The Wasteland's Finest (Zalgo vs. Kristie vs. Cryppy)

"AWWWOOOO! Hey there, children, it's me, Three Dog! How you kids handlin' Post-Apocalyptia today?"

Welcome to theworld after the world. The remains of Washington D.C., to be exact. You and I are part of a caravan crew, roaming around the wasteland, selling our wares, which mostly are made up of weapons, ammo, clothing, Stimpacks, and random junk.

We've been like this since we were kids, best friends and all. Both of us grew up in the settlement of Megaton, where a live atomic bomb sits at the middle in a small pool of water and the walls are made of scrap metal from old airplanes and such.

We just had a big sale of recon armor and power armor for the Brotherhood of Steel and are on the way to their base of operations, the Citadel, located within the ruins of the Pentagon building. We're travelling from Girdershade, which is deep within Enclave territory. Unfortunately, the Enclave and the Brotherhood of Steel are at war. Who will we ultimately side with in this war for the Capitol Wasteland?

Key to colors:
White=text.
Indigo and brown Indicate what I'm saying.
Red is Three Dog speaking on Galaxy News Radio.
Green is John Henry Eden speaking on Enclave Radio.
Blue is random NPC's talking.
Cyan will be the character known as "The Lone Wanderer". We'll get to him later.

Poster does the opening post, silly!

Yeah, yeah, yeah...

BIC:

The hot desert remains of the Washington D.C. area felt warmer than usual. Maybe it was the radiation. Even after 200 years, the levels still hadn't gone down. If it didn't go down in his or Kristie's lifetimes, who knew if it ever would.

The Brotherhood of Steel messenger had just left. They always creeped him out, with their dirty power armor, and the fact you could almost never see their faces. But at least they weren't as creepy as those Enclave fuckers and those damned Super Mutants.

He turned back to their pack brahmin, making sure nothing had fallen off. The pots and pans were there, the rolled up schematics for the Dart Gun, Rock-It Launcher, and Deathclaw Gauntlet were there, all the mines and grenades were there, and their bags of caps were dangling from the side. Everything was in order, so he turned back to Kristie, his hand on the Chinese Officer's sword on his hip.

"Time to head out, I guess. You ready?" He asked.

ooc: Also, we're at M5 at the moment, heading towards P5.
http://images4.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20090807131055/fallout/images/0/03/Wasteland_Map_1.0.png

OOC- That's uh, quite the walk. And sorry.. I got distracted :3
Before I post, clear up one little thing for me. So, we're in Enclave territory.. Trying to get to Citadel, to give weapons to the Brotherhood of Steel?

ooc: To give weapons and armor. Mostly energy weapons, Plasma, Pulse, Laser, Gauss, in the forms of Super-Sledges, rifles, Power Fists, pistols, mines, grenades. Basically anything we can scavenge.

Also, ammunition. Energy cells, Microfusion cells, Flamer fuel, etc.

I didn’t know why, which makes this foul mood even worse. I was never extremely cheerful, happy, but I’m not the type that… Giggles. The sound actually infuriates me more than I can explain. But for some reason or another, I shouldn’t have woken up today. The headache I had didn’t help any, but it seemed every small thing that wasn’t perfect or proper, make me snap at it. Whether I showed it was one thing, but oh boy, did I ever feel it. Still, being in a group of people said you needed to tolerate your moods and suck it up, make things run smoothly, all that stuff.

“Just waiting for you to move that big arse of yours.” I joke. Make a laugh, at least myself, maybe it’ll lighten the mood. The journey wasn’t anything surprising or different from the past, it just picked a bad day to happen. At least I had Zalgo for company, which never really changes; I don’t remember time where we’ve been more than a couple yards away from each other.

Zalgo smiled at Kristie's little joke, turning back towards the empty wasteland and stepping forward. The brahmin started following slowly. The brahmin were always slow, but they were excellent pack mules and their meat was to die for when cooked properly, and boy, did he know how to cook Brahmin Steak.

As the started making their way down the trail. A charred twig snapped nearby, making Zalgo turn to face the cause. A Radroach scuttled away as quickly as it could, causing Zalgo to pull a BB gun off the brahmin's back, load it with 2 BBs, aim, and fire twice. The shots hit the radroach square in the legs and killed it.

"Hold! We got lunch!" He called, putting the BB gun back on the Brahmin, running to the dead Radroach, picking it up, and bringing it back over to the caravan. HE cut it into 2 portions, put it on a couple of tin plates, and served.

Dig in." He says before taking a bite from the legs.

