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James Harrison Card

"I've fought enough to know how this will throw down, son."

0 · 706 views · located in Chicago Wasteland

a character in “Fallout: The Radiated Tales”, as played by Shadow44499

Description

Name: James Harrison Card

Species: Human

Age: 47

Looks: James is a heavy built man, 6'3" in height without his armor. (6'4" with.) And about 240 pounds in weight. He wears his Enclave Mk 2 power armor. Its different than most it has an olive green stripe going down the front with an American flag painted on the left side of the breast plate, the wolf like helmet painted to actually look like a wolf with its maw open. One of the shoulder pads replaced with a T-51b shoulder pad due to extensive damage and lack of parts. The armor is pretty much very much personalized. Underneath the helmet he has no hair, went bald in his late thirties and has dark green eyes with a large scar going down his face.

Strength:8 (+1)
Perception:3
Endurance:10
Charisma:6
Intelligence:7
Agility:3 (-1)
Luck:3

(Agility and Strength modifications due to armor.)

Perks: Power Armor Training, Weapon Handling.

Skills: Guns, Melee, Repair.

Personality

James was once a high-patriotic soldier of the Enclave. Now he is a older hot tempered mercenary, he is quick to anger always been. Added onto that he is intelligent, and highly enduring to his years of combat. He enjoys to be quiet, letting his actions speak rather than his words. Due to his training he can be a hardass, always forcing people along,keeping the grunts in check. During his deployment in the Capitol Wasteland he learned to be merciless fighting the BoS, offering no parry and expecting none. The man is also brave, a fighter, when afraid, he holds his ground and fights instead of fleeing, also attributing to his training.

Equipment

Image

-A factory new set of Mk 2 Enclave Armor. Effects: +1 Strength, -1 Agility, 15% Radiation Resistance. Armor DR: 40

Added onto his power armor he carries a minigun, lugging the thing and its ammo crate around on his back. Around his hip is is second weapon a trusty combat knife, he has modded with a reinforced blade and painted black, naming it America's Fang. Tapped the ammo crate of the mini gun is a small metal box containing food, duct tape, water bottles, and 2 stim-packs. James has around 100 caps in various currencies.

History

James has a long history of combat. As a boy he was raised within the Enclave, happy, go lucky, a patriot, etc etc. He grew up and trained to become a soldier, specializing in heavy conventional weapons. During his time with the Enclave he fought against the Brotherhood of Steel in multiple skirmishes across Capitol Wasteland and at the Jefferson Memorial, still saying he engaged but was pushed back by the Lone Wander himself into retreat. He then fought alongside the Enclave Remnants against the Brotherhood again, barely escaping the Relay Station alive. After that he moved west, to New Vegas, there he fought along side The Legion has a hired Mercenary, engaging both the NCR and his old enemies the Brotherhood on one occasion in the Mojave. He participated as a support gunner in the Battle of the Hoover Damn for the Legion, targeting the NCR heavy troops and dropping as many as he could before retreating injured. Do to all this conflict he has a burning hate for the both the NCR and Brotherhood of Steel, neutral towards the Legion but accepted among their camps. After that he wandered from tribe to tribe within The Legion working for them, gaining prestige among the many various sub-factions in the Legion. He the got wind of the deal of a lifetime, of course, it was back to the war path, back to battlefield. This time, the destination, Chicago.

So begins...

James Harrison Card's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: James Harrison Card Character Portrait: Edger the drifter Character Portrait: Yen Daniel Dangtran Character Portrait: Xander Coltman Character Portrait: John Kenit Character Portrait:
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Xander noted the sign above the bartenders' head, "Capone's Den." He shook his head and look at his partners in this expedition. The faces were varying and name didn't stick to him. The rest of the burned bar was thick with cigarette smoke and the smell of dried blood. The bartender was a ghoul with what looked to be a scowl on his face. The rest of the patrons were sitting among themselves. He raised his hand and said, "Hey leather face, Get me a Nuka-Cola for me and my friends here." The ghoul sneered at him grumbled something about smooth skins. Xander had caught it, but he wasn't going to do anything. He looked over and saw the disgusted look on one of his companions faces. A ghoul was joining them. He wanted to defend himself of why he calls them leather faces. It was his way of saying sooth skin. It wasn't like he was calling him a zombie or anything. The term was just a way of describing how ghouls faces look.

When the ghoul came with the drinks, Xander paid the man. With that the ghoul walked away. "So, seeings how we each have different skills and backgrounds, lets figure out who will fill each role of this lovely little gang were in. I'm a sniper born and raised, I've also have a background in dealing with serious and minor wounds, you get hurt come to me. I don't come to you." He popped the cap off of the bottle and put in his pocket. He sipped the radiated drink and was filled with warmth and energy, "Also, I know some about about computers. So getting by any locked computers should really be a problem." He sat back and waited for the rest of the crew to spell out what they can do.

