Some people called them saloons, others just referred to them as bars. Every now and then you might find someone that still calls them 'watering holes' and such. Raymond had read about an American custom before the war, it lingered in his head. What if there was someone sitting in this same spot a few hundred years ago that had to have their ID checked in case they weren't old enough? Of course, that was a thing of the past. As long as there were caps in it, most people would sell just about anything to anyone. Of course, Raymond didn't see any kids in here, and that was probably for the best. The Resting Horse Saloon wasn't exactly the kind of name Raymond would have picked, but there were a good amount of people in the place. Alcohol wasn't all that rare, considering an abundance of it survived the war. It didn't expire, just aged. And a lot of people liked aged alcohol anyway.

Not that any of that mattered, Raymond was here for other matters, most likely work. Getting drunk probably wouldn't land him anywhere anyway. The town was big, and there were actual walls surrounding it. He'd seen makeshift signs that said "Steelington" on it, the name probably being inspired from the walls. The odds the walls were actually made of steel were very little, but it certainly made a good intimidation factor for anyone that wanted to take the place for their own. The population was pretty good, maybe sixty actual residents, everyone else being travelers or couriers. It seemed like the kind of place people could really settle down in, except for the fact that the remnants of New York City weren't far from there. From what Raymond could gather from people about it, if you were smart, you didn't wander into the city. Who owned it, Raymond wondered. Some group of people? A group of radiated beasts? Ghouls?

If Raymond wasn't so sure that he'd be a corpse upon entering, he'd seriously consider venturing in there. Who knows what could be waiting in those big tall buildings? The ones that were still standing anyway. That city could be a gold mine. Though, he supposed that with the Brothers of Steel having strong presence here, they might try to claim the city as their own. Or maybe the NCR or Legion would. To own such a strong hold would mean serious sway upon people's opinions and boost of morale too. Raymond ignored those thoughts, it seemed there was always politics going on everywhere.

For the time being, Raymond took a seat alone to think about his next move. He could always move north or south around the city. He envied the view this city offered though, in the distance you could still see some tall buildings that were still standing.

_________________

When Victor was growing up, his mother always told him he would get himself into trouble in the future. Victor would of course deny it, saying he would be fine and that she would be too. When she passed away, the second thing he said was extinguished from his mind, and he never once more told somebody they would be okay... because you could never tell anymore. If you survived a bullet, not two days later you could die from infection, if not from infection then from a mutated creature, if not a mutated creature... another person, even if you had helped them at some point in there life. In such cases, most of the time your lifeline was your ammunition and your wits, if you were sneaky you are best sticking to that.

He made it his business to remember this from his first tour in with the NCR's and his past with his family when they were at least somewhat together. Morale of the story is that you don't get injured, don't ever fully trust or make immediate contact with somebody without base knowledge of them and for the sake of your life do not investigate any weird creatures. As a side note, Victor also made it his business to apparently break these rules almost all the time whether he likes to or not... so technically, he had also completely proved right the first thing she said... that he would get himself into trouble and boy did he. Currently, he was behind a vehicle, Anti material rifle perched on it's hood, scope zoomed in on a pair of raiders chasing a Caucasian women with brown hair down the road, and he could tell from her attire that she was previously a slave. Though if she was a slave to the raiders originally, he did not know nor care.

One of Victors rules was 'Do not kill an individual if you do not have to', but as one of the raiders raised a shotgun to her back and the other a knife in his hand. Victor had to act, taking another of his rules into action which was 'Help any innocent persons in need'. Quickly, as the raiders finger flicked to the trigger. Victor took a shot, blasting the raider directly in the hands, which was unfortunate as he had been aiming for his forearms... what could he say, moving targets were harder to hit. The women quickly tried taking cover, falling to the ground as she panicked as the raider previously using the shotgun was on the ground. The horrified and pained expression on his face explaining it all while his raider friend looked around also in a panicked confusion not even worried about his badly injured comrade on the ground. Slowly, Victor tipped his sights to the raiders leg. Popping a bullet into one of them as he fell to the ground, then the other so he could not get up.

The Ranger shot to his feet, tossing the sniper over his shoulder and drawing his .44' Magnum revolver. Quickly checking to see if it was loaded correctly as he walked toward his most recent and subdued victims. The only thing he was worried about was the shot gun on the ground behind the raider who got shot in the hands and dropped it along with the women who was hugging her head to her knees in shock, not even having it in her to run. He closed the pace between them quickly, and it was when the man he shot in the legs finally dragged himself to the shot gun that Victor shook his head slowly.
"Don't be stupid!" he shouted to the raider through his helmets speaker.

When the raider finally got himself dragged to the shotgun, and his friend passed out from it all. Victor aimed his revolver "Don't do it, no... don't!" the raider aimed the shotgun, and The Ranger shot. His bullet piercing the raider in the chest area, it did not take long for his enemy to let go of the weapon, head falling back as the life left him. Leaving Victor to lower his gun slowly in a dramatic fashion. When he turned to the women, she was sprinting away, not ready to take chances with a man in full ranger combat gear and she obviously did not know what a ranger was despite him setting off on his own. He walked away from the scene, leaving the one dead raider and the one unconscious one to the road, at least he presumed the raider was only unconscious but he could be wrong.

