Three's A Crowd

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Three's A Crowd

Post by MojaveMaster on Sun Nov 01, 2015 4:10 pm

The earth slopes up and down in jagged reddish hills, the Mojave Desert soon falling way to a much mightier geological feature, the Grand Canyon. There are cactuses and dried up brush spotting the horizon, jagged cliffs and pools of a disgustingly green colored muck decorating the scenery just as well. On the other side of the Grand Canyon stood a mighty, growing empire, Ceasar's Legion which was more commonly referred to as simply the Legion. A tension buzzed across the whole Mojave Wasteland, loud as the wingbeats of a cazador and as bloody and violent as when one meets their fate at the end of a deathclaw. Legionnaires and New California Republic troops often skirmish along the Grand Canyon, each one seeking control of the powerful hydroelectric dam that resided within. The whole Wasteland was soon to spill red with fresh blood, radioactive waste and hotspots still claiming the lives of many, twisting their minds and bodies into sick mockeries of human beings. Not every insane person comes from the radiation, but rather the cruelty of the world they reside in. Raiders, cannibals, soldiers, robots, the wildlife; everything in the Mojave was gunning to kill the weak, even the bugs feasting on the flesh of the unlucky.

Sometimes though, someone shows a bit of guts, and gets up and says no more to the sinful way the world lives. Someone decides that enough was enough and wants to change it. The Wastelanders liked to call them heroes, but really they were just stupid. No one changed the wastes. War would be war, blood would be spilled and lives would be claimed all in the name of this and that. Only the foolish would dare to stop it, but only the brave would succeed. Perhaps for once, there would be a minor victory. Of course, everyone knows that you can't win the war, but you could win a battle.
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Re: Three's A Crowd

Post by Harley on Mon Nov 02, 2015 1:17 am

The noon-time sun was finally too much. Harley plopped down onto the ground with an exaggerated sigh- she had been walking all day, and she was not one for small physical activities, never mind tromping around all day in search of what? Somewhere hospitalitable? Somewhere with supplies? Not that she needed these. People, or free food. She could easily just steal stuff. And company? Who needed that? Hahahaha.... Who was she kidding? It was lonely as hell.
The Brit reminded herself she had no time for loneliness, as survival was a priority. And lets face it; in this sense, she had to be right. But in the situation of which she was sitting with sore leg muscles with nothing but a messenger bag for company as the apocalypse ravaged around her, things could at least get a little better.
Or worse, she thought as she saw the men. Nope, this was way worse. At first she suspected confused civilians- but they would have to have been very lost to have wandered all the way out to this hellhole. And when they were mere meters away she knew that yes, her situation could be allot better right now. She took a wary step back, although they easily cleared the gap. There was no time to be cocky when they had a clear intention- kill. Or steal, then kill. Or... Ugh, no. She was grateful she looked a little younger than she really was. Perhaps that would drive them to go easy.
She scowled as two approached her, the other's eyes on her bag. She kicked it back behind her, clearly pissing them off more. Shit. Shitshitshitshitshitshit.
Drawing her dagger from her pocket, and dropping the makeshift sheath she had thrown together, (by repeatedly stabbing a thin piece of wood) she watched them carefully. They seemed confident- four guys against a little girl? Pfft. Only one of them stepped forward with a, she had to admit ugly, sword. She was first to lunge forward, despite how stupid it was and that it was panic-driven, aiming to plunge it into his stomach while lurching her body to avoid the sword. OhshitpleasehitthisguyIdontwannadie.
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Re: Three's A Crowd

Post by MojaveMaster on Sat Nov 28, 2015 10:01 pm

[Rolled 4 - mild]

The raider that Harley slashed at easily parried her attack, but her follow-through movement was just enough to avoid getting struck by the nasty blade. He snarled, rabid, wild, jet rushing through his body to send his mind into a blur of colors and sensations, rushing faster than the wind. One of the raiders, garbed in the skull of a brahmin on his shoulder and a spiked breastplate, ran forward at the young girl flailing his machete with a wild scream. The other two pulled out small revolvers, only for the one high on jet to shout at them not to waste the bullets. Agreeing, they pulled out blades of their own and waited for the girl to try to make a run for it.
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Re: Three's A Crowd

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