Future Wasteland

(I'll skip this turn for now, I'm lacking any inspiration. :/)

[let's get on with the plotstuffs. All Argus is gonna do is keep running with the rest of the troupe.]

Mitch, feeling himself be picked up and carried along, smirked slightly, before stuffing it away and adopting the necessary blank expression. He relished the sound of the doors opening to allow the foolish guard and himself inside. He hated how he needed to act completely helpless in these situations, but it was an act that requiered the utmost discipline, and he was not going to allow his years of self-training be wasted on an act of laziness. Mitch's memories, supressed with the ethanol he had consumed earlier, came bubbling to the surface, as the chemical's properties required him to be in active motion for the effect to be in place. He had been called upon to use this particular gambit once in the past. He was a few years back from what he was now, but nowhere near as green as he once was. He had to gain access to the mayor of the colony in question, but the only way in was through application of citizenship, followed by years of service in the militia the colony kept to keep people such as him out. After 'coming to' in the infirmary, he snuck his way into the mayor's dark, empty office and waited. Propping his feet up on his desk, and sitting in his obviously stolen pre-war chair, Mitch took a cigar from the desk and smoked it, casually holding it between his teeth as he waited for the poor fool to enter his office.

Two cigars later, the mayor entered, and began shaking his head slowly. "I take it you're here to kill me?" He asked sadly, a depth of sorrow evident in his eyes. "No, I'm here for the water chip. But, since you suggested it, yes, I shall kill you. It will be a perfect distraction." Mitch replied coolly, his goggles covering his eyes and lending him a certain malevolent air. "I knew it would come eventually. Please, make it quick; I don't want to see my people suffer, and I wish to die before they do. I wish to find peace for once." The mayor replied again, proffering his wrists towards his killer. Mitch nodded curtly, rose, and took out the kukri he had recently obtained. "Just business, sir. I hope you have a pleasent afterlife." Mitch spoke in a businesslike tone, before cutting the man's wrists wide open. He helped the man sit in his office chair, lit a cigar, and put it in his mouth. "I hope this isn't too unpleasent for you, sir. I wasn't told to directly kill anyone, and I've been feeling a bit, shall we say, pacifistic of late." Mitch said over his shoulder as he strode for the office door, absently wiping his blade off on a coat hung on a hook. "Comrade, nothing about death is unpleasent to me at this point. It shall be a well-earned rest." The mayor replied around his cigar. "I should hope so. You'll bleed out in another fifteen minutes. There's no help for you, so just sit here and wait, alright? I'll just take the chip, return to my employer, and be on my merry way." Mitch said coldly, before slamming the office door closed behind him.

The populace of the colony was devastated; their beloved leader, dead, with a bemused grin on his face and a stub of a cigar in his mouth. They didn't notice the chip was missing until a day later, when the water came up irradiated. By then, it was too late; Mitch had already set out for his next bout of wandering, which ultimately ended up with him at the Norman Raider's Riverwalk encampment.

Mitchh shuddered slightly as the memory invaded his mind, despite his best efforts to avoid doing so. He did not yet grasp why the human spirit was able to give itself up so readily, as both his mother and the mayor of the town did. It disgusted him, the lack of self preservation in both cases, but alas, it was beyond his control.

The Guard would carry Mitch all the way to the UVB infirmary where Jack's father, leader and doctor of the UVB, would be running in-between patients. The Guard would Carry Mitch Close to John Parker while he was busy checking a patients blood pressure. He was completely distort at the moment with all the people currently in the infirmary due to the last Raid caused by the Normans. He saw the guard coming holding the sickly looking Mitch and sighed rubbing his eyes with his fingers.

"Sir This man is in need of Medical help he passed out in front of the UVB." The guard said. Jumping lightly to get more of mitch to lean on him when he was about to loose his grip. John shook his head and glared at the guard pointing at how the infirmary was full with the UVBers at the moment.

"Do you not see I kinda have my hands full at the moment! There isn't enough room here for him. And where is Jack I could use his help!" John asked writing some notes on a clipboard then handed it off to a nurse.

The Guard gulped and sighed. He couldn't lie to the UVB's beloved leader who was obviously very stressed. "Jack left a few days ago."