"It never changes..." he murmured, his steps taking him in the direction of the distant tall buildings. Hoping at least slightly that there would be a safe place to stay on the way or at the large city. Not knowing any better about the ruined city of New York having never been there before... and not knowing exactly what city he was looking at to begin with. Hopefully there will be a sign on the way telling me what I am looking at... he thought to himself silently, as that was all you could do while you were alone in these wastes.

_________________


"Don't Lose That 'Little Spark of Madness' "-Personality Test Website.
And you thought I did not fit in here.

KimRae clung to the shadows as she moved up Fifth Avenue. She was careful to avoid the alley where she had seen ghouls eating a dead body. She knew she was no match for any of the ghouls. Just thinking of them made her wary. Something was up today. She could feel it in her bones, an intuition that had served her well.

As she slipped around the corner to 86th and ignored the crumbling mansions that were overgrown with vines, she noticed fresh markings. The houses were tagged with various ownership affiliations but none that KimRae cared to become more familiar with. The tags indicated that someone used the places from time to time and who it was, not as a welcome mat but as a warning to stay away. They didn’t need to worry about KimRae invading their space.

Tapping the pocket low on her thigh, KimRae prepared to cross the street, the worst time of exposure, in effort to return to her camp in Central Park. There were many shadows in the park and Brothers of Steel who patrolled there, so she felt as measure of safety there. Taking a deep breath and looking in all directions, all she could see was an armoured vehicle rumbling up from the south in the far distance. She ran full tilt across the empty intersection.

When the first spat of angry gunfire erupted at her feet, KimRae cursed to herself, glad that she no longer had the responsibility of any of the Abandoned. She had lost one of the twins in a situation just like this and sleep had not been her ally for many years after that. Having no one but herself to care for had made her complaisant. Not looking up, she ran a zig zag pattern across the street where once again shadows concealed her.

“Keep running. Run until you are worn down. I will make you submit or you will die like the rest.” Came the mocking voice, high up on her right side.

She didn’t respond. There was no need. This was an old fight and one that would have to end in death. She didn’t plan on it being hers. She fingered the knives at her waist, touched the knives sheathed on her wrists and felt reassured at the knives nestled in the tops of her boots. KimRae was not one who enjoyed killing. Even the throwing knives in their leather pouch in her pocket, which were hard won spoils of battle, didn’t bring her pleasure in knowing of her ability to defend herself in self- defense. But learn to defend herself and the Abandoned, she did. All the knives were taken from the bodies of those who had under estimated her, with the exception of the first blade. That person had died of poison, a gruesome agonizing death.

Once in Central Park, still clinging to the shadows, she made her way to her small cold camp, not far from the station of the Brothers of Steel. Through the bushes she could see the sun glinting from their metal armor and hear the clinking of their boots on the street. All was peaceful here. No mutants, no ghouls and no one trying to disturb life. With a sigh, she settled back to eat the cheese and bread she had scavenged from a dumpster. As luck would have it, she had also found about a quarter of a bottle of water, which was all anyone could safely drink. So for now, she had all her basic needs met. Food, water, shelter and safety but now was when the longing for someone besides herself for company came flooding back.

Life was simpler without the Abandoned to care for. The Abandoned was what they called themselves. The children, orphaned, abandoned by family unable or unwilling to care for them, abandoned by a society that was struggling to survive, must less care about nurturing children. But now, as she lay down on the bed of rags under the low growing bushes, Kimberly Raelean Dobbs wished she was not so alone.

_________________
http://youtu.be/89Zrto8bq7k

Nothing is better than spending time with those you love, and being with the Brotherhood of Steel, Cyprus learned this early in his time with them. He was only a plucky young boy when they found him with those slavers from Caesar's Legion, and when the two factions met, only blood was to be split. Luckily for Cyprus, they were not savages and speared him a hollow point to the brain. They then brought him back to The Empire Wasteland (a long trip on foot, but it was worth it) where they cleaned him up and gave him his own T-51B power armor and made him a knight.

These days, however, it was mostly Super Mutants and raiders that he had to put down now. Every other day on patrol there would be one of those ugly bastards opening his mini-gun on unsuspecting travelers and he had to go put it down. It was the mundane routine of killing that came with the armor, but at least he had a roof over his head when he came back and some food to eat when he got hungry, because Grand Central Station seemed to be the only friendly place for miles.

Thwack! Cyprus heard the dry sound of his head knocking against the wood of a Super Mutant's nail board, and just like that he was on the ground, trying to understand what just happened. "Argh!" The thing yelled in pain as other knights peppered it with lead and laser; revenge for hitting one of their own. Not long after that did he hear the unmistakable sound of a large body falling and with that the mutant was down. "Get up, Brother!" Shouted a knight behind his helmet and with that Cyprus was on his feet and he got his AER9 laser rifle back. Just in time too, because two other super mutants had shown up.

These were not regular Super Mutants, these guys were brutes. They were faster, tougher and a whole lot uglier and they also had mini-guns with them. Just another day at the office. Cyprus thought to himself. War never changes. Crouching behind a car, he could see the two mutants blasting away at the others, but they hadn't seen him yet. Using that advantage, he rose up from behind the car and threw a frag grenade in the direction of the two. When it blew up, neither fell, but he could see that he had crippled the leg of one and damaged the head of the other, just perfect.

