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*Jim Bob sits in a bar, orders a "drink" (a gallon of 96%) and downs it in one gulp*

Jim Bob: *wipes his mouth* Aaaah!

*Jim Bob takes out one of his .44's and admires it. He sighs*

Jim Bob: *thinks* Hmm. The good ol' days.

*Jim Bob opens the drum of the .44 revealing it to be empty. He sighs again, this time more sadly*

*Turns back to the bartender*

Jim Bob: Another drink.

*sighs again*
 
fang approached Jim Bob. Fang was also in the bar.

"hey," fang said "I was looking for you,"

Jim Bob turned to look at fang. "And you are...?" He asked

"I'm Fang!" he introduced himslef

"Quite a legend around here!" Jim Bob replied

"well yes there was quite a lot of commotion over some of my adventures. But i've heard a lot about you too!" fang said

"ooh?" Was jim Bobs reply

"The Enemy of my Enemy is my friend," Fang said "It works the same as the friend of my friend is my friend. i once met someone who knew you. We left each other however. I miss the old group i used to have. This place is pretty safe. No chance of any danger here. You look pretty depressed yourself. What's up?"

Jim Bob looked Fang in the eyes. fang had been reputed to be super-tall and feroucious in shining power armour. Fang was, indeed tall but not as tall as was made out. He also was wearing a leather jacket as opposed to power armour. Jim Bob began to wonder if the whole Fang thing he'd heard was just a local myth.

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Fang's Web Pages
http://homepage.ntlworld.com/fang
http://www.Egroups.com/group/Fang_BOS

It's only cheating if you get caught
- Fang_Of_the_BOS@hotmail.com
 
[font size=1" color="#FF0000]LAST EDITED ON Feb-12-01 AT 01:59PM (GMT)[p]OOC- I'm new on this board and don't know what OOC means, but I want to try to revive this story.
The name of my character is Louis. He's a jet addict and a drunkard and he's only sociable if he's high on jet.

IC- Louis falls out of his bed. He has a terrible headache, he needs some jet and he needs it now!
He searchs his room for money, but the only thing he finds is his best friend, his Desert Eagle and a bottle of beer. He takes a big gulp and starts to put on his clothes. "Time to get some jet", he thinks. He wents downstairs to the bar. As he enters the bar, his eyes catch a tall man in a shining armor. He hides his gun under his t-shirt and steps toward the man in the shining armor. "Hey Mr!", he shouts.
Fang turns around and sees a shabby man in worn out clothes.
"You sure got some money to buy me a drink, don't you Mr.Shiny armor?"

OOC- My English is not the best, but I think it's good enuf for my character

-------------------------------------
We are from the West. The world we suggest should be of a new wild West, a sensuous, evil world, strange and haunting. The path of the sun.

Jim Morrison
 
OOC - Welcome to the thread. We had given it up but if your willing to post i'll get it started. OOC, means out of character, that means that what your saying is talking to the other people here and isn't happening in the Fallout universe. IC is the opposite, anything IC is happening in the Fallout world. Anyway let's get going

IC - "I suppose i have a little spare change," Fang searches through a few pockets and pulls out a few dirty coins and hands them to the stranger. "Money isn't that inportant to me"

"Anyway your brave disturbing a big steel BOS paladin, Most people are scared of us guys unless they know how friendly we are. Anyway i guess i'll see you around," Fang turns away and resumes his conversation with Jim Bob

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Fang's Web Pages
http://homepage.ntlworld.com/fang
http://pub51.ezboard.com/bfangbos
http://www.Egroups.com/group/Fang_BOS


It's only cheating if you get caught
- Fang_Of_the_BOS@hotmail.com
 
Louis throws the coins away.
"I got no time for your dipshit, Mr. money-isnt-important-for-me." His right hand trembles nervously. Suddenly he discovers Jim Bob. "Hey, Jimmy Bob, why do you hang around with this loser? Oh my god, you look even worse than I do...
You remember the time I saved your ass, Jimmy? Shut down this Junkie. Remember the good old times? Now it's your time to me a little favor... Got some money for me? Jimmy?"
OOC-Is Jim Bob still posting or must somebody else take his part?
-------------------------------------
We are from the West. The world we suggest should be of a new wild West, a sensuous, evil world, strange and haunting. The path of the sun.

