Say goodbye to New Houston

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*Jim Bob enters the bar. His modified .44 Magnum revolvers clack at his hips as he walks towards the barkeep. The 'tender looks up from his dishcloth.*

Jim Bob: Gimme... gimme a mug o' pure 96%.

*the barkeep nods knowingly, he's had enough of these fates in his bar. He pulls out a gas can with Arkansas-wine (class vintage) from under the bar and fills up a huge tumbler. Jim Bob picks up the mug, looks at it for a moment, then empties it in one swig. The intake of such amounts of alcohol would probably kill a normal man, but Jim Bob... isn't a normal man.*

Jim Bob: Ahhhhhh... *sighs with pleasure and sits down on a stool*

Barkeep: That'll be $35.

*Jim Bob turns to the barkeep, takes a gold nugget the size of a plum out of his pocket and slaps it on the bar.*

Jim Bob: Straight from Redding. Keep the change.

*the barkeep blinks in amazement, but thanks Jim Bob nonetheless*

*Jim Bob relaxes back on the stool, looking around the room. Then suddenly, he recognizes a well-known face.*

Jim Bob: *stands up* Hey! If it isn't...
 
.......Reptile! Godd to see u man...
Reptile: he hows it going u rusty old piese of ***
Jim Bob: Fine Thanks what have u been up to.....
Reptile: aaah its a long story.... i'll tell u later...... hey can i get something to drink in here *goes to the barkeep and gets an Finlandia Vodka hands over some money....*
what are u up to this time man.... u allways seem to have something new to do......

*reptile Draws a Desert Eagle and an H&K MP5K 10mm Smg and start reloading them.......*
 
Jim Bob: Hey put down those guns man, the barkeep's lookin' strangely at us... Anyway, I'm actually on vacation here. Just relaxin'. This seems like a nice town to cool down in, don't ya think? Funny meetin' you here, all that's missin' now is Smaug... you wouldn't happen to have seen him lately?

*just then, a guy in metal armor who has been looking at them from a corner during the entire conversation, stands up and leaves the bar hurriedly.*

Reptile: Smaug? well...
 
*The two turn at the sound of footsteps entering the bar. Smaug, now dressed in a long black trenchcoat, walks up to them*

Smaug: Did I hear my name mentioned?

Jim Bob: Smaug! Haha!

Smaug: How's it goin' Jim Bob? Hey, Reptile! What's up?

*Smaug brushes the dust from his coat, orders a drink, and sits down like it's the first time he has in a long time*

Smaug: So, what ya been doing lately?
 
[font size=1" color="#FF0000]LAST EDITED ON Oct-03-00 AT 01:41PM (GMT)[p]
 
Jim Bob: Good to see ya, old pal! We're not doing much really... I'm taking a vacation, there's not much happening around. I drove into this village just around an hour ago, looked like a nice place to 'lax. *snickers* I went straight to the bar, needed a drink after all the raiders on the way in. I don't even know what this town's called!

*the bartender suddenly shoots in the conversation*: You're in the city of Yellowrange, misters. This bar's The Red Mantis, if ya didn't notice. And.. *turns angrily to Reptile* Stop fiddling with those guns, ya hear, or I'll blow them out of yer hands! *knocks under the bar, presumably at a shotgun*

Jim Bob: Put them down, Reptile! They don't like guns here, it seems. *to the bartender* He doesn't mean to shoot anyone, no danger. Anyway, thanks for the information. And when I came here, it seemed like there were unusually many raiders around this town? Do you have a raider problem or something?

Bartender: Well, there are raiders around here, i think, but they've never bothered me. I don't know, I don't get out much. Maybe you should ask the mayor about that. Or the sheriff.
 
Reptile: Why not go to talk to them then?
and for u * rolls his guns around his fingers and throws them upp they land in the holsters in the best cowboy style* he says to the barkeep.....
Jim Bob: yeah some action would be fun....
Smaug: what are u waiting for....
Reptile: Lets go *stand up*........
 
Jim Bob: Yeah, okay. My ass is itchin' anyway.

*As they exit the bar the bartender scowlingly returns to washing the dish, mumbling something about "damn kids"*

*They get out in the dim afternoon. The city looks like your standard post-war western town, with a hotel, a city hall, a gunshop, the bar and various other buildings.*

Jim Bob: *points to a small building with grated windows* That looks like the sheriff's place. Let's go there.

*They walk towards the jail/police station, Jim Bob is whistling, Smaug walks silently with his long coat scraping along the ground, and Reptile is whirling his guns around like crazy.*
 
Main street.

[font size=1" color="#FF0000]LAST EDITED ON Oct-04-00 AT 09:09AM (GMT)[p]OOC: I had this idea about not posting in multiple threads, but what the hell.

*Ceasar spots at least two familiar looking faces, and walkes towards the men*

Ceasar- Hi !
Reptile- Hey, it's Ceasar. How did you end up here ?
Ceasar- Well, I got a bit tired of the good cause, so I decided to take some time off. The best thing I could think of was getting as far away from those places, and I ran into this town. A lot of raiders around, though. I need some ammo. (to Jim Bob) I don't believe I met you before, My name's Ceasar.
 