He got up again and looked around, he still saw the two of them firing. Do those damn things run out of ammo? He asked himself. Wait, is one of them coming towards me?

And just like that, one of they Super Mutants had left his brother and was coming towards Cyprus, the cause of his crippled leg. "Oh.." Cyprus struggled for words, he had to thing fast or he was going to die, and he didn't want to die now, not like this.

_________________
"Only $199,999!

Raymond didn't sit still very long before his eyes began wandering around. What was it about the eerie view in the distance? He'd seen big buildings before, but none so close. It looked like a few miles away at most. Anything civil that was standing in the wasteland, whether the settlement be small or large, was either taken from someone else or built from the ground up. And Raymond had seen many things made into settlements. Shacks made of scrap metal in the middle of nowhere, lives built in caves, subway stations with beds in them, houses suiting several families. Towns like this were the good ones, but as Raymond stared out at what was once known as New York City, he couldn't help but think about what it was once like. What was waiting in that city anyway?

His train of thought was interrupted by the sound of footsteps that were getting louder than the voices, some quiet and some loud. Raymond's head turned to see a man that just didn't belong. He looked as though he was groomed, and his clothes didn't show any signs of wear and tear on them. His clothes were formal, something Raymond thought only mattered in places like New Vegas. And yet, hear this man was, in a suit. Black, as though he was attending a pre-war funeral. The man just calmly walked towards him, without worry or fear.

"You're new in town, I see." The man said, his voice came out more raspy than Raymond expected.

"I am. Just passing through. Why?" Raymond spoke, almost defensively. His lack of how to sweet talk didn't land him any browny points.

"I can just cut to the chase-" The man said, taking a seat across from Raymond. "or, we can talk all day. Travelers need work. Do they not?" The man said, spotting a sly smile afterwards.

Ray continued to look at him, a little skeptical at first. It was true, he did need work, but this didn't set right with him. "Say your piece." Raymond finally replied.

The man's grin remained on his face. "My name is William Purnell. I come from an association that would very much like a less broken version of this." The man pulled out a key, or the half in which someone would use to turn it. The other half was missing.

"I don't really deal in metal wor-" Raymond began to speak, but was hushed by the man.

"You said to say my piece, and now I am." Raymond shot him a very dissatisfied look, but kept quiet. "See. There were a great number of these keys made. They were made using sciences not available to me or my associates. There's a number printed on all of them." William slipped a piece of paper, something not so common these days, to Raymond. All that it read was '08131942' in black ink. "A good amount of these keys were stored in Manhattan, that's a section of that big city you're gawking at. Others were spread around in the city. If you find the means to bring one of these keys back to me, I'll pay you more caps than you can possibly hold on your body."

"How many caps are we talking?" Raymond asked, almost with instinct. In the wasteland, bottle caps, which were the new currency, could be the difference between comfortable life and a slow painful death.

"A half a million caps. Whether you wish to seek these out alone or with others, whoever brings me the key will get a different key. One that opens a storage container with the reward."

"I thought nobody that entered New York City came back alive?" Raymond questioned.

"That's quite frankly, a lie. The Brotherhood of Steel operates in the city quite often. Though, they're quite commonly hammered out of their positions. They keep it pretty well hidden by accident, as they aren't able to save many people who wander the streets. You'll find some feral beings around, but if you play your cards right, you'll never have to worry again."

Raymond paused to think about it. "Where... where should I look? What does the key even lead to? Why do you need it?"

It's for my associates, and they're not the kind to hire people who can't keep a secret. You'll have to find your own way. And if you do, I'll be here. If not, I'm sure someone else will. And with that, the man walked away. He didn't even ask for Raymond's name, much less treat him properly. Still, for that amount of money, Raymond couldn't argue. It wasn't long before he was getting up to leave the saloon, he'd have killed to have had a pipboy. The kinds of maps they'd offer would have been priceless in this scenario.

_________________

Now, Cyprus has stared down the barrels of guns countless times in the past, but this was different. This thing had six barrels and they were spinning! They were the harbingers of destruction and death, and Cyprus came to realize this all too quickly. But, something had stirred inside him, it was pent up rage. Rage from seeing those two ugly savages gun down most of the patrol, leaving dismembered limbs and blood in their wake and rage from realizing that if these things got past them, the other knights holed up in Grand Central Station would have to feel the brunt of a full-on Super Mutant attack. So, Cyprus had to think fast, before this thing killed him and killed all the others too.

He got up from behind the car he was taking cover against and began firing wildly in the direction of the Super Mutant, hoping to stop it from coming any closer. The Brute took a good number of hits to the face and arms before returning fire in Cyprus, who eventually ducked once he saw the lead flying in his direction. Checking to see how many energy cells he had left, he realized that twenty wasn't enough to bring down the one that was shooting at him, much less the two of them. But, he kept firing anyway in the hopes that he somehow manages to kill it. But it proved fruitless as shot after shot impacted the Brute and it remained standing, almost as if it got stronger by the blasts. Not long after this barrage did Cyprus hear the unmistakable click from his laser rifle, and it was at that time his stomach dropped to the floor as all hope seeped out of him. So, he hid behind the car and tossed the laser rifle to one side, hoping that somehow, somewhere, that someone saves him from death.