Jim Morrison
 
Jim Bob and Fang ignore louis and keep talking. "Aww. fuck!" Louis, very angry, starts to pick up the dirty coins. He buys a beer and drinks it slowly. He's getting now in a very depressive mood. He starts to sing: "Didn't I blow your mind this time. Din't I."
-------------------------------------
We are from the West. The world we suggest should be of a new wild West, a sensuous, evil world, strange and haunting. The path of the sun.

Jim Morrison
 
someone new

ooc-newbie here..please, forgive me if i do anything stupid.

ic-

Bpen walks in, and just misses seeing Fang, since Luis had bumped into him rather roughly. It's good thing he had pick-pocket-proof pockets..

Maybe it was for the better...he didn't want to open old memories..

He found the bar, unattended. With hardly a word, he unslung his pack, walked over to behind the bar, and began pouring a glass of Rotgut into a mug. He mixed it with half a cup of nuka-cola.

"The Pan-American Blaster..", he says out loud.

He looked in utter bliss as he swirled the orangish liquid around, a washcloth in his hand..and a green helmet on his head.

ooc- What? Is it too much description? I'll try to get rid of a mindset.

-----------------------------------------------------------------
http://uro.topcities.com/bpenbp.jpg
~cause anything less than total and utter overkill is a complete waste of time~:D
-it's the freakin' bluepencil!
~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^
 
Someone ELSE new

*a strange man, looking like a tribal Chi mix of, but more tribal, enters, he has a small duffle bag, above it rests a sleeping bag, over his other shoulder is a flamer, over the last stretch of the gun is the pelt of the dog, the mouth is opened at the barrel of the flamer. The man himself has short hair, and has leather armor mkII*

*he looks around, he goes to the bar, and chops up some xander root with a knife at the bar, he rolls it up in some broc flower leaf, and lights it on fire with a zippo. (note this doesn't have a healing effect, just a post nuclear cigarrete). *he orders a beer and sips it slowly, he eyes the junky as he sets his bag down placing it between his legs, his sleeping bag close to him but off slightly to the side, and than he places his knife in his belt*
 
RE: Someone ELSE new

Louis, who left the bar for a few minutes, enters again and goes to back to his chair at the bar, just to discover that someone else has taken place there. He takes the chair next to him.
"Damn, what's goin on here? What are all you gunmen doin here? Hey you, tribal!" Louis looks at the stranger with the leather armor, siiting next to him. "Is there goin to be a party tonight or are you just looking for a waterchip?" Louis laughs and goes back to drinking his beer. "Bartender!", he shouts at Bpen, who stands behind the bar. "Screwdriver." With a meaningful gesture he puts down a lot of coins on the table.
-------------------------------------
We are from the West. The world we suggest should be of a new wild West, a sensuous, evil world, strange and haunting. The path of the sun.

Jim Morrison
 
Scorch

*Scorch looks at the junkie who just called on him, he speaks in a hoarse voice* No, I'm not looking for a water chip, as for partying I'm not in the mood, but forming a party definatly, which way are you heading stranger? *his hand drops to his flame thrower, he he pets the dog pelt wrapped around it*
 
Dutch

*the door yet again swings open, a man in combat armor (minus the helmet) enters slowly, a gold chain hangs around his neck* *he doesn't seem to carry any weaponry with him, though he looks VERY strong and rough aswell* *he walks over to the bar and orders two brahm-burgers and three beers, he pays in one small chunk of gold, and than asks for some information about the town* (which town are we in by the way?) *he looks around for a few seconds as his meal is prepared, oddly after careful examination the only item he has is his armor, a crowbar, and his money/gold chain* *his clothes are very nice pre-war clothing, thus expensive, he looks somehow familiar, perhaps famous to those who've been in New Reno lately, especially to those interested boxing*
 
Bpen wakes up.