There was no doubt in his mind that some people were better at things than him. Like being the tech guy or the medic. He was sure there was guys ten times better at those skills then him. Sniping, however, he had almost everybody beat. He could shoot a bottle cap from almost a quarter mile away. His eyes wandered back to his companions. One ghoul, check. One Enclave bitch, check. One misshapen 'human' check. One guy in combat armor, check. Xander wanted to say the guy was once a BoS member. Due to the scratches on the dudes armor. He could faintly make out the insignia. It wasn't blatantly obvious, his guess was he was ashamed of being a BoS member. He was jumping to conclusions before he even knew these people. He shrugged off everything and took another drink of his soda. It was refreshing. He just remembered he didn't say his name, "Oh, the names Alexander, people just call me Xander though."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: James Harrison Card Character Portrait: Edger the drifter Character Portrait: Yen Daniel Dangtran Character Portrait: Xander Coltman Character Portrait: John Kenit Character Portrait:
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After listening to Xander, John stands up. "My name is John", he stated while looking over everyone, "and i have a problem". He scans over the faces of the others after making his comment and shakes his head. "Its a pre-war joke. They used to say it in AA...Anyone get it? No?" He sat back down. "Alright, tough crowd. I shoot things, stab things, hit things, and occasionally say something funny."He pauses for a moment and then looks up. "But enough about me, who's next?" He then points at the robed mass that looks strangely inhuman. " Is it the Hunchback of Notre Dame? I see you kept your bed sheet on. It uh...it looks great, might start a new tend in this shithole." He then looks over at the ghoul. " Will the Chinese Ghoul be the next to speak ? Or at least i think you're Chinese, kinda hard to tell with all the", as he points to the man's ghoul features"...well, you know." He then glances over at the Enclave Soldier. "Have we met? You look very familiar, although I guess you all look the same." His voice loses the smartass energy. "Last time i saw one of your kind you guys were opening fire on innocent civilians, killed a woman and her child. But hey, what else is new right?"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: James Harrison Card Character Portrait: Edger the drifter Character Portrait: Yen Daniel Dangtran Character Portrait: Xander Coltman Character Portrait: John Kenit Character Portrait:
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James made a gruff slash growling noise as he was addressed by the former Brotherhood member, able to spot the remnants of that insignia anywhere. "I assure if we met you wouldn't be talking, your Brotherhood, you stand in the way of progress, as do vault dwellers," he motioned to the pip-boy, "mutants." He then motioned to the ghoul. "And if you saw us killing women and children they too stood in the way of progress and were necessary loses." He then removed his helmet, placing it as his side before taking a swig of the nuka-cola and looking back at John. It would be easy to tell his age, considering the hue of his eyes and the baldness that plagued his head. "You can call me James, or Sergeant if you wanted to." He quickly finished the nuka-cola off before placing his helmet on with a click. "Pity.... A Brotherhood lackey without his shiny armor... Not much of a Paladin." He grinned under the helmet, intentionally trying to anger John. "Listen, I'll help you as long as there is a common goal, but once this is over, your all enemies of the Enclave. And I'll treat you as such." He chuckled under the helmet, his voice being deepened and more uniformed by the voice receptors within the helmet. "Now for my skill set... I wear this..." He patted his disfigured left shoulder pad, which used to belong to the Brotherhood, signaling to his power armor. "And I have this." He patted the giant custom painted mini-gun on his lap. "I can keep you covered while you push up, also deal with heavy armed enemies with less of a chance of bodily injury. I'm also not bad with a wrench and toolkit." He gave a nod before looking back and forth between the two. "Also if we had a verta-bird, which we don't and I doubt we can get one, I have basic training and experience flying them, all Enclave members do, nothing but a useless skill now. But just to let you know." A smile crossed his face, not that any of them could see it under his helmet.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: James Harrison Card Character Portrait: Edger the drifter Character Portrait: Yen Daniel Dangtran Character Portrait: Xander Coltman Character Portrait: John Kenit Character Portrait:
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#, as written by Raidose
Yes, I'm nervous..... Terribly, terribly, dreadfully nervous.... but why would you say I'm mad?! Or a guy that's read 'A telltale heart' too many times? Though I suppose those are better than the alternative of them saying I'm not human, Edger thought to himself. He tried to keep his thoughts racing as fast as possible, hoping that it may calm him down. His logic told him that this plan wouldn't succeed, but that's never stopped wishful thinking. To say he was out of place here would have been a grave understatement. This was a mercenaries job. Edger certainly was no mercenary. Perhaps he might steady his nerves if he could sit down. Though, much to his disappointment, a closer examination showed that many of the bar stools wouldn't support his weight. And what if my feet showed? Or my tail poked through the fabric? There are an infinite number of things that could go wrong right now. My kingdom for a stealthboy. Maybe I should just get up and leave?

Edger was all but ready to simply walk out. His robe limiting his vision to a few feet of floor in front of him. He tightend his tale around his legs, squeezing them together. Taking in light breaths, he was committed to cutting his losses and pulling out. No one had addressed him as of yet, so maybe he could simply waltz out just as he came. "Hey leather face, Get me a Nuka-Cola for me and my friends here." Too late.... Edger turned towards the bar as the some-what aggravated bartender slammed his Nuka-Cola on the counter. The liquid inside the bottle splashed and sloshed around. No fizz, no carbonation. Flat as a Legion Denarius. Goody. While Edger couldn't enjoy his new "companion's" kind offering on the spot, he used his robe-covered claw to knock the bottle neatly into his pocket.

At that point, the mysterious fellow, "Xander", introduced himself and initiated some sort of show-and-tell over each of their individual skill sets. Edger immediately didn't want to be the last one to talk, as that would draw the attention of the entire room onto him. That would be bad. On the other hand, blurting out something before anyone else would also put him in the spot light, which was also bad. Simply being the second or third to speak was his best choice. A long pause ensued, which only served to further shake Ed's nerves. "My name is John," one figured finally uttered. Oh thank you, God Edger thought to himself, embracing the wave of relief washing over him. "And i have a problem". No one else in the room seemed to get it, but Edger had to suppress a chuckle.

I may come to like this one. Que the crack about Quasimodo. Okay, on the upside, he knows some pre-war bits of knowledge and might be a source of good conversation on this little venture or ours. On the down, he's a bit of an ass. Edger frowned a bit at the soldiers next comment. "Will the Chinese Ghoul be the next to speak ? Or at least i think you're Chinese, kinda hard to tell with all the ...well, you know." Oh, my mistake, a racial ass. Edger decided to let one more speak before him, biding his time. An ex-Enclave soldier appeared to only view the group as temporary allies, and threatened treat them as "enemies of the Enclave" at the moment of this contracts completion. Given a proper chance, Edger might insure this murderer get's quite a rude awakening. Ed held little remorse for someone like this man. One less Enclave might make the world a safer place.