Just then, a gun's crackle his heard a good distance away from his position. Then, a loud, blood-curdling shriek and finally a thud. Another crackle his heard, then a yelp, then another shot and another thud. Confused and scared, Cyprus gazed over the wreckage and saw the lifeless bodies of the two Brutes that were slaughtering his patrol not too long ago.

Running out into the open, Cyprus makes mental notes of his surrounding: seven dead, five wounded, six (including him) remained standing. His gaze is then directed on the source of the sniper fire, and his eyes were greeted with the sight of light reflecting off of something metallic, a gun, no doubt. He waved his arms to the sniper to let them know that they were still alive and it was not long before they came, took those who survived back to base (for some hot Radroach meat) and burned the bodies of the dead; their ashes stored in jars and kept within the Station.

Cyprus then retired to his bed, trying to forget what had transpired earlier. It was his custom to sleep after every battle, so he could forget and keep his mind clear of the distractions of war, but everyone knew that it affected him, because even the toughest of knights are still human, even if they are covered head to toe in steel plundered from the ashes of war.

_________________
"Only $199,999!

KimRae shook her head as she relaxed under the bush. Once again her general whereabouts had been discovered and it was just a matter of time before she was not safe in the park. She had relied on the Brothers of Steel maintaining order here and adding an intimidation factor to deter that idiot from following her home. Now she realized she had only be fooling herself. She was getting lax now that the Abandoned were gone.

The last few days she had scouted around, trying to find possible places to crash. In New York City, finding a safe place was nearly impossible. What she needed was to find some Rangers to hang out close to. They were more human than the Brothers of Steel and in hand to hand combat were much tougher. Lacing her fingers behind her head, she smiled dreamily to herself.

She liked Rangers, bad ass, that is what they were, like her, only ramped up. She had seen a few striding about the city, those long dusters swirling around their boot tops. There was an air of don't mess with me about them that caused her breath to catch in her throat and her heart to pound a little faster. She, on occasions, like now, contemplated what that meant and for the life of her, she had no idea. Ghouls actually ran when they caught wind of a Ranger in the area. She wondered if one of the Brothers could take them. KimRae only had confidence in street ethics, real fighting, real combat. So, she would put all three of the bottle caps she owned on a Ranger, every time.

Not that the Brothers of Steel were a joke. They had all those lasers and high tech stuff, but everyone knew that sometime or another, technology would fail and then all you could count on was yourself. All that steel plate and fire power, well, it would probably take the day if it came to an out and out battle, like with those Super Mutants. She rolled to her side, to peer out through the bushes. Just thinking of those freaks set her teeth on edge.

Like a sore tooth that becomes the central focus of the tongue, KimRae probed at the real danger that she was in and that was Travis. He was becoming a better sniper, or at least his shots were coming closer each time. One thing that kept him from actually winging her was the fact that he allowed his emotions, his hatred of her, to cloud his vision and judgment. She had loved him once, been his girl’s closest thing to a sister. She thought he had been close to her, too, like family. When Viv had been eaten by a ghoul, he had blamed her and he had tracked her all over this city in an attempted to make her suffer.

KimRae wiped the tears off her cheeks. Soon she would be forced to move, to maybe one of the old burned out craters in the center of town. Soon, but not right now.

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http://youtu.be/89Zrto8bq7k

For his many faults, Victors worst one was when he took his first steps into the city. The wide streets seeming to echo at even the expert sneak of his boots, the sound casting a skin crackeling and spine tingling eariness to him. He was to turn a corner when a wave of danger seemed to erupt in his senses, so he drew his .44 for another time that day. Checking and manually loading his one missing shot which was buried in that raider from earlier. He slipped the corner and with facinating agility scoped out the area for danger. Large bodies of Super Mutants layerd the street with calculated targetting along with other bloody patches... but no bodies.

Crouching near one, he studied the corpse with intrest. Hand investigating the wounded flesh, and what he found slightly disturbed him. Fingers held up the remnents of ashen skin... while other areas on the body also seemed disintigrated slightly. The final shot to the head he assumed was ballistics since there was no ashen skin. "High level priority on using energy weapons... possibly a branch of the brotherhood of steel... though I highly doubt it is the same branch as from the mohavi" his voice in hushed tones. Slowly his eyes followed a trail of blood going into the building behind him, slowly shifting to a standing position. Victor walked up to the structure... and he put his head close to the wall.

Even with his helmet on sounds of heavy breathing could be heard. His eyes widening under his visor the Rangers thumb loaded his revolver slowly, then the click of a bullet ready to fire and the sounds of not heavy breathing; but of a large creature ripping through a not so solid wall. No time to do anything but brace himself as a ramming Super Mutant collided into him. Time slowing down as the wind was knocked out of him and he was sent sprawling through the air. If you had binoculars you could see the dust get knocked off his shoulders while he went a meter away from where he was standing and right into a car. Rolling over the hood and falling on his back.

