe. Installation finished today, downstairs in the basement, with access via a shaft in Tina's office. She wasn't too happy it, but she let the workers finish without too much shrill hassle.

This is the fourth time he's requested additional supplies this month, ranging from Abraxo to fusion cores for the basement generators. I'll wait for Gerry to get back from vacation before confronting him though, he's a bit weird and doesn't get upset when it comes from him.

"I can't believe they encrypted this with just a Caesar Cipher. Anyway. I'm going to head in the basement through TIna's office. One of you should check Gerry's office. Maybe check the vault too."

Mary thought this attitude was a bit rude, in a rare moment of social clarity. Her words brought Jensen to sigh.

"I never heard of that. Its not that surprising that people didn't figure it out."

Jensen gives a sigh, not appreciating being called out after solving the cipher.

"Yeah, I guess."
 
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EMBRACE DEMOCRACY
ANCHORAGE ALASKA
STR: 10 | END: 10 | LUK: 8

Reflective eyes let the deathclaw read that display well enough as long as it wasn't too bright. Even if it did give them a distance vision of middle-aged humans. Ably using the dials with a knuckle, keen on not damaging Liberty, he flipped through the tabs though the screen version was slightly off its standard. The radio interface was missing, and the health status readout had a cartoon deathclaw in a vault suit instead of Vault Boy. The OS had been altered. The Geiger counter on the outside seemed broken at zero, even below background radiation, unless one paid close attention to the health readout as the deathclaw passed it. Happy that Liberty was still all there, the deathclaw's slit eyes glint inside in looking up at Sachria as he knuckled the flashlight off, "
I check out the bank vault with Sachria.
Deathclaws
strike communist, death barrier breached.
Anchorage will be
a pair of tin snips?
"

His purple head bobbled back and forth above the blue body as he followed the head of the wrench movement, then the momentary tripod bounced on his mighty tail and toes, "
Anchorage
part of the fairy tale squad.
I have seen the dead
bank. Wanna check out the
Somethin' Vinny missed too!
"

He was a good finder! He found all sorts of things for vault america.
 
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Lawrence Rapture
PER: 6 | CHA: 5 | AGI: 6

Fingers out one by one, counting each of the instructions as a point, Law nodded his head. Turrets. Terminals. Ammunition. Well that all sounded easy enough. He could do that no problem. He was good at searching, finding useful scraps and objects of interest. It was one of the things at least that he thought he did best. "I should be able to help with that," he confirmed, "I'm good at scavenging and finding things." That seemed simple enough and, really, he was just happy to have a task he could perform! He was happy to be useful... even if it was among a group of total strangers and a strange talking Deathclaw that...

Now he was staring at Anchorage again. He just couldn't seem to help himself. Every time his eyes drifted, they drifted towards the creature. Of all the things it could possibly have within its little treasure collection, it was fascinating that it had managed to snag a Pip-Boy of all things. Such items were pretty rare, unusual, and honestly only really ever seen on those vault dwellers. Oh, he certainly truly hoped that Anchorage hadn't eaten a random poor soul of a vault dweller to get its claws on that thing!

The only thing that snapped his attention away was a question directed at him, to which he had to shake his head. "Can't say I have one, sorry." He considered, just for a moment, then added, "But there are usually alternatives to... typical tools. If you find the right parts, you can make any tool that you need for any job you can imagine."

Or, in lack of proper parts, having a big deathclaw with razor sharp claws sure ought to do the trick! With a light wave of his hand, he was satisfied enough with having Anchorage here. Bizarre at the creature was, distracting as it could be... Law liked it. Him. He liked him.

Already picking himself back up to his feet, rifle shuffling to rest at his shoulder, he dusted himself off as best as possible. Putting a hell of a lot more time and effort, trying to get every last speck of dirt off that he could possibly remove, he finally asked, "Should we get started then?"
 
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