RE: Main street.

OOC: We're trying to keep this thread as isolated from other threads as possible, so i don't think it's a problem.

IC:

Jim Bob: Hello... Ceaesaer?

Caesar: Actually, my name is Ceasar.

Jim Bob: Isn't that what I said? Oh, never mind. I'm Jim Bob, New Arkansas State Guard currently on leave. I see Smaug and Reptile don't need introduction. A lot of raiders, you said? We found out that too, so we're headed to the sheriff. It seems the town has a serious raider problem. You said you need ammo? I got a whole pickup full by the gates, but it depends on what ammo type you need. Just join us to the sheriff's office and we'll work things out.
 
RE: Main street.

In the outskirts of the town a man driving an old GM Shadow stops just outside the makeshift city walls. Reaching with one hand into the hole what might've once been a glove compartment, he looks at the crude wooden sign above the city gates.

"Welcome to Yellowrange"

The two guards standing watch eye him suspiciously but don't say anything as he drives into the town and casually parks next to a burnt-out derelict building. Slamming the doors closed, he reaches into the back seat and picks up a small bag, which clanks strangely, as well as a leather torso armor with several crudely patched holes. As he walks down the street, eyes scanning a potential weapons store, he notices a small group of people talking to each other as they head towards the Sheriff's office. Several of the voices sound vaguely familiar, but it is only after one of figures turns his head he shouts.

"Hey! Caesar! Reptile!"

"Hey, Quinch! What brings you to this part of the world?", Caesar says, grinning.

"Just wandering, I suppose. What are you doing way out here?"

"I came here for a vacation. Seems it just got cancelled, though, this town's got a major vermin problem."

Quinch nods and glances at the sack he's carrying. "Raiders. I ran into a couple on the way here, but I thought it was just a small gang." He nods at the Sheriff's office. "You headed lawways? If you want, I can lend a hand."
 
RE: Main street.

Jim Bob: More company! Great, we'll prolly need all the help we can get. I'm Jim Bob. Just tag along the crowd.

*they (finally) reach the police station, and Jim Bob opens the door. Inside, two empty jail cages line the back wall. The sheriff sits on his desk, bent over some papers, and his deputy stands leaning to the wall. The sheriff looks up when the door opens.*

Sheriff: Can't you see I'm busy?

Jim Bob: We heard you need help with some raiders?

Sheriff: *lights up* Sure as hell we do! What do you need to know?

Jim Bob: Well, where's their base?

Sheriff: If only we knew that...

Deputy: We don't know, but it's someplace east of town, cuz' all the attacks have been coming from that direction. We've pinpointed a circa location. Here.

*the deputy takes out a map from the bookshelf and shows the group a red circle, some tiles to the right of the dot that is Yellowrange*

Deputy: We believe their base is somewhere inside this circle. But it's a pretty big area to cover.

Sheriff: And those bastards have taken nearly all of our men in their raids. Luckily, we have enough ammo to keep them at bay for at least another month. There's only me, Jackson *he nods to the deputy* and the two gate guards left here, so we've been unable to mount an assault. But if you're interested, you're more than welcome to try.

Jim Bob: Covering that whole circle would take many days. Haven't you tried capturing and interrogatin' a raider to find out where the base is?

Sheriff: Of course we've tried that! But we haven't succeded. *nods to the empty jail cells* The bastards'll rather kill themselves than be captured, it seems. And it's been nearly a week since the last raid now. Bet they're plannin' for something big.

Jim Bob: I think we'll try to capture a raider. What do you say, guys?
 
Lock and load

Ceasar : Let's get to it ! But before we do that, I'd like to get my hands on some .223 ammo. I think I need about a hundred rounds.

Sheriff : I think I can get you that, wait a minute... *searches an old bookshelf* Aha, here you go. *hands Ceasar a box of 75 .223 bullets*

Ceasar : Thanks.

Sheriff: Here's another thing. *hands everyone in the group a deputy's badge (the star-shaped one)* Now you are official Yellowrange law enforcers.

Ceasar : Well, I'll just consider this paid vacation.

Sheriff: What do you mean ?! This isn't gonna be a walk in the park.

Ceasar: If you kill bad guys for a living, raiders tend to be not so tough. Especially if the people you nowmally kill wear Combat armour at worst.

Sheriff: Well, you'll find out soon enough. I think I'll just leave you guys to your work. Keep me informed.

Quinch: We'll do that. See ya !

Sheriff: Good luck.
 
RE: Lock and load

*Smaug scratches a scar that's on on his left cheek and turns around*

Smaug: Right! Let's get ourselves a raider, then!

*Starts for the door, but turns to Quinch*

Smaug: Oh, I don't think we've met. I'm Smaug, good to meet you.

Ceaser: Right, let's go.
 
RE: Lock and load

Jim Bob: Ok, maybe we should split up. I've got my pickup, you've got your car, Smaug, and so do you, Quinch. And Caesar, you've got a bike, if I heard right? Reptile, do you have something that drives?