Sensing that now would be as good as time as any, Edger began his introduction. He took in a breath, and began working up the nerve to speak. "Well, where to begin?" Edger's voice came out slightly off, carrying a mild rasp and bordering on switching tones. This scene made him incredibly uncomfortable, which in turn affected his ability to vocalize. "I suppose I should start with my name? It's a pleasure to meet all of you, I am Edger. Tour guide, pre-war expert, linguist, friend to most the of trade caravans in these parts, and generally a good listener. I'm aware of most of the raider and slaver camps in the area, and the sparse NCR checkpoints along the way. The trade routes around here are our safest means of travel, and I know some of the best. I can also translate three other languages. Namely Spanish, Chinese, and Latin. But I may be used as a source of pleasurable conversation, as well."

Edger lowered his head a bit, and could feel their gaze drifting over him. "As I'm sure some of you have noticed, I have a bit of a...... condition. Hardly noticeable, I know. In fact, I'd like to think of it as almost benign. You needn't worry, it's not contagious, nor does it make me a cannibalistic mutant when the sun goes down. All I'd ask of you fine folks is to keep the comments amongst yourselves. Trust me, your not going to think of something I haven't heard before." Edger finished his little speech, and took one more deep breath. It took everything he had to keep from noticeably shaking. He shirked away from the group a bit, and closer to the darkened area of the bar. He had noticed how the pip-boy wearing "Xander" had been staring at him, which made his nerves all the more unstable. The only thing that worried him more was the intimidating figure in the Enclave power armor, with the large-boar gatling gun resting beside him.

This is going to be a long........ long........ long trip.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: James Harrison Card Character Portrait: Edger the drifter Character Portrait: Yen Daniel Dangtran Character Portrait: Xander Coltman Character Portrait: John Kenit Character Portrait:
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Yen sat at the table, eager, but nervous as hell. This was the fourth adventuring group he had tried to start up with, and the past three had rejected him out of hand. He just hoped he stayed in this one long enough to make a difference. He had been so optimistic as to close up his shop and sell the space. He just hoped it wasn't as bad a decision as his gut was telling him it was.

Yen watched in dismay as one of the humans showed himself to be at least a little racist. Nice. This is going to be fantastic, I can tell already. "Thanks for the drink, smoothskin." Yen rasped at the man, Xander, emphasizing the last word. Honestly. What was wrong with these humans? Couldn't they tell that ghouls were just diseased people? Then another human, John, demonstrated his own racism. Yen just smiled, which, he had figured out, only made him look more hideous, and said calmly, "I'm Vietnamese." He got that a lot, though. He had even gotten that kind of racism before the war. Chinese, Vietnamese, Korean, Japanese. Apparently they were all the same to Americans. Then someone very interesting got up to introduce himself. Whatever he was, he was definitely not human. He said that he had a "condition," but Yen wasn't quite buying it. The man was radiating nervousness, and Yen was intrigued. Was he some sort of super-mutant? Perhaps. Then he was done and he receeded into the shadows. Odd. Oh well. It's his business, anyway.

Yen looked around, seeing if anyone was making a move to speak, but, seeing no one, he got up, pushing his chair back. It made a loud screechy noise and he winced. Nice intro, bozo. he thought to himself. He cleared his throat, as if to get rid of the harsh, ghoul quality of his voice. It didn't work. "Hey." he said. "I'm Yen." There was a pause then, and he realized that he didn't really know what to say next. "Ummm... I'm Yen. Yen Daniel Dangtran." He repeated himself. He closed his eyes. This was precisely what had happened the last three meetings, too. He put his head in his hands for a minute, trying to remember what he was doing here and what he was supposed to say. Finally, it came back to him. "Oh! I'm Yen, and I'm a professional hacker. I hack computers like nobody's business and I can repair things, too. I have also been commonly used as a verbal punching bag at times, so feel free." He grinned, thinking of what he would say next. Then it came to him. "I'm a Pre-War Ghoul, so, all due respect to the Pre-War expert here, but I think I'm your go-to resource for anything Pre-War. I'm not much in a fight, so I'll require some protection. I've been adventuring for 200+ years, I lost count around 200, so... I just might be a little more experienced than you big-shots. No disrespect, 'sir.'" He said to 'Sergeant James.' The man was obviously an Enclave pig, and Yen was not looking forward to working with him. Yen took offense at being called a "mutant," even though that was he was. He preferred to think of himself as an entirely new race. Perhaps a superior one. Except for one thing. "Oh, and those years came with a price, too. A mental one. So don't be surprised if I suddenly forget where I am or start calling you Suzie, okay?"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: James Harrison Card Character Portrait: Edger the drifter Character Portrait: Yen Daniel Dangtran Character Portrait: Xander Coltman Character Portrait: John Kenit Character Portrait:
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Xander sat back in his chair as John stood up and introduced himself. He smirked at the AA comment. The vault he used to live in had an AA. It only had a few members, but they were the guys who saw the most while they were topside. He just shook his head as the man made blunder after blunder. After the BoS member sat down, the enclave bastard stood up. He made some comment about the Brotherhood of Steel. Which was fine in its own right. He bore no love for the Brotherhood. That's when he said something about the vaults standing in the way of progress. The man was right, the vaults do stand in the way of progress, but so did every other god damn government that sprung up in the past. He was firm in his belief that he was right and that nothing else matters, this made the Enclave soldier a madman. Now he was generally ticked off. Snipers were supposed to keep their calm, this guy however just rubbed him the wrong way. He sighed and pulled out a piece of gum. He had quit smoking and started chewing gum instead. Hard part was cigarettes were more common than gum. It was weird.

The 'Human' was the next to introduce himself. He had noticed that he didn't drink the soda he gave him. Not weird, but not normal. Most people would jump at the chance of a free drink. Xander always took free drinks when they were offered. He shrugged it off. He introduced himself as Edger, seemed nervous, a bit of a chatty person but a decent person all around. He like the guy. Either way, it would be nice to have somebody to challenge him in a game of chess. He needed to find a board and all the pieces first. He was unconsciously studying how he moved. It wasn't uncommon for him to study people, sometimes they were open books, others they were locked tighter than a new hooker at Gomorrah. He seemed to be the latter of the two. He moved like he was minding something, his feet, arms, and back. He blinked and forgot about it. It was best left for another time.

