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Guest
Guest
Hello everybody! I need to get out my frustration over general society so i decided to write this little piece of fanfic. It's supposed to be raw 'n' bloody action all the way through, with juicy combat descriptions.
In the streets of NCR walks a man. The man is stuffed full of guns, they are poking out of his backpack, his pockets, everywhere. He's planning to sell these guns at the arms shop just down the road.
He enters the shop. The clerk looks hungrily at him, like a vulture. It's the second before the clerk drools on the counter.
"Show me what you got! I want guns!" The stranger yells. The clerk jumps but immediately calms down again. It's best to play on this guys terms. This could mean lots of money.
"I SAID SHOW IT TO ME!!!"
"Yes yes, sir. Maybe you should show me what you are planning on paying with first."
The guy takes off his backpack, opens it, and pours the contents on the floor. He then takes several pistols out of his pockets as well as drops all his ammo belts. The process takes around a minute. When he's finished he lifts the weapons up on the counter and yells:
"What can i get for this?!"
"Hmm... let's see..." (the clerk examines the pile thoroughly) "Ah yes, fine, ancient."
"this is mostly shotguns and rifles, do you want to buy some advanced weapons for this?"
"NO!"
"Then what do you want? Money? I don't have all day, person."
"I JUST WANT TO HAVE FUN!!! HAHAHAHA!"
He pulls out a sawn off shotgun, points it at the clerk and pulls the trigger.
When the smoke clears it reveals that the clerk's head has been blown clean(?) off. The killer throws away all his old guns and rummages through the counter. He finds a Bozar, which he straps on his back, a Gauss Rifle which he fastens at his hip, ready to be swung up and fired, a very stylish submachine gun with the magazine behind the grip, it's called the H&K CMP12f, around a dozen plasma grenades and a Ripper. He rummages some more, searching for ammo for the different weapons.
Suddenly, he hears a voice.
"This is the NCR police. Come with me now or i'll have to shoot you. (Which is what we'll do anyway so it doesn't really matter.)
He stands perfectly still.
"Didn't you hear what I said, you crazy bastard? Come NOW!"
Suddenly, he rockets around, his CMP12f at his hip pumping its lethal slugs through the room. He swings a long burst and the bullets are spread around, but because of the high fire rate, the policeman is hit by at least 5 high velocity shots straight in the gut. The AP bullets pass right through the poor sod's intestines and exit out his back, leaving five small 6.14mm bullet wounds.
The unlucky cop drops his assault rifle in pain, looks down at himself, and collapses forward in a lifeless heap, either dead or just fainted.
He walks forward and peeks out the door. Strangely enough it seems like noone have heard the shots. He gets back in and begins organizing his weaponry.
He has no plans for the future, other than to kill whatever he wants to. That is his life. He has no home, he has no name.
But he's got a passion for shooting innocent things.
He decides to refill the 40 round clip of the CMP12f and make every other bullet a JHP and every other bullet an AP. That makes the gun very versatile, and versatility is what you need if you want to get by living in the wastes and killing people.
He now has the following items in his inventory:
Bozar heavy machine gun w/ 500 FMJ rounds
M72 Gauss Rifle w/ 46 shots
H&K CMP12f SMG w/ 375 JHP and 350 AP shots
11 plasma grenades
A Ripper w/ extra energy cells
6 stimpacks
basic first aid equipment
a few field rations
a full canteen of water
There's nothing more for him to do in the NCR. He may be crazy, but he's not stupid. He doesn't believe he can take on the NCR all by himself. He just came here to get some new and exciting armament. He was getting tired of having to reload the same old shotguns again and again.
He's thinking on moving north, towards whatever is up north, and maybe kill someone there too. As said before, that's his life. Kill until you get killed yourself.
He silently makes his way through the on-the-surface-peaceful NCR towards the gate. He greets the guard as he leaves. The guard greets him back.