Reptile: Umm no, but maybe i could borrow something here.

Jim Bob: *looks around the town* I don't see many auto shops around here. You can ride with me.

Reptile: ok i guess

Jim Bob: Yup. *to everyone* Okay then, maybe we should decide who drives where. It's most probable that we find raiders to the east. Me and Reptile will take the straight-east route. Who wants to go the other directions?
 
RE: Lock and load

Smaug: i can go more to north then.....
Qinsh: i did run into a pack of them to the South...... so i'll make a try there....
Caesar: my bike is surly faster then the cars so i'll rty to round them then...

Jim Bob: Is that Ok... then...
Reptile Yes lets go for some Raider hunting *he picks upp a short rope and a stone and fastens the stone tho the end of the rope*
Smaug what will u need that for.....
Reptile this thingie can fly fucking fast AND it is Nonleathal.....

The group are heading out.... towards the raider camp to try to capture a raider somevere there.....
 
RE: Lock and load

Quinch strides to the back of his car and, opening the trunk unceremoniously throws the bag inside. He reaches inside and pulls out a sniper rifle with a small crate of ammo, as well as three radios.

"Here," he says, tossing one to Smaug and Jim Bob. "Might be useful," he says as he holsters the sniper and closes the trunk.

He pulls the badge from his pocket and looks at it, constantly turning it around in his hand. "As the deputy said, that is a big area to cover." He puts the badge back in his pocket. "So I suggest we split into two, three groups at most. The radios will help us keep in touch, and there's a built-in tracker in each one, so if one group runs in trouble, others will know where they are." He prods at the ground with the tip of his shoe, trying to excavate a small rock wedged in the parched soil.

"But there are a few things that bother me."

Jim Bob looks at him. "Oh yeah? Like what?"

Quinch finally digs out the stone and kicks it away.

"Like the fact they haven't managed to capture a single raider alive. I'm sure you've dealt with enough of them to know loyalty isn't the foremost thing in their minds. Most raiders would sell their own grandmothers if it would mean they'd have a chance to save thrie hides, let alone their gang. And if they really kill themselves, like the sheriff said... well, it doesn't fit. And that worries me. A lot. More than the fact that one of those raiders was packing a plasma pistol."

"A *what*?"

"Plasma pistol. You know wha...."

"Yes, we all know what it is, but..."

"Exactly. It's not the kind of weapon you'll expect a raider to carry. Hell, it's not something I'd expect someone like them to know how to load, let alone clean and maintain. Which they had. I checked. Third, this town isn't new San Fran, but if those four are the only law force left, they must've had some heavy casualties. Heavier than a gang of raiders should be able to inflict. Meaning...." He looks at the horizon. "This may not be what it looks like. And I think the sheriff knows that. Call it a hunch if you will, but by now I've learned to rely on hunches. And I think the guy is holding out on us."
 
RE: Lock and load

[font size=1" color="#FF0000]LAST EDITED ON Oct-05-00 AT 05:11PM (GMT)[p]OOC - Why would you want to rewrite that ?

Ceasar - Well, they must be real though to take a well aimed shot from this *pats his .223 pistol* and live. Hey, that gives me an idea. I'll get myself a cattle prod, cause, like Jim Bob said, they ain't useful dead. You go ahead.

*the group leaves, heading in several directions*

Ceasar (thinking) - What the hell did I get myself into now ? Oh well, I've survived worse than this...

Ceasar heads for the gunshop, thinking of the times he got himself into trouble....

(In the gunshop)

Ceasar - Hi ! I need a cattle prod.
Woman behind the counter- We don't have any.
C- Do you have any other non-lethal weapons ?
W- Why would you want a weapon that doesn't kill ?
C- Nevermind.. *starts to leave the shop*
W- Hey, wait. I think I have something for you..
C- What's that ?
W- It's a pre-war thing. The called it a taser.
C- What does it do ?
W- You can hit someone with this over a distance of about 10 meters. It gives the person an elektrical shock, so hard he can't walk for the next hour or so. It runs on small energy cells
C- Cool, I'll take it.
W- $1000,-

The dialogue continues for another 10 minutes, and Ceasar walks out of the gunshop with his taser, 10 SEC's and $850,- lighter.

Ceasar (thinking)- Ok, let's nail those suckers. *kickstarts his bike and leaves the town with a cloud of dust behind him*
 
RE: As u say it

[font size=1" color="#FF0000]LAST EDITED ON Oct-05-00 AT 05:16PM (GMT)[p]Reptile: i'll hope that they arent that many after all we dont have any heavy weapons i did leave my Gausspistols in NTA....

Jim Bob: dont care for them we'll make it after we have gone throug much worser things......

Reptile HEll yes!!! *start Smilening and checking his inventory*

*reptile Checks his not that big arsenal 2 Desert Eagles a Few clips each A MP5K Smg and aroun 120 10mm Rounds..... and a Combatknife a pair of grenades and a standard Scoped Hunting Rifle and 25 .223 Rounds........*
 
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