The next person was the Ghoul, now Xander had heard the emphasis smooth skin in his comment. He only brushed it off because he would deal with each and every one of them in turn. Nothing will be out of place. He thanked God when he heard the ghoul say he was a genius when it came to computers and repairs. He sure as hell did not want to be the one responsible for being locked out of somewhere because he fucked up. The part that intrigued him was the fact that he was a ghoul who lived through the years, he very much wanted to speak to him about how life was back then.

Xander's eyes crossed the group again and saw that only his soda was empty, he saw a trash can about 10 feet away. He took careful aim and threw it. (Now this where I'm tossing in a luck thing, just to make things kinda funny.) The soda bottle hit the edge of the trash can and bounced off hit the wall behind the trash can and made contact with the ghoul bartenders head. The man was not impressed by the turn of events. Xander tossed him the bottle cap that he got from soda. He stood up and turned to the guy on his right which happened to be John, "I have absolutely nothing to say to you right now besides, Don't die, because it will be extremely hard to replace you. Then it was James turn, "I could say a lot of things about the Enclave and how screwed up they were. But that would only lead us to a very unfortunate fist fight, which judging by my stature and your muscle mass you will beat me to a bloody pulp. I do agree with you though, as soon as this contracts over, you and me are going to have a little talk." He turned to Edgar, "I'll think I'll save you for last." He turned to Yen, "Now, a verbal punching bag is not what this group needs. A strong hacker is what we need. Now for the racist comment I said earlier. The reason I said is because the first time I met a ghoul I took smooth skin the wrong way. It just urks me for some reason. So now to be fair, I call ghouls leather faces. It's only right, you can do it, so can I. That doesn't make it right though. I still hate racism."

"Now for the mystery man in the cloak. Right now your probably thinking about how after I just tore these guys apart, esides the BoS member. I'm gonna rip you a new one. That may or may not be the reason." He said pacing in front of the deathclaw. "I'm guessing by your size you can hold your own against anything, right? That something could very well be a deathclaw or a supermutant. Either way, You can hold your own. I don't really worry about fixing the boo boos on you." Xander sighed. He sat down.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: James Harrison Card Character Portrait: Edger the drifter Character Portrait: Yen Daniel Dangtran Character Portrait: Xander Coltman Character Portrait: John Kenit Character Portrait:
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John sat through James's introduction, not really paying much attention to him. Great, an enclave asshole who thinks that the enclave's shit doesn't stink. Once James sat down, the behemoth stood up. " Is it just me, or did everyone in the room just get smaller?". The behemoth looked nervous. He introduced himself as Edger. "As I'm sure some of you have noticed, I have a bit of a...... condition." John piped up "I don't think being a fucking sasquatch is a condition." Edger seemed to ignore this comment. "Hardly noticeable" John nodded. "All I'd ask of you fine folks is to keep the comments amongst yourselves." "Too late..." John muttered. "Trust me, your not going to think of something I haven't heard before." Challenge accepted.

Once he sat down, the ghoul was the next to stand up. "Hey, I'm Yen." "Nice to meet you Yen," John said. "Ummm... I'm Yen. Yen Daniel Dangtran." John once again piped up " We got that Yen..." Yen put his hands on his head. Then, he looked forward and his eyes lit up. "Wait...don't tell me...you're Yen" John muttered so Yen couldn't hear, although loud enough for the others. "Oh! I'm Yen" Who could have guessed? Yen explained that he was a hacker, and how he is a pre-war ghoul. "I've been adventuring for 200+ years." John leaned forward in his chair and squinted his eyes at Yen ".......Grandpa?".

Yen said a few more things and sat down. Xander had a few more things to say to everyone, ending with Edger. John stood up. "Oh, and I just want to clarify. I am not racist, I shit on everybody equally, so be free to shit on me. Wait...that may have come out wrong. I uh...yea. I'll just go wait outside, get some irradiated air." And so, John walked out.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: James Harrison Card Character Portrait: Edger the drifter Character Portrait: Yen Daniel Dangtran Character Portrait: Xander Coltman Character Portrait: John Kenit Character Portrait:
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James watched the cloaked 'man' closely. He didn't really notice anything other than the height and hunched back. Perfectly human under those robes to him, all kinds of weird people traveled the wastelands. Some horribly disfigured due to injuries, so he passed it off as nothing for now. Then when Xander mentioned Deathclaws he perked up slightly. "Ahh, the Deathclaws, an Enclave pet project. Too bad the Brotherhood mucked up our last plan with the Deathclaw control harnesses." He began wiping the sides of mini-gun with a towel. He always kept his gun and knife cleaned, especially the gun. The armor he could care less about, it was meant to take a beating therefor he let it take one. Everything had its purpose in his world, everything. Just like this job had a purpose for him to earn caps and maybe enough prestige to draw some more ex-Enclave members to him so he could build his own remnant group and try to restore the Enclave to its former glory. Heh, President Card. He liked that, smiling under his helmet he chuckled mindlessly before snapping back to reality. "Everything in the Enclave fell apart once Colonel Autumn died." He then looked over at the two. "So when are we going to get this show on the road, the Brotherhood boy seems anxious and I hate sitting around and just talking, it stops progress." He grumbled and leaned against the counter. Ready and rearing to go, aching for some action. This team he may disliked and they may have disliked him, but he was stuck with them and was smart enough to realize if they worked together they all had a better chance of walking away from this job alive. And maybe the could make the best of it, no need in being miserable this whole trip. He thought to himself.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: James Harrison Card Character Portrait: Edger the drifter Character Portrait: Yen Daniel Dangtran Character Portrait: Xander Coltman Character Portrait: John Kenit Character Portrait:
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John paces around outside, occasionally looking at the scratched out BOS insignia on his his shoulder. He takes out is knife and starts playing with it. I probably haven't made the best impression on them. Maybe i should go back in and see whats going on. He hears "So when are we going to get this show on the road, the Brotherhood boy seems anxious and I hate sitting around and just talking, it stops progress." as he walks back in. "I think grandpa here is right, we should probaly get going. But first, like any good team...we'll need codenames. We already have grandpa." He points at Xander." You're Rowdy Roddy Sniper." Points at Edger. " You can be weather man. By the way, how's the weather up there?". He then points to Yen. He stares for a second with his mouth open, thinking. "You can be sexy. And you can call me Captain. I prefer to be addressed with "Oh Captain, My Captain". I'm glad we had this conversation. So we ready to go?"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: James Harrison Card Character Portrait: Edger the drifter Character Portrait: Yen Daniel Dangtran Character Portrait: Xander Coltman Character Portrait: John Kenit Character Portrait:
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#, as written by Raidose
Edger's stomach was starting to knot. He never liked being in one spot too long. No one ever seemed to look at him so closely when he was being useful, but right now he was little more than the elephant in the room. He caught the Enclave Nazi mention something about control harnesses and deathclaws. A tiny rumble of a growl escaped his throat, despite his efforts to hold it in. "Everything in the Enclave fell apart once Colonel Autumn died." Awww. Well isn't that just a tragedy? "So when are we going to get this show on the road, the Brotherhood boy seems anxious and I hate sitting around and just talking, it stops progress." This forced Edger to actually pause for a second, struggling with a moment of real disbelief. I really can't believe it, but I think I have to agree with the fascist. Ed was a mere moment away from putting his input in when John stepped back into the gloom.