[font size=1" color="#FF0000]LAST EDITED ON Feb-21-01 AT 06:28AM (GMT)[p]*All the noise in the bar had woken Bhepin out of his trance. He dug into his pack and took out a PipBoy. It is polished and new..and was making strange sputtering sounds.*

Klamath...no..it's Second Hanging...Arrgh!

*the PipBoy explodes*

Goddamn you, Talus II. *snarls*

*looks down and sees the nugget. He looks around, and sees noone else behind the counter. All seems to be taking it for granted that he was the bartender here. He shugs, then takes the gold and the money. He reaches under the bar, takes out several beer bottles. He looks at the label.*

Dyer??!

*he puts back the bottles and gives a trio of lesser brand beer. He goes over to the ref by the corner and opens it. He takes out several patties of bhramin meat, and a semi-frozen loaf of cornbread. He angles himself so thet whatever he's doing is out of view to the rest of the bar. He lightly toasts the bhramin patties with a modified plasma pistol, and places it between the chilly bread.*

*sighs*

*his gloved hand glow for a while, and the bread he held in his hand heats up.*

Here ya go...*hands the orders down with a smile.*

*He wonders where the REAL bartender was in the first place, anyhow? There were what seems to be...bullet holes behind the counter.*

Anything else?

http://uro.topcities.com/bpenbp.jpg
~cause anything less than total and utter overkill is a complete waste of time~:D
-it's the freakin' bluepencil!
~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^
 
RE: Scorch

Louis notices another man, who just entered the bar. He looks familiar to him, but he can't remember his name. He goes back to talking with Scorch. "Where I'm going to? ... right to hell, I would say..." He hesitates... "Damn, I could really need some help this time... - Where is my screwdriver? BARTENDER! - I bet your pretty good with this flamethrower, right? If you really wanna come with me ... no, no, I don't think you're the right man, you wouldn't like my way of solving problems ... sometimes it's kind of immoral... not the way a righteous man like you would do it. And you are a righteous man, aren't you?

-------------------------------------
We are from the West. The world we suggest should be of a new wild West, a sensuous, evil world, strange and haunting. The path of the sun.

Jim Morrison
 
[font size=1" color="#FF0000]LAST EDITED ON Feb-22-01 AT 03:43AM (GMT)[p]OOC-format change!


::turns to Jim Bob and stares into the old man's glazed eyes::

Old timer? Yoohoo! You awake?

:waves his plate-gloved hand over Jim Bob's face. No reaction.::

::sighs and goes back to behind the bar.::

::touches the bullet hole. Dried blood flakes off.::

I hate unresolved questions.




http://bpen.topcities.com/bpenbosblue.jpg
~cause anything less than total and utter overkill is a complete waste of time~:D
-it's the freakin' bluepencil!
~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^
 
Good

Am I good with a flame thrower? I'm okay, it's Scorch *he pets the fur pelt* He helps me aim it, his spirit. I'm especially good with these *he grabs his duffle bag and opens it revealing a LARGE assortment of grenades, including some dynamite, some C4 cut in smaller portions than they are normally, with timers, and two large mortar shells, also with timers* Morale? Immorale, it all ends up in the same place, corpses rotting in the wastes, and the world proceding to continue revolving? So, where are we going?
 
Dutch

(ooc) Just a note, Scorch and I are brothers IRL (InRealLife) incase you were wondering why our characters always post so closely together (time wise).



(ic)
*looks at Scorch and the junkie* You guys forming a party? Where are you heading? Speaking of which WHAT town is this? *on that note he wanders outside for a moment, and comes back in a second or two* Has anyone noticed everyone around her is either dead *points to the 'tender* or not around? The home are abandoned, but it doesn't seem like a raid, no bullets, bodies, or signs of searching, it looks like people just packed up and left. Maybe we shouldn't stick around, who knows what might be headed this way?

(ooc) Lets get a litle combat in here (obviously) Whoever started this thread oughta add in the badguy, I don't wanna take the credit for a good idea on a thread that isn't mine.
 
It gets creepy..

[font size=1" color="#FF0000]LAST EDITED ON Feb-22-01 AT 08:11AM (GMT)[p]OOC-Okay, but first...the bartender isn't seen to be dead by bar. He's just..not there. Let me explain.. :)

IC

::Bpen rummages down the shelves of the bar.::

Rotgut..there has GOT to be something OTHER than Rotgut in this godforsaken place.