He whistles to himself as he wanders north in the warm desert sun. This is his lucky day. Imagine all the fun he will have with his new toys...
In the streets of NCR walks a man. The man is stuffed full of guns, they are poking out of his backpack, his pockets, everywhere. He's planning to sell these guns at the arms shop just down the road.
He enters the shop. The clerk looks hungrily at him, like a vulture. It's the second before the clerk drools on the counter.
"Show me what you got! I want guns!" The stranger yells. The clerk jumps but immediately calms down again. It's best to play on this guys terms. This could mean lots of money.
"I SAID SHOW IT TO ME!!!"
"Yes yes, sir. Maybe you should show me what you are planning on paying with first."
The guy takes off his backpack, opens it, and pours the contents on the floor. He then takes several pistols out of his pockets as well as drops all his ammo belts. The process takes around a minute. When he's finished he lifts the weapons up on the counter and yells:
"What can i get for this?!"
"Hmm... let's see..." (the clerk examines the pile thoroughly) "Ah yes, fine, ancient."
"this is mostly shotguns and rifles, do you want to buy some advanced weapons for this?"
"NO!"
"Then what do you want? Money? I don't have all day, person."
"I JUST WANT TO HAVE FUN!!! HAHAHAHA!"
He pulls out a sawn off shotgun, points it at the clerk and pulls the trigger.
When the smoke clears it reveals that the clerk's head has been blown clean(?) off. The killer throws away all his old guns and rummages through the counter. He finds a Bozar, which he straps on his back, a Gauss Rifle which he fastens at his hip, ready to be swung up and fired, a very stylish submachine gun with the magazine behind the grip, it's called the H&K CMP12f, around a dozen plasma grenades and a Ripper. He rummages some more, searching for ammo for the different weapons.
Suddenly, he hears a voice.
"This is the NCR police. Come with me now or i'll have to shoot you. (Which is what we'll do anyway so it doesn't really matter.)
He stands perfectly still.
"Didn't you hear what I said, you crazy bastard? Come NOW!"
Suddenly, he rockets around, his CMP12f at his hip pumping its lethal slugs through the room. He swings a long burst and the bullets are spread around, but because of the high fire rate, the policeman is hit by at least 5 high velocity shots straight in the gut. The AP bullets pass right through the poor sod's intestines and exit out his back, leaving five small 6.14mm bullet wounds.
The unlucky cop drops his assault rifle in pain, looks down at himself, and collapses forward in a lifeless heap, either dead or just fainted.
He walks forward and peeks out the door. Strangely enough it seems like noone have heard the shots. He gets back in and begins organizing his weaponry.
He has no plans for the future, other than to kill whatever he wants to. That is his life. He has no home, he has no name.
But he's got a passion for shooting innocent things.
He decides to refill the 40 round clip of the CMP12f and make every other bullet a JHP and every other bullet an AP. That makes the gun very versatile, and versatility is what you need if you want to get by living in the wastes and killing people.
He now has the following items in his inventory:
Bozar heavy machine gun w/ 500 FMJ rounds
M72 Gauss Rifle w/ 46 shots
H&K CMP12f SMG w/ 375 JHP and 350 AP shots
11 plasma grenades
A Ripper w/ extra energy cells
6 stimpacks
basic first aid equipment
a few field rations
a full canteen of water
There's nothing more for him to do in the NCR. He may be crazy, but he's not stupid. He doesn't believe he can take on the NCR all by himself. He just came here to get some new and exciting armament. He was getting tired of having to reload the same old shotguns again and again.
He's thinking on moving north, towards whatever is up north, and maybe kill someone there too. As said before, that's his life. Kill until you get killed yourself.
He silently makes his way through the on-the-surface-peaceful NCR towards the gate. He greets the guard as he leaves. The guard greets him back.
He whistles to himself as he wanders north in the warm desert sun. This is his lucky day. Imagine all the fun he will have with his new toys...