He felt like he was high off chems or heavily intoxicated as he tried looking around. Vision upsided down and bleary as he realized the Super Mutant had him picked up into the air against a wall by his neck. His right arm which held his revolver was being slammed repeatedly to its concrete like surface and being crushed by the Super Mutants actual hand at the same time as victor apparently still gripped his fire arm, how? his joints probably locked up in shock or something. Victors lungs screamed for air and out of pure incoharent survival instinct he ripped his combat knife from his belt and stabbed the thing in the eye not once, but four times before its brain shut down and it fell back.

Victor fell as well and ripped his helmet off. Left hand clasping his neck as he took some much needed breaths. His right hand braced at the fingers and set at an awkward angle. Most of his vision black as he fed his brain and his lungs much needed oxygen. Almost passing out with the effort... but not quite yet.

_________________


"Don't Lose That 'Little Spark of Madness' "-Personality Test Website.
And you thought I did not fit in here.

Raymond wasn't sure what was worse. The walk to New York City or being in New York City. With a direct road, but the destination always in site, he set off. After a supply check anyway. Stimpacks, as always, he kept in as much of an abundance as possible. Clean water and RadAway were always important to have, though never easy to find. When it came to Stimpacks, he could at least make them with some chems. RadAway wasn't so simple though, and neither was pure water. He was low on ammo and spare chems and parts, though that was the story of everybody's life it seemed. Every time you happen to find caps or supplies, you're dangerously low anyway. Every stimpack was a life saver, and every bullet was a miracle. And anything you could trade for something you needed was as equally important. Raymond sighed at that thought, he was as good at scavenging as the next guy, but when it came to gold hidden in plain sight, he couldn't see it. When it came to medicine, weapons, and technology, he knew the good stuff. When it came to water, safes, locked doors, and hidden places, things weren't always so easy.

As he walked a fair distance from the road, as he didn't trust it, his hand never left the revolver that hung on his waist. He couldn't be sure what it was, other than that it was a revolver that took .357 and .38 bullets. He'd measured the barrel before, four inches. He couldn't be sure what technology it was, it was certainly pre-war, but the brand was unknown. Any sign of it had been scratched or otherwise covered from wear and tear. The gun thankfully still shot well. Despite how careful Raymond was, he encountered nothing on the way to the city. Maybe nobody traveled this way, and hence there was no point in raiders setting up ambushes. He didn't even encounter and stray animals while walking. The road was just silent, with an eerie feeling surrounding it. Raymond dreaded what the city would be like if the road had him this weary.

Entering the city was the worst of it. Shells of cars and buses lined the streets, and broken buildings were everywhere. With each tall building, he thought there could be a sniper. But his thoughts always worked logically. With the architecture instability on most of these tall buildings, going that high up would snap a support and leave the sniper on the ground. With each step, Raymond couldn't dare ignore the silence that his feet broke. He stepped as quietly as he could, but if there was an ambush waiting? They'd find him. Raymond passed several bodies, all of them having been scavenged for anything at all useful. A good amount of the bodies were decayed. With each body, he had to wonder what had killed them. Some had deep scratch marks. Others were killed with blunt trauma. Some had bullet holes and others were burnt with lasers.

It was then that Raymond heard commotion. Large vibrations made running sounds, but they couldn't be that of a man. Maybe a deathclaw or a super mutant. Raymond wasn't exactly eager to go find a fight, but so far he didn't have a lead at all as to where he should look. With some care, he decided he'd go and spectate upon whatever this commotion was. Poking his head around the corner after navigation, he happened to see the final few stabs upon a super mutant. His gun had already been out at this point, but he chose not to aim it at this man. Not when he identified his armor anyway. NCR. In New York.

The NCR were always righteous, Raymond knew that much. Sure, they may be politically a little greedy, but their motives were good. In this case, this man had gotten his 'black armor' that many NCR troops strived to obtain. Perhaps it was the fact that he was NCR that Raymond didn't raise his gun, or perhaps it was that Raymond could use the help of a ranger.

Raymond's gun was still in his hand, but it wasn't raised at the man. It was more of a safety precaution, almost everyone in the wasteland owned a gun for just that reason. "Hey, you good?" Raymond asked, walking over to the man struggling for air. "I can patch you up." Raymond offered, not having much small talk in mind. "Nice...kill." Raymond said, to fill the absence of words.

_________________

Hand not numb anymore, but in definitive pain. Victor was still a little bit dizzy and disorientated, but when he came through it was then that a random man had come to his apparent aid. Few words were heard by Victor until he could focus... though the man could probably just not have spoke much to his knowledge. When he did come to and regained his senses, Victor nodded to the random stranger. "Oh come on, its not so bad-" he held his pained right hand and wrist tightly "Okay, yeah... take a look at it." He murmured between clenched teeth, coughing slightly as he got used to air in his lungs again. Slowly, he let go of his hand no matter the pain of it and showed it to the man, not knowing if his hand was dislocated or broken by the Super Mutants massive grip. The man had also spoken of a 'nice kill' and Victor cringed slightly. "Sure, whatever you say" he said, the lightest of humor in his tone, though in his head he wondered if "Nice Kill" was all people thought about in this world now since the years when this all started.