"I think grandpa here is right, we should probaly get going. But first, like any good team...we'll need codenames. We already have grandpa." Well, looks like Yen lost his title, though I somehow doubt he'll be real beat up over it. John then seemed to address Xander as "Rowdy Roddy Sniper". Heh, well at least it was somewhat clever. " You can be weather man. By the way, how's the weather up there?" That last joke by John was so bad, it succeeded in making Edger forget about his nervousness. "Seriously? That joke is literally older then Yen over there." Edger motioned his cloaked left arm in Yen's direction, before realizing that he may have just insulted him. The nervousness flew back full-force as Edger turned to address Yen. "I... uhhhh.... I-I didn't mean to offend, I... uhhh... I'm, uhh... I-I'm sorry."

And you can call me Captain. I prefer to be addressed with 'Oh Captain, My Captain'. I'm glad we had this conversation. So we ready to go?" Well, at least Capt. Ass of the U.S.S. Bung-Hole has the right idea. Edger turned towards John with a shrouded smirk. "Heh heh heh, in ducere, stultus asinus asinorum....." John seemed to look back with a bit of confusion. "It means 'lead on'...."

Or at least....... that's what the first part means, Edger mused within his own head as he gave a light chuckle.

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James listened to the conversation. Looking back and forth between his 'allies'. When he heard John call him Grandpa he grumbled. "If I'm called grandpa one more time... We'll have an issue on our hands, son, I thought you would show respect to your Elders. One more thing, you must be high on Jet and Mentants if you expect me to call you Captain, you don't have the guts for that title. So how about we call me Captain, and you Brotherhood Communist? Hmm?" He leaned back and then listened again, chuckling at the cloaked figure's commit to his nickname."Seriously? That joke is literally older then Yen over there." He had to admit, these too were both smartasses, the kind of people he of admired in training. Then he heard Latin."Heh heh heh, in ducere, stultus asinus asinorum....." Immediately he related it to Caesar's Legion. He knew the first two words of the sentence. Having heard them many times, he turned to cloaked figure. "You a Legionnaire? Its not everyday you hear that language spoken outside their camps, if so we may be friends. The Legion has the right idea on post-war government. They're tough... Unlike the damned NCR sitting on their side of the river. If you are Legionnaire then I say this. Ave! True to Caesar." He heard those words many times as well and spoken them. The Legion payed well, were strict, and effective, to him what was there to dislike. They were basically a more Tribal version of the Enclave, minus the slaves. He was a mixture of The Legion and Enclave now, two of most hated factions in the wasteland but to him their ideals were right. They both ruled harshly, they both always got one thing in common, results, results meant progress, progress would eventually mean the Old World would be back, or atleast in his mind it would.

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Xander sighed at being called the Rowdy Roddy Sniper. He hated being called something other than Xander, the only time he actually liked being called Alex was when he was with Ash. He shook his head silently as the man gave them other code names. Grandpa was the enclave soldier, which he thought fit Yen pretty decently, however, his size and stature meant he was a teenager. Who was called 'Sexy' by the man. Then he called Edger the weather man. He even had a joke for it. Which Edger was right it was older than that ghoul. It was pathetic. He proceeded to call him captian. Which he was crazy if any of them was going to call him Captain. That's when he heard the Latin. He had read about it in books and he heard it being spoken by ex Legion slaves. He knew some of the swear words. The last part was definitely a swear. Something about a donkey. Either way it was still funny. James spouted something about Hailing to a now dead king. Either way it didn't matter.

"Caesar is dead, you should know that. He died of brain cancer. It was shortly before or after the second battle at the Dam. I forget which. Either way, the Legion is now a shadow of what it once was." Xander said popping another bottle of soda he got from the bartender. He sighed and headed towards the door. "Lets go I want to get this job done and over with," he said as he opened the partly ruined door and headed out.

The sunlight was bright. He had forgotten how long he was inside for. Even though he had left the vault years ago; it still amazed him how after all the damage mankind has done to the Earth, the Sun was still shining brightly as ever. Xander sighed and thought about his time in the vault. He had taken the G.O.A.T exam at the regulated age of 16. He had ended up as a sniper. Lets just say his parents weren't overly surprised, neither was his girlfriend Ashley Johnson. He had a history of being able to spot things that nobody else could. He remembered the first time he was sent on recon to scavenge for supplies. Sure the vault could have been emptied about 100 years ago. The people didn't want to leave though. The entire vault was based upon living on the on the topside after the world had ended. After the initial scouting reports showed that the best course of action was to stay in the vault and to leave when to get supplies, collect data, and protect the vault. His mind soon wandered to his last mission as a Vault sniper. It was a routine mission, go kill a group of raiders that wandered too far into their area. The night before he left, Ash, now his fiance, didn't want him to leave. She said that she had a bad feeling about it. Xander had assured his that he would be alright no matter what happens.