~Try the lower left corner...~, says a voice from over his shoulder.

Ah...Budweiser! Wow! What a find!

::turns::

Thanks..

::the bottle drops to the floor, breaking and spillings its sweet contents. Bpen's jaw hangs slack open::

::the ghost of an old, wiry man grins back at Bpen with a hellish smile. Outside, it is nighfall...and the fading rays of the sun paint the sky blood-red.::

~They're coming..~, the ghost says. ~They won't hurt Jim Bob an' me..but you young'ungs better be ready...~

::the ghost disappears in a flash of blue light::


OOC-

There. Let the action begin.
Or not.


You see..before you guys wanted action I wanted to put in a little mystery..seems like Jim Bob's being served by a ghost bartender..he's been staying here in this old deserted town, with the spirit of his long-dead friend.

Additional datum:
Fang has left, right? Jim Bob is still stoned...and I've got a plasma grenade in my left hand.

Okay..so what should we fight? Aliens? Mutants? Cannibals?


http://bpen.topcities.com/bpen.jpg
~cause anything less than total and utter overkill is a complete waste of time~:D
-it's the freakin' bluepencil!
~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^
 
RE: It gets creepy..

[font size=1" color="#FF0000]LAST EDITED ON Feb-22-01 AT 03:46PM (GMT)[p]OOC- Louis didn't see this ghost. Perhaps it was just BPens imagination

"Did you say ABANDONED?"

*He rans outside on the dusty street*

"What the fuck? Where is this bastard?"

*He looks around hecticly. He seems to be searching for someone*

"It's an ambush", he shouts. "This bastard must have called the rangers!"


*He goes fast back into the bar*

"Don't move!",he shouts. "There are three possibilties... First: One of you has an ememy, who would like to see you dead and who is just waiting outside to blow you away. Second: You're really just here by coincidence and don't know what's going on. Third: You are some kind of Rangers trying to blow ME away."

*He draws his Desert Eagle and aims at the boxer, Bpen and the tribal.*


!IMPORTANT! Insane, seems like if we posts were to close together and you didn't read mine. Please tell me if you'll change yours or if I have to change mine.

-------------------------------------
We are from the West. The world we suggest should be of a new wild West, a sensuous, evil world, strange and haunting. The path of the sun.

Jim Morrison
 
RE: It gets creepy..

OOC-Hope you don't mind someone joining...he an addict and drunkerd but after he "charges up"...hoho...

IC-A man in kelvar with a dirty cape stumbles into the bar. He's swinging his head madly, laughing madly, too.

*Slams a gold nugget on the table*

"Hey bartend! Hehehehe...gimme the strongest you have and...make me a...hehe Metant Cocktail! Me Ravehead wants it now...hehe!"

"Sorry man but we're closed and..." announced Bpen, but something stopped him in the middle.

THUMP!

Something slams on the table again. This time, it's Ravehead.

"Is he dead or what?" asked everyone.
 
Oh, damn.

[font size=1" color="#FF0000]LAST EDITED ON Feb-23-01 AT 01:28AM (GMT)[p]OOC-I'll try to focus more on other's posts...

Bpen backs up..and his hands are rised in front of him in what he hopes to be a peaceful gesture.

"Easy down, people.", he says, his voice frantic. He looks down at the man collapsed over his bar. He's not dead..the blood on his doesn't seem to be his. After all..who had *purple* blood?

But back to more immidiate concerns. There is a guy poiting a high-caliber gun at his head. Well, his suit is made of polymer and stelloid techniques pirated from Enclave suits..and should stop most ballistic attacks. But at this range?

Do ya feel lucky, punk? Well, Bhepin wasn't. He half-cringed as tenson filled the small bar.

"I'm not your enemy. What did you do, anyway?", he said soothingly.

http://bpen.topcities.com/enclave1.jpg
~cause anything less than total and utter overkill is a complete waste of time~:D
-it's the freakin' bluepencil!
~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^
 
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