He reached a hand behind his back, touching his sniper and making sure it was there before he reached across himself and grabbed his .44 scoped magnum revolver with his only usable hand. Inspecting it in a quick manner before lowering it and his hand onto his lap. Despite the appearance of peace at the moment, he kept his hand on the gun and his finger on the trigger. Looking around, he did not ask for the other guys name. "So, tell me... what city is this, though from the brother hood of steel and the super mutants I would imagine I have taken a serious wrong turn and into the heart of the most dangerous place around the capital wastes... New York?" he guessed with more certainty then he wanted.

"Just to let you know, I did not kill the other super mutants, just the single one here... I have reason to believe that the Brother hood did, so if you have beef with them or something of the like I would recommend not heading this direction of the city. But then again, would any other direction be better."

_________________


"Don't Lose That 'Little Spark of Madness' "-Personality Test Website.
And you thought I did not fit in here.

The man agreed to let Raymond look at it, that much was a good sign. Though the way he put that revolver on his lap, Raymond could tell he might have a bullet in him at any second if he made a bad move. Not that he could blame him, that's how the world was. Those who lowered their guns were often met with a bullet. Though for the time being, Raymond didn't have a choice. In order to medically analyze this man's arm and wrist, he'd need both his hands. For the time being, Raymond but his revolver back in his holster. And took a look at his wrist, taking care not to put a whole lot of pressure on it. Not that he thought it'd matter. This guy earned the black armor, as the NCR commonly referred to it. Pain was something he'd probably seen a good deal of.

"They've done alright by me." Raymond said, referring to the Brotherhood of Steel. "That is to say, the NCR has done good too. Though, I'm not so sure how happy they'll be to see you considering you ruined their branch in the west." The NCR had gone to war with the Brotherhood of Steel for a time, that war taking place mostly in the Mojave Wasteland. Though, the battle of Hoover Dam had put them at a stalemate. These days they certainly weren't friends, but they also weren't classified as allies. It was as though the war was just put on hold for the time being, though plenty of hard feelings still rested on both sides. Putting light points of pressure against his wrist, the bone was still in tact as far as he could tell, possibly damaged though. "I'd be very interested to know if the Brotherhood is attempting to take control though. And you'd be right by the way, formerly known as Manhattan actually, this is New York City."

"It doesn't appear broken. Though definitely sprained. Probably prone to breaking if you punch anyone too hard at this point." Raymond said, maybe exaggerating that last part. "Y'know, it was a suggested method by doctors before the war to inform patients that a shot might 'sting a little' before giving them the shot so that they didn't panic." Raymond said, taking a stimpack from a pouch connected to his armor. "I don't think I've seen a single person afraid of needles though." Raymond said. "What brings you here?" Raymond asked, displaying the stimpack to him. "May I?" He asked for permission, though if the man agreed, he'd inject the stimpack into his wrist, it'd fix him right up.

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Victor smiled softly and grimmly "A part of the NCR history I am not proud to carry... and there many more things I am not proud of either" he nodded "but I am sure you don't want to know about the other things" he said it as more a suggestion to not ask about the other stuff. "About the whole thing with the brotherhood... last I heard before-" he stopped to think of a way to say it. "-before investigating things in the capital here. Was that the brotherhood is more active then usual, now I advise you to again be careful around what major factions are left, escpecially around the New California Republic and The Brotherhood Of Steel... if the brotherhood keeps making sudden jumps at controlling hotspots the other groups may get worried about there own territory, and that could mean higher tensions and then war as you well know."

"Anyway if you inject that stimpack to my wrist... I will be sure to get out of your crosshairs with the thought that I owe you one." Victor laid down his gun to pick up his helmet then put it on. Continuing to get his gun again. "You have been oddly hospitable for a wastelander. It's good to see some kind people out here still" his voice accompanied by that slight static like radio tone you got when wearing the Ranger helmet and when it's functions are working.

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"Don't Lose That 'Little Spark of Madness' "-Personality Test Website.
And you thought I did not fit in here.

In a few minutes, however, Cyprus could be seen leaving the compound again. This time he was a group of Journeymen who were equipped with Gatling lasers, and all he had was a a dusty old CZ53 minigun that jammed when he needed it the most. They had walked a few miles down 42nd street and made it towards the Chrysler Building, which was said to have been a Super Mutant camp. "Cyprus?" asked Journeyman Adrian, "You seemed troubled."
"I'm not trouble," he replied as he gripped the handles of the gun tighter, "I'm just thinking, that's all."
"My brother was among the dead, you know."
Cyprus stopped ad faced Adrian, "I'm sorry for your lose, Adrian. I had no idea that-"
"It's nothing," Adrian interrupted, "he always said he wanted to die a knight, in this armor."
"But still, you must be sad about it." This time the others stopped to listen in on the conversation.
"I am, but I choose to not let my emotions get ahead of me. Just like you."
Cyprus sighed and continued to move towards the building. Was this really all worth it? He thought, Was all this death and destruction necessary?


They pressed on, wondering what the danger might be inside of that building. For all they may know it might not have a single thing at all. Or, it might have all of the Super Mutants still in New York under it. There's only one way to find out, however, and Cyprus didn't like that way.

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"Only $199,999!