“You look like an animal biting into that, you know that right?” I rolled my eyes at the sight, the whole situation actually, but it put a smile on my face to have a couple bullets fired off first thing. Plus, Zalgo really did look like a little boy ripping into a meaty leg that he’d been smelling and waiting for, for hours.

I took a couple steps pasted where the Brahmin were stopped and just spun a couple times around, just looking. “I’ll eat later.” I mumbled out, now just pacing around the dirt trail. “Not my type of red meat.” Ha, another joke, lame, but it kept me smiling. Still, I wanted a good laugh.

OOC- Is there like, an info page I could look at and actually get some knowledge on this? xD Lol. I had to Google a Radroach.
Also, I have to get off the computer -.- Sad, right? But my Mom, she's a bitch.

ooc: Of course there is. That link up there? Just search the creatures, armor, weapons, and anythign else you don't understand there and you'll find them.

bic: Zalgo rolls his eyes taking another bite from the radroach. "Right. Well, we'll save your piece for later then." He puts the other piece of Radroach meat in the sack they kept all their food. They were running low on Blamco Mac and Cheese, but they seemed to have a surplus of Pork'n'Beans in a can. 200 year old food, almost all of it.

Zalgo then walked up to another part of the Brahmin, which held a plastic cooler. He opened the cooler and pulled out a Nuka-Cola, popped the top, put the bottle cap in his pocket, and drank the thing right down. The savory grape and vanilla flavors of the drink were absolutely subline, which is probably it's the number 1 drink in the Wasteland. He then clicked on the radio on the Pipboy he had picked up from the dead male outside the Vault near Megaton. 101 he thought was the number. As soon as the radio clicked on, the voice said the following.

"Hello, nifty America. This is your President. John... *slight snicker* Henry... *Guffaw of laughter* HAHA! GOTCHA! Three Dog here! How's everyone doin'?"

"Oh, thank God. I thought for a second we were stuck on Enclave Radio." Zalgo said before sitting on a stump nearby to finish his roach meat.

"Tell me something, kiddies. Are you hungry for some 200 year old Salisbury Steak, or are you hungry for some news? I'm thinkin' news! Haha, here you go."

Zalgo rolls his eyes at the usual announcements. The raider presence in Springvale, Super Mutants and the Brotherhood of Steel fighting in downtown DC, Enclave troops rallying all over. But one thing made him turn up the radio in shock.

"So Three Dog's got a special visitor. Says his name is James and he came from Vault 101, the only Vault that hasn't opened yet. He's been wandering the wasteland, looking for a way to finish his wife's dream. How nice is that, kiddies? He's tryin'a help his dead wife! But get this, he doesn't know where he's going! He's completely lost as to where everything is! Listen, kids. If you see a guy wearing a lab coat with greying hair, help him out a bit. Give him some food, some water, anything to help him out. This is THREE DOG. AWWOOOO! Now, here's the music." And then, "Ain't That a Kick in the Head" by Dean Martin started playing.

"Hear that? Someone else got out of that Vault! 'Bout damn time, too, they've been missin' out on a lot, haven't they?" Zalgo said, smiling slightly.

So, someone finally got out of the Vault, eh? I bet the guy almost crapped himself once he got a good look around the outside, in the real world. Probably thought he was seeing things, that on his escape he’d been knocked out and didn’t remember a damn thing. It’s funny; he’d have to feel some pain before realizing this was his new home sweet home. “Oh yea, he’s been lacking the sandy fields and radiated air for some time now. If I was his wife, I’d be lookin’ down pissin’ myself laughing.” Chances are, his wife probably is.

“So, think we’ll see the man on our journeys? I’d love to hear how he got out, y'know, before he does something stupid and gets himself killed.”

"Maybe. Who knows where he's headed." Zalgo replied before picking up his empty plate and tying it back to the Brahmin. "Now let's go. Time's wastin'."

It was then that the radio started acting up, cfrackling a bit before actuqally turning to just static. Zalgo looked at his Pipboy, trying to figure out the problem. "The fuck...?" He knocked on it a couple times before finally just shutting it off. It was strange. The station was working fine, and suddenly, POOF! static.

"Huh. Guess we'll just have a quiet trip." Zalgo said.

“I could always start singing?” I smirked back at the rest of the group. That mood however was a lie, but I knew that people saw worried faces, they’d also worry. The radio shutting down wasn’t a regular thing to occur, in fact, I don’t think it’s ever happened unexpectedly. Something was entering the signal and interfering with the transmissions that kept us updated on the world of today. Not much happened, but on rare occasions, such as today, something else would pop up and catch our attention.