When he was pulled back into reality he felt a wetness on his face. There was tears, he hadn't cried since he was young. He looked around and saw nobody from the bar had exited yet. So he his tough guy face was saved. He brought up his Pip boy and looked at the map of the Chicago Wastes. The note said the place was a couple miles out of town towards the south east. Judging from his map, they were in the north west corner. That meant they had quite a while till they reached their destination.


(OOC: Yeah, I know nothing was set in Canon if Caesar died or not. I'm pulling rank and saying he died of the cancer. Which he did have.)

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"It means 'lead on'...." John just looked at him for a second, and then smirked. He knew there was more said, and didn't mind some retaliation. Then he heard James go on about how there'd be a problem if he was called grandpa one more time. "Alright fine, the title of grandpa can go back to Yen. Sexy wasn't too fitting anyway," He looks over at Yen "I mean, not because you're not uh..you know, but I don't even know if you're capable of..umm...the uh...the horizontal bop. I mean, does your...does it even...moving on...". He walks out Xander, who had just finished looking at his pip boy. "Do you get radio on that thing?...But errr...on a more serious note, we should probably keep the most perceptive person in the front, and then the person after that should be in the back. Allows for us to pick up on what's ahead, and have an advantage if we are being followed. Being a sniper, you should probably take point. I think the rear comes down to me and Yen, and I have the combat experience he doesn't. James has a gatling gun, not exactly what you give a guy who is quick to pick up on things . I don't know much about Edger though, so i'd keep him in the middle." He looks back to the doorway, where everyone is now coming out of. He waits for James to come out." *Cough* Grandma *Cough*. Sorry, i think i'm coming down with a cold."

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#, as written by Raidose
Edger had to focus to keep himself from vomiting at the thought. Friend of the Legion? It would take a hell of a lot for me to even tolerate those psychopathic Roman-wannabes. "It is... James, right? Sergeant James? To answer your question, no, and far from it. You see, I usually act as a guide for caravans. Back in the day, when the Legion had it's 'hard-on' for everyone in Nevada, the Legion would launch ambushes on anyone traversing near their territory." Edger started towards the door at Xander's mention. He continued his tale, drawing closer to the exit.

"They'd just show up out of nowhere, over hills and from behind the rocks. They liked to call these little raids 'checkpoints'. And, well, you deal with enough of these little 'inspections', you learn some things in Latin. One in particular: 'Nos sunt mercatores! Placere non occidere nos!' See, trade caravans were about the only thing the Legion wouldn't hang on a cross or enslave. So, if you wanted to not die, you had to remember two things."

Edger stepped out into the light, tilting his head down. The shadow cast by his hood leaving his face in a void of darkness. He tilted his head back towards James, and proceeded with his drawn-out answer. "One, always be sure to let them know that your merchants. Two, never say that little line in English. Break either of those, and they simply open fire. 'Stultus asino asinorum' was my description for their little band leaders once they were gone." Edger felt a small grin spread over his reptilian features. "It usually served well at lightening the mood."

Once Edger's story of insult was finished, he took a position at the rear of the group. "I can assure you, I'm quite observant. I should take up the rear, more so since I don't carry a gun. Plus, my robe has an added bonus of sweeping up foot prints quite nicely."

"No offense to you, John...."

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James groaned at Edger's story but didn't stop him. Agreeing that sometimes the Legion were a bit trigger happy, he had been attacked by them several times before joining their ranks for a short while. Long enough to participate in the Second Battle of the Dam. He didn't catch John's insult. Considering he was kind of hard of hearing after spending his life on the battlefield with guns ablazing. But he did hear the part about the sniper taking lead. Bad idea. "I actually think I should take lead as well, its only logical. If we're rained down on by bullets they'll aim for the front first. And considering my armor, I would most likely be able to walk away with the least amount of wounds. Though the Sniper should stay close." He could hardly believe what he was saying, he literally just offered himself to take a bullet for a Vault-Dweller, a Brotherhood 'Communist', a Ghoul, and some tall human-thing. "Edger, is that your name? You said that you worked with caravans, didn't they usually send the more heavily armed and armored ones up front?" He asked trying to prove his point, in case anyone tried making a fuss about it, but it was clear and logical. Let the big guy in a giant case of steel and titanium go first. Plus he had a mini-gun, which used correctly could suppress enemy gunners and give the sniper and the others time to get behind cover. He gave a gruffing noise and wanted for Xander or Edger to say something. He would listen to either of those two, they seemed like they were perfectly capable of leading, he would listen to John, if the man wasn't such a smart-allec and ex-Brotherhood member, and the Ghoul, if the Ghoul tried to command him he would just ignore that. A mutant has no place commanding Humans. Or atleast he thought, considering the Enclave viewed Mutants as second class, needed to be wiped out. It was their plan in D.C until that Lone Wander, the Brotherhood, and that damned robot Freedom Prime ruined everything. He shook the thoughts from his head and refocused on the situation. Waiting for someone else to speak up.

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"I can assure you, I'm quite observant. I should take up the rear, more so since I don't carry a gun. Plus, my robe has an added bonus of sweeping up foot prints quite nicely."

"No offense to you, John...."
John looked at him, a little impressed. "Very well, i didn't expect you to speak up like that. I can respect that."

actually think I should take lead as well, its only logical. If we're rained down on by bullets they'll aim for the front first. And considering my armor, I would most likely be able to walk away with the least amount of wounds. Though the Sniper should stay close." John looks him over. "Alright, I guess it makes sense. If you want to be the first to get shot at, so be it. Just don't get it in your head that you can give orders around here." He takes out his assault rifle, not in an aggressive way. He moves to the back with Edger. "Hope you don't mind me walking with you."