Left! Jack left the UVB? John knew something like this was going to happen, but he didn't want to believe it. John looked worried for his son and shook his head and rubbed his hand through his hair. "Get the man to one of the UVB holding cells...we'll keep him in there until I have time to look at him." he said. John had no words at the moment all he could do was hope that his Son would make it back safe.

The guard nodded as he carried Mitch off to the near by UVB holding cells where he would throw him in it and close the door behind him when he left. The Doors locking when the door shut.

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After a few hours of walking and moments where the group would jog to get a bit more distance between them and the Norman Raiders, they would finally come to the UVB. Jack would view from a hunting rifle scope. He would smile and looked at the other two. "This is it were finally here, so lets go in and oh give my dad the bad news." he said. He then let that though soak in and sighed looking at the ground. how was he going to tell his father and the leader of the UVB that he left and only made things worse for everyone.

Jenna advanced, holding her gun firmly. The raiders were still far, luckily for the trio, but where was the UVB? Jack stpped and use the scope from his rifle to ake a look, saying they were arrived. Jen was relieved, she would be able to have some rest. She was a pretty fit woman but they advanced non-stop for a while and she was getting tired. Even though she acted like a man, she still had the need to bathe and relax. She had walked for days before arriving to the Normans' place, without a bath and clean clothes. It was of course a lot to ask in this kind of world but Jen was fed-up, even though she didn't say a word about it. She learned not to complain anyway, since luxury was a thing of the past. She continued walking, following Jack. The rest was a few minutes' walk away.

-Hope your father and the gang are well-prepared for raiders, this won't be pretty.

Sullivan took a look behind her. The Normans were still far but they managed to get a bit closer. No immediate danger but the UVB wouldn't have much time to prepare and the trio would barely be able to rest. Still, everyone continued on, Jenna kept her mind ready for the battle that would come. She still had some ammo but having a bit more would certainly help, unless she could find other weapons. The knife wouldn't be especially useful if it broke into a big gunfight. When they arrived at the UVB entrance, Jenna preferred to let Jack do the talking, which would be the wisest choice.

The masked man seemed only mildly tired from the jog, even with that heavy coat that looked like it held many heavy things. He was an absurd person indeed. He seemed indifferent to Jacks delightful comment that they had reached the UVB and the small comforts within it. But he also didn't have much of a face to express emotion with. He just grunted and walked after them when they started moving again.

Once the door of the holding cell clicked closed, Mitch sprang back to 'consciousness'. "Alright, so stage one is complete. Now that I'm in the damned UVB, where should I go from here?" He muttered to himself, patting his pockets for the guitar strings he kept for situations such as these. Upon locating them in his rear pocket, he began pacing to keep the memories from his mind, removing them and bending the high e string double to provide more strength. Pacing towards the door, his heart dropped; the lock was not pickable. In the past, some solitary vagabond with more ambition than sense attempted to break out with what appeared to be a bobby pin, and some scratches indicated a screwdriver was used as well. Slamming his fist against the door in frustration, he yelled slightly, trying to express the rage he felt at the unpickable lock. "That's fantastic. Who the hell picks locks with a bobby pin and a damn scredriver?!" He yelled, walking away and glancing around for anything of potential use. He slouched against the wall opposite the door, downtrodden at his sudden predicament, when inspiration struck. "Why not," He thought aloud, twiddling the bent wire between his fingers. "Hook the bent end around this cable and try and fish it out that way?" He rose after this, striding towards the door with an air of purpose, slouching to look closely at the offending lock. Poking the looped end of the wire around for a bit, he hooked it on the bent, broken end. Twisting the cable to provide more leverage, he dragged the broken scrap out of the destroyed lock, before staring at it once more. "It's hopeless; the damned lock on this side is a red herring. Why would they let a lock be easily picked by the occupant, if the cell was intended to keep them away from the vault proper? Fantastic, Mitch; you just wasted our time." He muttered again, throwing the useless scrap away and plopping onto the floor. Surprisingly, the memories didn't overtake him. "Small victory, I guess. Only thing left is to try and overpower whomever tries to gather me up for examination." He muttered bleakly to himself.