“But I won't kill y'ur ears. So, what'ya think this James guy plans on accomplishing alone? Seems a bit silly to think he'll make much difference alone, and without real know. You'd think someone who got out of the Vault had a bit more brains."

"I doubt he left without a purpose. Let's see, he was at Galaxsy News Radio... He could be headed to the Citadel. Possibly Rivet City. Maybe even the Jefferson Memorial. I heard they were trying to do something around there a while ago." Zalgo replied with a shrug, walking forward.

An Enclave Eyebot hovered past. He hated the things and their... Creepy eye shaped robot bodies and the fact the Enclave radio signal always played. The self-proclaimed "President of the Enclave of the United States of America" spoke.

"Let's talk about government, shall we? Or more specifically, your government, dear America. The Enclave. Just who is the Enclave? Why, now that's simple, the Enclave is you, America. The Enclave is your sister, your aunt, your friend, your, your neighbor. And well yes, the Enclave is me as well, heh heh, uh hah. As your president, it is my responsibility to preside over our great democracy. So, as your president, I am the voice, I am the heart, and soul of the Enclave. That is to say, I am the voice, heart, and soul of America. But only together, together, can we hope to reach our full potential. The way we were before the war. Whole. Beautiful. Powerful. One Enclave, One America. Now and Forever. And now, dearest America, we must say farewell. For there is much work to be done, and the Enclave never rests. Never."

"Oh, fuck you, you old dickhead." Zalg osaid before pulling a 10mm pistol off his belt and firing twice, blowing up the eyebot.

"Don't feed the Yao-guai! That is all."

“As your President, it is my responsibility to preside over our great democracy.” I quoted the Eyebot, mocking it in an unnaturally deep voice. “Democracy my left ass cheek you talking toaster.” I kicked at a piece of metal on the ground from the blast. “Ugly little buggers. I don’t know why the Enclave can’t develop something a little less annoying.” I personally wasn’t bother by the Enclave as much as others; if they talk, tune them out, if you don’t like something they say, ignore it, and if they say you have to do it, pretend you did and don’t.

“That’s twice you’ve gotten to shoot something though, takin’ all the fun away. The next television to start mumblin’ gets my metal.” I stepped over the rest of the small pieces of the debris and very slowly began walking back down the trail.

"Yeah yeah yeah. Next time." Zalg osays, smiling and placing the pistol back in its holster. "Jocko's Pop & Gas Station's comin' up. Might be some good stuff in there, if you wanna make a pit stop."

Sure enough, over the next dune, a shack near a gas station was standing watch over the wasteland around it. A couple of Radscorpions were scuttling along by the pumps of the gas station.

"Well, Kristie, you might just get your wish sooner than you think. Have at 'em." Zalgo says, keeping his hand on his Chinese sword for back-up.

I looked over the bank to see what Zalgo was talking about, a huge grin forming on my face once I caught sight of the Radscorpions. Only two of them, from what I could see, there may be another lurking around, but I highly doubt it. “The one on the left is REALLY fat…” The bigger they are, the bigger the messes they make when they blow up like a grenade – My favourite part about these things. “How about fuckin’ with one of them for a second.” With that I un-strapped the Assault Rifle from my back, unzipped it’s carrying bag and held it up. In an instant I looked over it, examining it, but mostly admiring it. I’d had this one for a long, long time, and would make sure it wasn’t one of the weapons we tossed on our journeys.

The Radscorpions were a 600-800m away, maybe closer. “Let’s scare the shit out of the little one, shall we?” I unloaded the bullet that was inside and took out a thin, metal tube that, when I clicked the top of it, a red light started flashing. I’d found two of these over three months ago poking around in some field, and used one to test it. I’d had this one tucked away, for just such a use. It was a good size, fit nicely into the gun when I loaded it. “18…17…16…15…” I counted with the beeps of the red light that I could hear inside the gun.

I knelt down, locked on the area the fat ass of a Radscorpion was in, “11…10…9” Locked onto the thing’s body, “8…7…6…” Locked onto the area just above it’s head, so I suppose the neck area and fired. I kept the few locked on the Radscorpion until I could see the red light ping its body and flash. The thing went into a small fit, trying to pick or itch at the area it was one. “3…2…1” And away he went. Its body was like an eggshell, once you got a hole, the rest just pours out. There was no solid debris of its body, just the mushy, liquid remains of the exploded carcass. “The little one doesn’t look too happy, he’s fidgeting around like he’s lost his head. You want it?”