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Xander offered no arguments to whether or not he should take front or not. He figured if he was in front, he would be most likely be the first one to get shot. He might be a medic, but he didn't like working on himself. It sucked, it was like a paradox. Your body is programed to stop you from hurting yourself. Well, being a medic meant hurting yourself to get better. So it was harder for him to work on himself. That and Med-X could fix any problem you might have. He had heard being called another name, some people called it morphine. He figured it was the actual chemical name was and Med-x was just street or the consumer name. Either way it was still effective for healing wounds. He had noticed that Yen finally came out of the bar. He was quiet probably thinking, he didn't blame him. This was a lot to take in for an old ghoul. Xander did a quick calculation by guesses of the ages in this group. That even if you added them all together, they were no where near the ghoul.

As the group made their way towards the heart of the city, they started to notice the deeper they got the quieter it got. Soon after a few hours of walking it was dead silent. No birds, no humans, no dogs, not even the occasional gunshot. Silence was so overbearing nobody in the group broke it. It was dead in the city. The ruins were rusted over and cars often were piled up blocking the way. They had been traveling for about 4 hours, the sun was starting to set. Xander ran off into a building and a few minutes later his figure appeared on the broken roof top. He scanned the immediate area for any dangers that might be present. He saw nobody, which was more unsettling than seeing a group of raiders or super mutants. He went back down and told the group, "We make camp here tonight. I don't want to venture into a ruined city at night. Bad things come out of hiding at night like..." Xander's voice trailed off. He thought he heard something.

The silence made it easy for him to pinpoint the direction the sound was coming from. He pulled out his pistol and headed towards the sound, I'm so stupid for doing this, why the hell didn't I send James or John after this damned sound. Oh, I know why they're useless. He thought to himself as he neared toward the faint sound. As he neared closer he heard growling. When he neared even closer he saw what was making the noise. Xander turned around and booked it. He didn't want to fight a death claw. As he was running he saw a few more of them popping out of the alleys and ruined buildings. They were mostly full grown ones, with the occasional baby one. It was a nest. A big one at that. He shouted, "RUN THE FUCK AWAY, IT'S A NEST A DEATH..." He heard a yelling behind him and quickly dived rolled. Xander could feel the wind of the claws pasting over him. His foot hit a piece of rubble and he tripped and fell. He looked up and saw his doom. A death claw loomed over him, the beast raised his arm poised to strike. Xander smiled as he heard a crashing through the rubble. This was his chance to run. The crashing sound was made by a Super mutant behemoth. He was never so happy to see that ugly freak. He heard shouting behind the beast. There was super mutants coming. He knew that they were outmatched. A death claw nest, and a battalion of super freaks; that's just asking to get killed. He ran by the rest of the group picking up his pack on the go. He wasn't about to be dinner for any of these mutants.

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While the group was still walking, John would occasionally poke Edger's arm through the cloak, not enough to really do anything, but enough for Edger to notice, and then looks away as if he didn't do it. "I've been thinking...weatherman doesn't really fit you...I think you actually might work better with pipsqueak..." John thought for a moment and whipped his head back to Egder "No, you're fluffy!". John's general picture of Edger was a big and very bald man who has so many deformities that he probably could pass for an ugly super mutant.

Once the group had arrived at the very silent and almost eerie part of the city, John looked concerned. "You know, this place is almost as scary as my mother's walk-in closet." He shivered. "We make camp here tonight. I don't want to venture into a ruined city at night. Bad things come out of hiding at night like..." Xander headed forward with his pistol out. "Everything alright? Xander? Xander?" Xander was almost out of sight at this point. "Rowdy?" Then Xander was gone. He looks over to James. "You know, you might want to keep that thing warmed up," he says as he notions to the mini-gun." If he comes back here with uglies, we want to be ready."

"RUN THE FUCK AWAY, IT'S A NEST A DEATH..." John looked forward. "What? You need to be louder..." It was just then that the stomping of feet, growling, and a slight earthquake from a certain behemoth that the group noticed something bad was happening. Xander flew into sight, running straight at us. John raised his hand. "Hey, what the hell is going on...," as Xander passed him." And where are you running..." As he saw the army of enemies in the distance...the not so distant distance. "Fuck me...," his hand dropped to his gun and he dashed after Xander, running and gunning Uncharted style. He heads for the nearest building, knowing that he can maneuver well throughout the many points of cover.

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James agreed with the chance for camp. But tried to get Xander to set up a building, but before he was able to talk to the man he had gone. "Typical snipers..." He grumbled and sat there for a bit, trying to listen in the distance. The next thing he heard was John, "You know, you might want to keep that thing warmed up," he said as the man motioned to the mini-gun, Betsy." If he comes back here with uglies, we want to be ready." "Right, good idea son." He murmured in reply, lifting the gun up to look at the row of buttons near the trigger squeeze. He pressed one, which caused the barrels to spin around, spooling the gun up. He then reached back into the ammo case on his back and pulled out a clip of ammo and placed in the gun. A little beep occurred and then a counter pulled up with 200 rounds AMRP for armor-piercing. Not enough for a firefight, but enough to rip a few humans or creatures apart. He was glad the Enclave had rigged the mini-guns they made with this counter system, it came in handy. No longer having to guess how many rounds were left. Right as he finished he heard Xander come running back screaming and looked up to see Deathclaws, and a Super-Mutant Behemoth. "Shit!" He yelled out and opened fire on the targets that had broken off to chase Xander, slowly walking backwards. Unlike the others, James could not outrun a Super-mutant, or Deathclaw. So he merely, targeted a Deathclaw who was in chase and opened fire, unloading the clip at it, hoping the rounds would tear through its hide. "Go! I'll catch up!" He yelled to the others, this was all hell in a handbasket to him and surely to the others.