“Wake up!” the echoing voice commanded as a steel toe of a boot nudged her side. KimRae’s eyes snapped open and she leaped to her feet, knife in hand instantaneously. Her thick braid quivered at her back, the only sign of disequilibrium in her stance. The flashlight burned into her eyes, obscuring her vision and giving her the look of a cornered animal. “Hand over the weapon. Ordinance 14 forbids civilians to have weapons.” The voice barked at her. KimRae let the knife slide to the ground, glad the other weapons were hidden and they were not frisking her.

“You must vacate the grounds,” the voice ground out in clipped syllables. He, KimRae assumed it was a man from the high and breadth of the armored body. “You are in violation of Ordinance 51. No person, human or otherwise is to inhabit this park after hours. You clearly have been squatting here and are in violation of Ordinance 55. On second thought, we need to take you to the Inquisitor. I have probable cause that you are a spy, perhaps in league with rebels. Your kind pollutes the Brotherhood and therefore are enemies.”

“Really, Journeyman Knight Kasar, you get a promotion and now you think you are a Paladin.” Came a softer, female version of the echoing voice from the other soldier. This one was covered head to foot in the shining metal body armor but KimRae had the sense the wearer was female. To KimRae, the softer voiced one said,

“You do have to leave and we will escort you from the park so that we know you are gone. We will go now. Take five minutes to gather anything you might want to take with you.”

“Senior Squire,” the tone was sarcastic and full of obnoxious authority. “I hold the rank and I have decided this one goes to the Inquisitor. If you object, you may lodge a formal complaint.” To KimRae, who had managed to stuff the last of her meager supplies in a backpack, he said, “Now. Go.”
He nudged her shoulder, nearly knocking the slight girl over but she lifted her chin and headed in the direction he indicated. Her skin crawled as they walked freely though the well-lit areas. Theirs were the only feet on the well-worn path. The ringing of the steel boots was in perfect unison while hers made a slight scuffing that was double time to their rhythm.

They marched her through the next mile or so, not even pausing for caution. KimRae didn’t dare look to the left or right and icy fingers seemed to crawl down her spine. She had the distinct sense she was going to her death. The Brothers of Steel flanked her as they turned down the street where overturned and rusted out cars littered the two lanes. Craters where smoking residue curled up to show recent destruction pocked the sidewalks. Blood spattered the decaying walls of buildings and the stench of burned out Super Mutants clung to the air. KimRae hated this part of the City. She felt exposed and vulnerable, two feelings she had come to learn to trust.

She was carefully glancing around, doing her best to not alert the Brothers of Steel. KimRae’s long years of survival depended on having a plan, an escape route, a plan B. She didn’t want to try to run, those lasers they carried weren’t hampered by long range. The one Brother she might be able to reason with but that other one was having a power trip.

When they were close to the entrance to the Brother’s of Steel headquarters, all hell broke loose. Sirens began wailing and a troupe pounded out the doors, calling to the two with her,
“Knight, Squire. Fall in. Super Mutants.” Came the clipped command.

The big soldier turned his armored face toward her but his sense of obedience was too strong. The smaller of the two pointed toward the city, in a vague shooing gesture. KimRae didn’t need to be told twice. She faded into the shadow of the building and raced off down the street.

Lungs burning, KimRae crept into a shell of a vehicle and took the partial bottle of water from her pack. She felt hidden from sight, slumped down in the seat but she could hear the pleasant rumble of men’s voices on the far side of the car. Slowly, she eased over to look cautiously over the windowsill.

One man was putting a stimpack on the other’s wrist. Her breath caught in her throat. A Ranger!. A Real live Ranger. She pressed her back against the seat and eased back out the other side, hoping she was quiet enough to get away without being detected.

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http://youtu.be/89Zrto8bq7k

As Raymond was injecting the needle into the man's wrist, alarms suddenly rang in the distance. And barely audible over the sound of that, laser fire could be heard too. Raymond was quick to stand up, his eyes darting in the direction of the sound. Thankfully there were all sorts of tall buildings in the way of whatever the commotion was. "I would have done it for anyone." Raymond said, his voice now changed from calm to tense. But ready, nonetheless. The sirens echoed throughout the streets, it was a definite concern. Who the hell could possibly be sounding those? Any sirens that would be operational after centuries wouldn't be triggered now for no reason. No, this had to be something installed after the war. "But, if you want full honesty." Raymond began. "You were coincidentally an NCR ranger. That's the kind of person I wouldn't mind sticking around with in a hell hole like this. Even if it's only for a short while." Raymond said, his hand reaching for his revolver once more. Sure, he had a Ranger that would likely stand with him now, but his gun had gotten him out of jams before. And he was sure this man wouldn't appreciate being hid behind.