Zalgo smiled, unsheathing his blade. "Don't mind if I do." He jumped over the dune, a couple pebbles rolling out from under him, alerting the Radscorpion to his presence. The radscorpion started scurrying over to him. Just as it got to him, he swung for the left legs, nicking them barely, making the radscorpion scurry back a little. Zalgo jumped back a little as the radscorpion's stinger lashed out, after which he took another slash, hitting the poison gland, making it burst all over the scorpion. IT started scuttling around in circles as the venom started eating away at its shell. Zalgo turned back to the caravan, sheathing his sword while the radscorpion suffered.

"Finish him, Kristie. Our kill count will be tied for the day." Zalgo said, chuckling.

I smirked, watching the tormented Radscorpion slowly die from the acid-like toxins creeping into the lines of its shell and skin. By now it would be touching the sensitive, non-shelled skin increasing the pain to just above unbearable. I slung the Rifle’s strap over my shoulder and head, and tightened the strap; I would never put it down or neglect it even for a second. Out of the back strap of the thick leather belt around my waist I pulled out a saw-off shotgun and looked back at the squirming creature. “Dammit!” I put away the shotgun and pulled out a Magnum from my side pouch, “Stupid son of a bitch”. I squeezed off about four bullets to its head and it dropped like a rock, however, for who gives a shit reasons, one if its back legs was twitching, so I fired off a fifth into the leg and it too stopped. “Fucking poison shit.” I would have aimed the shotgun right at it, but with the poison all over its body it could have sprayed onto us; A bloody disappointment that would bother me all damn day.

Zalgo chuckled at Kristie's swearing. "Mad because you couldn't get the expensive gland or because you couldn't get up close and personal with it to kill it?" He asked her, heading toward the shack near the gas station and opening the door. 3 Radroachesa scuttled out, looking to make a quick meal of the Radscorpion without the poison all over it. He saw an Enclave Vertibird fly overhead. He had an urge to shoot at it, despite knowing it wouldn't do a damned thing.

"C'mon. There's bound to be some good shit in here. Hell, might even find a Workbench to use." Zalgo said. "Speaking of which, we still got that lawnmower blade and motorcycle handbrake?" He asked, turning his head towards Kristie.

“A bit of both, mostly the second one. What’s the point if you can’t stain up the earth with the remains?” Uuuh.. That was morbid, even for me, but it made me smile none the less. The poison from these things sold for a good price if bargained well, and with a few tweaks and modifications, made one hell of a surprise weapon. One second your shrugging off a bullet in your shoulder, then your head and veins enflame as if with actually fire, and the next you’re in the real fires of hell. If we should see another one, we’ll have to make sure to kill it quickly and peacefully – What a fuckin’ shame.

“Lawnmower blade and motorcycle hand break.. It rings a recent bell. I’ll go take a look on the carts. You got something in mind?” I turned away from the shack and walked backwards to the carts to hear what he’d say.

"Oh, not much. Might be able to find a gas tank and a pilot light in there, and I remember these schematics I saw for some kinda shortsword-type thing. On fire." He replied. "Think they called it a... Shishkebab or somethin'."

He stepped in and saw an oven and a broken down motorcycle. "Well, lucky day, lucky day. Wouldja lookit that? And waddya know! A workbench!" Zalgo smiled, very excited. He could make something to replace his Chinese sword. 'Bout time, too. It was getting a bit... Rusty.

“Sounds hot. Get it? Cause it’s on fire! My God I’m historical.” With a big smile I rolled my eyes at myself and turned away from Zalgo’s direction. I lifted up one of the covers and poked around in the equipment. “Alright, I see the lawnmower blade! … Hand break… Hand break… Motorcycle hand break!” I pulled it out from underneath a pile and swung it up high with my hand, than placed it onto of the cart instead of back in to get mixed in the pile. I couldn’t wait to see this new toy.

I wouldn’t leave the cart now with some things uncovered, so I called over, “I call dibs on the metal rakes! Kristie has a beautiful idea for the points!”

"C'mon in, the place is great! Nuka-cola machine too!" Zalgo cal;led from inside the building. He stripped the motorcycle of its gas tank, which, suprisingly, was still in good repair. He then went over to the oven, opened it up, and was instantly met wit ha roasted human head.

"Oh, dear GOD that's rank! KRISTIE. WATCH FOR RAIDERS." He called out, pulling the head from the oven, along with the pilot light. He placed the gas tank and the pilor light on the workbench nearby, grabbing a hammer, a wrench, some rubber tubing, a couple pieces of scrap metal, and an oven mitt from nearby as well before heading back out. "Now toss me the handbrake and lawnmower blade. I'll fix it right up." He said, holding his hands out to catch the items.