In the desert a lone warrior.....

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In the desert there is a warrior who calls himself the BioChemTrooper or his nickname the preacher he is preaching of another armaggedon that will strike the wasteland like a plague of utter proportions. The BioChemTrooper carriers a heavy flamer that has a vibro-blade attached and is 5'11 in height has green hair, with blood red eyes and has an eye patch and a tatto on his forehead that is rubbed out, seems he was a slaver type of person before he was converted, anyoen one standing in his way will be either friend or foe as it seems he has a trail of blood where ever he is... beware or be exterminted.
 
OOC: Is this a new game or just an introduction?

IC: Suddenly a raving dromedary bobbed out of the bushes, wildly rocking its head and possibly farting!!
 
OOC: uh oh.. too little sleep and too much coffee. Sorry for any inconvenience caused.
 
OOC: Welcome BioChemTrooper! This isn’t my normal character (ya well I don’t have a normal character really well maybe Alexia hmm now I’m wandering…)
IC-
Out of the corner of the preacher’s eye he sees a jet black deathclaw wandering through the desert. The deathclaw has an odd mutation; out of his back emerge several spines that glisten in the sun. The deathclaw approaches the preacher with his crimson eyes scanning the weapons he is carrying.
Deathclaw: Greetings my name is Zargish what is yours?
OOC: i don't know enough about your guy to play him i don't know if he would toast the deathclaw or say hello and invite him to tea :)
 
Greeting young one what are you doing in this desert alone do you need assistance, and my name is BioChemTrooper i dont not have a real name. You seem odd for a deathclaw who knows common language, and this is a flamer Zargish.
 
IC-
Zargish- I know what a flamer is my hatchmates have suffred at the hand of many such weapons. My oddities can be explained by the one who called himself The Master. At one time The Master thought he could come up with a super race of deathclaws I'm one such example. I mean you know harm for i hate The Master as much as anybody if not more. Some of my friends have decided to attack humans but i have decided that that would be a bad idea...
 
Attacking any human you come across is bad for some are powerful like the brotherhood of steel, as for me i do not attack creatures who like yourself even though you are dangerous for i have battled more vicious creatures in the wastelands then the deathclaws, but you have this sadness that you lost all your companions to this master, i feel your sorrow but do not feel pity for yourself you have survied and that is all that counts.
 
OOC: I was kinda bored so I desode (decided) to join, if its fine with you guys.

IC:

A lone, and unusually large super-mutant wanders the wastes. A well-used M-60 machinegun rests over his shoulders, kept in place by his right hand. Cross bandoliers envelop him but don't seem to bog him down one bit. In his belt resides a large, slightly bloody stainless bowie knife, two canteens of water and some hunted geckos.

He's just a Mutant like all the other Mutants, left alone after the Master was killed, with nothing except an M-60 and his name to cling to. He set out and found himself enjoying the dangerous, yet oddly careless, life in the wastes.

His name is Riggard, but he prefers to call himself Rig, as that was his nickname in the Master's army. Not that he associates with many humans or has many friends. He only visits civilized places when he's short of ammunition or other supplies, and he prefers living in the wastes.

Suddenly, he hears voices. Puzzled, he walks over a hill top and sees an amazing sight: A speaking deathclaw? And a heavily armed human talking to that deathclaw? He takes down his M-60 and lets it hang down his side by his hand, just in case, before he cries out:

"Hey there, you! What's going on here?"


----
RUNE, the Arch-Norwegian
----

Bush is a chick
Albright's a guy
This poem is sick
And so am I
 
OOC: Its fine dude join as your leasure.

BioChem hears a sound of foot steps in the distance and see a huge mutant carrying a M-60 machine gun, I say halt friend or foe.
 
Rig looks from the flamer-carrying stranger, armored and helmeted like some kind of perverted stormtrooper, to the pitch black, talking, unagressive Deathclaw.

"I don't have a fucking clue," Rig responds.

But he lowers his weapon a bit.

----
RUNE, the Arch-Norwegian
----

Bush is a chick
Albright's a guy
This poem is sick
And so am I
 
Hello my mutant friend i mean you no harm and my name is BioChemTrooper or you can call me the preacher, and this intelligent deathclaw you see is Zargish he to is a surviver of the wasteland like me, but why a super mutant like yourself is not with you fellow brothers. And what is your name my big friend.
 
Rig lowered his weapon completely.

"Call me Rig.

Brothers? I don't have any brothers... oh, you mean... Hey, wake up! The Master died decades ago. I don't want to talk about him. I'm just wandering these wastes here."

Rig flicked the safety on his M-60 off and on again.

"So, if you'll tell me what YOU're doing here...?"

----
RUNE, the Arch-Norwegian
----

Bush is a chick
Albright's a guy
This poem is sick
And so am I
 
I am a wonderer like yourself in this wasteland and im am in need of supplies until i met the deathclaw in the desert, as for you Rig what are you doing here.
 
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