Fallout New Vegas RP (Open)

[roachman34]

// Ok so I really like fallout and thought maybe it would be fun to do one. So just hop in whenever. Oh and this is about a year after the first battle of Hoover Dam.
Introduction: So here it is the Great Mojave Desert home to the one and only New Vegas. The land is constantly being fought over by the NCR (New California Republic) and the dreaded Ceaser's Legion. It took some time but you finally got to where you are today. And this is where your story begins.

Connor Lawton stepped out into the heat of the Mojave and looked around at the town of Nipton. He had stopped here for supplies on his way to Primm and he despised this town. It had a certain feel about it that always made Connor feel on guard, he didn't trust the mayor and so he quickly made his way out and continued on his way to Primm, as he walked he unhooked his hunting rifle from the strap that attached it to his leather armor and chambered a .308 round as he walked.

    "Hopefully today will be more intersting this has been so boring." He said though he continued walking along his way until he spotted something in the dirt. It was blood and it was fresh, not a good sign. He looked around continuing with caution. He barely  heard the footstpes before he turned around catching a heavy fist to the jaw. As he fell he saw the face of a gleaming raider. Then he passed out.

[Llau]

Kiefer was setting out from the Mojave Outpost with his canine companion, Ice, a large white wolf dog he found when Ice was a puppy back in Denver, Colorado several years ago. He had Ice fitted with a protective Kevlar vest to help protect him somewhat during firefights with raiders, or the Caesar's Legion if he were to run into any. He had riot gear uniform and helmet on, and was carrying his trusty .50 cal sniper rifle over his shoulder, a revolver hidden under his coat, and a trench knife strapped to his boot, as he made his way down the interstate to head up toward Primm to check on the outpost there before he were to make his way further to check on Goodsprings for some more gear and hang out at the bar for a while before he were to continue on further toward Vegas. Out from the corner of his eye as he made it passed the intersection near the abandoned rest stop, he could see several raiders surrounding something on the ground. He slowed to a stop, frowned, and knelt down to the ground.

Holding his sniper rifle that was already loaded and ready to use, he eyed through the scope to get a closer look. "Hmm...stupid raiders..." he muttered. He watched for a moment while one was starting to loot the man that they must have either knocked out or killed, or already found him dead. Meanwhile the other two raiders seemed to be arguing about splitting the loot and what they wanted to do with the man. All three were occupied by something, and thus, were staying still. Easy targets. He smirked. He hated raiders with a passion.

Aiming carefully, he slowed his breathing, and once he was in full concentration mode, he pulled the trigger, and fired at the one busy looting - aiming center mass. Moments later, the man's torso exploded on impact, and he dropped dead beside the man on the ground.

(I'll let you decide on what happens to the other two raiders. Fight or flee, doesn't matter to me. Also, Kiefer isn't with the NCR, just helping them out.)

[Sentinel]

Yeah, I'm game. 

Mark Stone
Ex-NCR Ranger
Entering the Divide

    Mark stood atop a ridge looking out at all that lay before him. He wondered what had happened here, and what lay inside to find. Few were crazy enough to come here, but he was far from sane. Besides, stories were told of someone who had come back from here, near death and ranting about nukes and the "Old World". 

    He decided he had stood too long, and looked for a way down. To his right was a path that led to a bunker, it looked like. He drew his marksman carbine, and checked the mag. 5.56 AP rounds, just the way he liked 'em. He had a few extra mags on a bandoleer he wore under his coyote tan duster, but over his NCR Ranger armor. It was scratched and dented, with more than a few deep gouges where he had been shot, and it saved him. It was old, like him, but still staying strong. He slammed the mag back in, and proceeded to the door.  

    Mark fiddled with the terminal outside for a bit, and soon got the door open. Inside, a dark room was occasionally illuminated by flickering lights. He walked in, weapon ready, and checked his corners. Inside the room was what seemed to be a generator, and to his left, a huge steel door, closed tight. Great, he thought, why can't it ever be easy? There was a terminal atop the generator, and Mark approached it. He slung his rifle back over his shoulder, and turned on the terminal. Green text appeared, with several options.