As his revolver was in his hand once more, he was about to ask the man his opinion on their next move. But what stopped him was the sound of the siren cutting off. But laser fire was still rapidly heard in the distance. "Could be Brotherhood." Raymond suggested. "Those idiots!" Raymond said in an angry tone, as though they were in front of him. "Who the hell installs a siren in the middle of a ghost town full of mutants?" All that followed was a sigh, his head changing directions multiple times. They could go towards the commotion. On one hand, that meant more people. On the other hand, that meant whatever it was those people were shooting at. One thing was for sure, anything that heard that would probably be heading in this direction. And it was time to act, not linger. The sounds of lasers in the distance were feint, but still, if he could hear it so could anyone else. He looked to the ranger. "I think the smartest idea would be-"

It was suddenly in that moment he heard a noise, coming from a car not far from them. At least, the shell of what a car would have been centuries ago. Raymond assumed the ranger heard as well. His revolver point at the car, the hammer now clicked backwards. "Probably not human, could be a deathclaw cub." Raymond suggested, not considering the combat strategy of the event. "We could scurry. Just suggesting that."

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Pulling his glove back on and his head turning to the sirens, he absorbed everything that was happening at this moment. "Yeah I imagine it would be the brotherhood but I do not know why they would have sirens going off, only if there was something very serious going on and most of there personnel were out away from base and needed them back asap." He did notice some dust and a small marble sized piece of cement from the building fall onto his shoulder. Though when he looked up there was nothing. Slowly, he stood up and being to aim his revolver up at the windowsill just before Ramond gave a warning, and his .44 then changed direction right to the car. As a large tail whipped out from behind the broken down vehicle and the spine and ears of an animal poked out over the top, Victor froze.

"It's a Deathclaw alright, but I cannot say for certain that it is a cub." He whispered in a stiff tone of voice. Quickly, he looked up at the building that had the noise, then once more back to death claw. Under his helmet, frustration and indecisiveness covered his features. Come on Victor, it's death claw, just whip out your anti material rifle and the problem is done with.... unless there is more then one near by, then I would probably doom us all... and it's only a matter of time before it moves in the direction that the now silent sirens were blaring in. he looked again to the building. What ever is up there, it cannot be any worse then a Deathclaw. "Okay, so we can either run around the building in hopes of getting away without making to much noise and also hoping the Deathclaw does not scent us over the Super mutant bodies. Or, we can go in this building behind us despite the fact that there might be something else in it. Huddle up, then try to find another window to jump to another building. That way we can be above ground if it scents or hears us. Also, we can try to kill it, but I also cannot guarantee that there is not more then one Deathclaw." He kept his gaze on the car now "I will help you out as long as I can, that is why I am here"

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"Don't Lose That 'Little Spark of Madness' "-Personality Test Website.
And you thought I did not fit in here.

As they entered the Chrysler building, Cyprus saw what was once a place full of voices and bodies shuffling to and fro. A very busy place, indeed. Now, it was a shell of what it once was, deep holes in the ground, lights flickering, paint peeling off the walls and the ever-growing fear that someone or something was going to grab you and kill you. He had heard stories of what life was like before the War, how people would come to buildings just like these and do their jobs, all hoping to collect a paycheck at the end of the month, it seemed as though people were kinder to others back that, but if they were, the world wouldn't be the stinking, God-forsaken place it is now, now would it?

He and his troop moved to down the main hall and checked all the rooms for any sign of the Super Mutants, but they were nowhere to be found. "Looks like they thought wrong," said a knight, "I don't see any-"

He was cut off by the sound of a blunt object knocking him to the ground, which killed him on impact. They killer was non other that a really angry Super Mutant who was wielding a sledgehammer, he was then joined by two Super Mutant Masters, a group of mutant who were stronger and more powerful that Brutes. They charged at the rest of the team who was too busy blasting away to realize that they had no hope of surviving a head on collision with a Super Mutant, but luckily they managed to duck out of the way and ran for the door. Cyprus ran as well, but he was firing at them at the same time in the hopes of killing at least the Master.

As they made it for the door, Adrian managed to toss his only grenade at them. When it blew, it didn't kill any of the Mutants, but it gave them enough time to escape, and Cyprus enough time to blast at the only regular Super Mutant, killing it. The rest kept firing at the other Masters, who were returning the favor with more powerful versions of the miniguns that the Brotherhood had.

_________________
"Only $199,999!

KimRae rolled out of the car, close the curb and caught the flick of a tail in her peripheral vision. She tensed. Trying not to move much and to blend in with the shadow cast by the rusted out hull, KimRae widened her eyes in an attempt to judge the size of this killer. When she couldn’t make out its head above the car’s door, she realized it just might be a young Deathclaw. Her gut clenched. Where there was one young, there would be more and worse, the huge blue Mother. KimRae’s hand clenched over her knife but knew that even if she managed to wound the creature, her life would be forfeit. She was not clever or fast enough to out run an enraged Mother Deathclaw.

The cacophony of the lasers and tumult from the other street was stirring up the flotsam of humanity. The creature made mewling noises that reminded KimRae of a frightened toddler calling for its mom. When a man with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders raced by treading on its tail, the young killer shrieked with terror, swiping at him and snagging the blanket from his grasp. The vagrant did some screaming with terror himself as he fled on down the street.

Using that moment of distraction, KimRae scooted along the ground to the other side of the vehicle where two men, the men she had observed, stood, guns poised. Caught amidst whirling emotions, KimRae looked up at the men from her vulnerable prone position. Not knowing what else to do, she put her fingers to her lips in a shhhh motion and nodded toward the beast

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http://youtu.be/89Zrto8bq7k