Fallout

Los Angeles Wastelands

a part of Fallout, by The Afterman.

None

Guest holds sovereignty over Los Angeles Wastelands, giving them the ability to make limited changes.
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Setting

Default Location for Fallout

Minimap

Los Angeles Wastelands is a part of Fallout.

3 Places in Los Angeles Wastelands:

7 Characters Here

Magnus J. Hunter [0] An explorer who can't stay in one place for too long.
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Demo [0] "The best way to win an argument is to be the loudest"
The Pharaoh [0] A pessimistic ghoul with an intention of "more then survival"
Ethan Drakenson [0] He was the son of a soldier, Now he's one himself
The Ranger [0] "Not a lot to tell........so piss off!"

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Micheal shifted from his left foot to his right foot when the woman approached him, and casually asked him if he were looking for someone. After a few restless glances she gave him some advice to where he should look. Micheal was as still as a statue for a few moments. After a few moments he turned his head to the woman. The endless black slits in his helmet functioning as eye holes gazed at the door now.

"I'm looking for my sister." Micheal confessed in a downcast voice. "I've already checked Megaton, and Rivet city. She went west, not east. I am obligated to find her. I found a few poeple who spotted her a few weeks back, so it is unlikely that she is six feet under the ground." Micheal finished. So far Micheal had been on the trail, but now the trail had gone cold. His sister could handle herself to an extent, but he needed to find her. Some bad people were right on Micheals heels in chase of her, Micheal marveled at his family's abilities to piss off the wrong people. Most importantly he marvled at his own ability to find those people in the first place. All of the same Micheal was racing against time at this point.

"I'll be right back." Micheal said as he strode out of the bar, and into the arid expanse of the wastes.

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"Well, that would make sense, then." Roger stood up, before getting back to business. "Down the south road, is a raider named Rasa... Rasta... something like that, you'll know him when you see him. He'll be the guy with a couple of buddies trying to rob you. He'll be a couple of hills over, most likely, and I can almost guarantee he'll get the drop on you. If by some miracle you can sneak up on him, don't hesitate to shoot him in the back. Bring me back his backpack as proof, and you'll get your caps. I'll be up on the hill north of town." He stuck out his hand, grinning. "Deal?"

(OOC: I guess I'll RP the targets from here on.)

Between two steep hills, smoke climbed from a fire. Ras Abdul was a mountain of a man, taller than his two cohorts, even sitting down. He had vaguely Arabic features, unlike his white companions. The three of them had shaved heads, but only Abdul bore a full-length black beard. Each man was sitting around the campfire, their battered and rusted Kalashnikov rifles slung across their backs. The three men were all wearing more or less the same thing: different olive drab jackets, camouflage pants, and either black or brown combat boots. They looked almost like real soldiers, sitting around their crates of food and ammunition.

Abdul stood up slowly, unslinging his weapon. His two comrades followed suit, and they climbed the hill, stopping at the top, crouching. Rivets, the smallest of the three and carrying a backpack, spoke up.

"That fucker is long gone. He ain't coming back."

Abdul spoke, looking over at the road leading into town. "He'll be back, I know he will. Be patient."

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The heay coin span in a tight circle on the table.Ethan stared as the sides flashed infront of him quickly. "Sister..." he muttered to himself. "Damn, thats some heavy shit." He let loose a long sigh as he remmebered the people he met along his journey's one time there was this girl, a real fighter this one. She would sooner kick a man in the nads than trust him, This Ethan learned the hard way. (He now almost always wears a sports cup). Anyway Ethan Had really liked her. She was like a little sister to him. One day while Ethan was out scavenging a band of raider's had hit the town where she was staying.
Ethan spent a week tracking them down. When he discovered their camp. Ethan's eyes grew dark as he remembered. to make a long story short, When Ethan got there it was a slave camp, When Ethan left, it was what was left of a slave camp. Ethan had left the girl with her friends and neighbors,and taught them how to defend themselves. Sometimes he still sees her in his dreams.

He knew what was going through Michael's head, to an extent.

The coin's spin slowed and it clinked onto the bartop. The unit number was up, Ethan called it heads.

"This is uncommon, because it's my father's. He served with the army, he got this as a commendation for exceptional and uncommon valor, when he saved a squad that was pinned down. It's the only thing I have left of my old self., And what makes me strange? That I want to help people? That I'm not only looking out for myself? I'm sick and tired of the society we have turned into as a people, I want to change this world, And I'm going to try my best to be a person that can be depended on." He asked the bartender for a soda and began drinking. he sat the bottle down half empty, his eyes cold and serious.

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((are you guys seriously going to let one of the only decent fallout rps die out like this?))

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Micheal shifted slowly to the side when a group of armed men approached town. He thought it would be in his best inerest to move away from the bar, a lot of NCR soldiers didn't think to highly of BoS soldiers, renagade ones or not. Before they got a good sight on Mike, he drew an arrow in the sand pointing to a cluster of houses. Now an arrow would hold no significance to anyone wandering around. But if someone knew how heavily power armor left boot prints in the sand they could tell who was leaving the arrow in the sand.

Micheal slowly padded over to the cluster of housed, and stood behind one. Once he was posotive no one from the approaching group had seen him he pulled off his helmet, and drank from a canteen hanging from his side. Micheal wiped the sweat beading on his forhead off with one of his gloves.

He had to of gone too far west. That was the only explaination. Maybe his sister had gone back east, maybe she went back to find Micheal after-all. Micheal pushed these thoughts to the back of his mind, because frankly they disturbed them. Micheal shook his head, and placed his helmet back on. He peeked around the corner of the house, and kept an eye on the armed men. They didn't seem to be walking in a set formation, and they didn't appear hostile. All of the same if they started shooting the place up Mike would put a quick stop to it with a barrage of Mini-gun. Though they had a perfectly clear right to bear arms. Micheal still was nervous when people in a group over four were armed. Force of habit maybe.