Welcome to ROBCO Industries (TM) Termlink

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Power Options
Door Control
If you want to survive the Divide...




     If you want to survive? Mark clicked the option.

Welcome to ROBCO Industries (TM) Termlink 

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    Good, you pay attention. Who I am is none of your concern, but what awaits you in the Divide is. Before you continue, I urge you to turn back. There is nothing here for you. Only death. But my warning will most likely not sway you, as you have come this far already. So I offer you this instead. Follow the signs I have left. The Old World is still breathing here. Ragged, slow, but breathing. Be wary, and follow the signs. Do that, and you just might survive. 

    I have left many logs on various terminals, and left things behind that may be useful to a wanderer like myself. I stand by my warning, however. Through that door to your left is only suffering. The Divide is punishes mistakes relentlessly. 

- Tiresias
    
    Mark read over the cryptic message several times... Signs? What Signs? And what was all his about the Old World "breathing"? Mark clicked back to the main screen and hesitated, cursor highlighting the door controls. He contemplated what to do. Turn back, or push ahead? He opened the door.

[roachman34]

Connor was slowly coming to when he felt a warm chunky liquid on his face. He slowly opened his eyes to discover it was blood and guts of the raider that currently had his lifeless hands in his pockets. The other two turned and upon seeing their friend's guts explode outwards began sprinting into down the road they had come.

"What...?" Connor said slightly sitting up but feeling dizzy. Connor rolled himself over and became freed from the dead man on top of him. As he did this the dizziness became too much and he wretched onto the ground relieving himself of his breakfast. Then feeling slightly better he looked around and spotted his rifle not really caring that the other two raiders were getting away. And after quickly gathering his gear from the one who had been looting him he set about scraping the man's innards off of his body. After this, he resecured his clothing returning everything to its compartments he would stand up fully and look around for his savior.

[Sentinel]

Mark Stone
Ex-NCR Ranger
In Hopeville Silo
"Was this a good idea...?"

    The door slid open, and behind it, a small room was revealed. In it was a few chairs, a metal desk, and a body. The dead one wore the body of an NCR trooper, but had a helmet like that of Caesars legion. Upon closer inspection, all of the skin was flayed from his face, revealing the musculature beneath. A combat knife was stuck through one eye.

    Mark was not a man to shy away from grisly spectacles, and instead of retching or running away, he readied his weapon and entered the dimly lit room. He made sure the room was clear, then retrieved the knife from the body, placing it inside the empty sheath attached to the chest piece of his armor. Good, I needed a replacement, Mark thought, Though I wish it weren't so dull. He'd fix that later, he supposed. In the Wasteland, every resource was precious, regardless of where it came from.

    The body also piqued his curiosity. Why was this man wearing the armors of both sides of the conflict? He wondered. He inspected it closer, turning it over and searching it's bandoleer. Two magazines of 5mm ammo. Useless. An empty canteen. That might come in handy. He placed it in his bag. A handful of .44 rounds. He pulled his ranger sequoia out of it's holster and checked how many shots were loaded. Two. He loaded four more, and put the remaining six rounds in his bandoleer. 

    A noise outside the room startled him, and he raised his sequoia in the direction of it. A protectron was banging it's head against the glass wall of the room on the side with the door leading deeper inside the silo. Fucking robots. He walked to the door, and opened it.

    "Hey there, robot," He said, leaning his head out the door, "Are you broken, or just stupid?"

    The protectron abruptly turned and fired a laser at the doorway, missing horribly. Mark ducked back inside, and closed the door. Great. Robot wants to kill me. He took his carbine off of his shoulder, and took off the safety. He opened the door again, leaned out, and fired three rounds into the robots head, shattering the glass covering and disintegrating the robot's "brain". It fell face-first forward. The sounds of the unsilenced shots echoed throughout the huge open silo Mark had stepped into. "Shit." He said, under his breath. That'll attract some attention. 

    It wasn't until after Mark had taken out the Protectron that he noticed the empty area where a missile would have been. It was several stories high, and went down a few as well. He walked out into the silo, and looked over the edge. At the bottom, he could make out a doorway with an "Exit" Sign above it. He chuckled. So it can be easy sometimes, huh?

    But then he saw them.