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#, as written by Raidose
Edger took his post as "Track Sweeper" as the group ventured deeper into the old city ruins. The entire way was filled of John's attempts to pester Edger with various childlike stunts. John seemed to favor poking Ed's arm, and then looking away. Does he really think that I don't know it's him? John continues his little game *Poke* "quit it", *poke* "quit it", *poke* "quit it", *poke*, "quit it" *poke* "quit it!" You know, were I a person of lower standards, I just might be tempting to poke him with my finger. Bet it'd end this crap quick, fast. and in a hurry. John gave him yet another prod to the arm. Okay. My turn. As John turned away and went for it once more, he quickly discovered that Edger was no longer on his right side. John glanced to his left, only to discover Edger now on his left side. Without even looking in his direction, Edger just once again said "quit it". That should screw with him for a while.

Then it happened. "No, your fluffy!" Edger just glared in John's direction. "Only if your 'The Eunuch'." And in time, I may help you better 'fit' that title. Edger turned his gaze forward. He couldn't look up, but the shadows ,with what little light was left, cast an all-consuming darkness from the surrounding buildings. They had delved into the core of this carcass of a city. The silence was suffocating. It just seemed to wrap around everyone and squeeze, till all you could hear was the ambiance of your own body. The scout of this little ensemble made the suggestion of making camp, which, despite the current creepy-as-fuck location, was a marvelous idea. Still, not wanting to be killed in his sleep, Edger attempted to make a suggestion. "Xander, mind scou-" Edger trailed off as he noticed Xander stalk through an archway of an old, decrepit building. "Oh.... well, never mind then." Edger felt relieved to actually have a proactive scout for a change. He had gotten use the many requiring that you asked them to first.

Ed had just found the spot he would proclaim as 'his' when Xander came rushing back, and, like the fabled Pale Rider, hell unfortunately followed with him. I'm sorry, it was to my understanding that the scouts job was not to drag a freaking army back with him. Edger saw the others take off with haste appropriate to the motivation provivded, and knew that he would be unable to keep up. At least, if he hoped to maintain his guise. It was his hope to head through the remains of the various husks of architecture, as to break line of sight with his comrades. So, having this plan as his guide, Edger darted through a nearby opened door. He ran as fast and quiet as he could, hoping that he was not being pursued. Having bolted across three streets and two thankfully wide-enough windows, Ed believed he was in the clear. And was proven wrong.

Edger cut a corner and ran right into "family". The deathcalw towering over him, it's placid white eyes scanning the strange sight that stood before it. It's nostrils snorted, as if making it's final judgement. "Uhh.... heh... h-hey, cousin..... how you doing?" Edger weakly spilled out, plagued by some nervous laughter. He slowly tried to back away, he talons clacking against the ground sounding his retreat. The deathclaws talons seemed to imitate his, but only to sound it's advance. "Oh, well... you look busy, so I'm just going to be......" as he whipped around, only to see two more. "Heh.... heh heh... heh ho oh ho shit-on-my-life......" Thankfully, Edger was near the window he had climbed through, and none of these nightmares seemed to be blocking it. "And for my next impression............ Jessy Owens" as he sprang to life, shooting his body through the window and breaking it's frame. The monstrous beings smashed through some loose masonry and the chase was on.

They pursued Edger's scent to a dark, gore-filled alleyway, with some bright yellow & rust brown dumpsters against the walls. The air was thick with the smell of 'old victim', which made following Edger's trail a trick and a half, even for these bastards. Likely still having the rush of the hunt flowing strongly through their bodies, they thundered down the alley. Thank God for scavengers, and thank scavengers for empty dumpsters. Edger hesitantly poked his head up, gently lifting the lid with his horns. Scanning to his right, he noticed a way-too-familiar scaly nose poking back around the corner. Ed let out a slight whimper and shot his head back down, the lid landing with a barely audible thud. Though Edger knew that was still enough. That was smart, Ed. Was a neon arrow too subtle?

The heavy-set thuds of clawed feet were right outside. I'm not here, go away, I'm not here, go away, I'm not here, go away! There's something tasty out there and you know it, go away! The deathclaw's head snapped towards Ed's dumpster with a snort. Okay, am I wrong? Or did he just hear me think? The beast readjusts it's footing to face the dumpster. Let me guess, your gonna be one of those obnoxiously patient bastards and try to wait me out, aren't you? The strong scent prompts it to start nosing the lid up, as Ed can start to see it's snout poke in. Oh, so you are impatient. Just not in the way I was hoping.

The deathclaw, unwilling to wait any longer for the kill, wedges it's left hand into the gap and begins lifting the lid with it's right. It slowly peered in at the albino runt. "Ooga-Booga! *slash*" Edger swiped at it's face, cutting deep & taking out at least one eye. The creature covered it's face and let out a deep, hollow, enraged howl of pain. Rearing backwards and buying Edger more than enough time to escape. Ed ran as if he had just stolen the Constitution, with enough acceleration to actually knock his dumpster on it's side. Racing through the alleys, Edger spotted a narrow back-door to his salvation.

Ha! I can use doorknobs, asshole! With a twist and a yank, the doorknob snapped clean off. Edger stared at this token of denial with disbelief. "At least when they actually freaking work!" A charging-roar echoed down the corridor, signaling to Ed that he had but moments. Spying an extremely thin open window, Edger growled, groaned, strained, and clawed desperately to pull himself through before his buddy caught up. He hit the floor with a shelf-shaking thump, merely a second away from having his rear quarter deli-sliced. The frenzied deathclaw's nails slashed and sparked against the wall, leaving three-inch groves in the solid concrete.

Edger didn't slow down for even a moment, though he knew that he was safe for now. He remembered that deathclaws would instinctively avoid such a tight space. They knew they needed room to swing, and lacking that room made them feel vulnerable. This one had already been hurt, and Edger knew that it wouldn't take the risk. He did have to worry about it finding another way in, though, as he rushed towards the front door. He spotted movement through the window, which appeared to be humanoid. A strong scent flowed into his nostrils. Noodles, motor oil, and rot. Yen. He take a second to 'compose himself', readjusting his hood and robes, before opening the door. He knew that either the others were close behind him, the others were way out in front of him, or that he was separated and hopelessly lost. Edger prayed hard for the first one as he cracked it open.

"Yen! Where are the others?"