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PostSubject: Kroft Robertson   Wastelands - Page 3 EmptyThu Feb 03, 2011 4:37 am

"Well, I guess he was hungry!" Kroft said, looking at nino, then turning his attention to the "spinning freak" and said "So, I still don't know your name, mind telling me?" while grabbing some fruit loops, opening it then eating it.
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PostSubject: Damien   Wastelands - Page 3 EmptyThu Feb 03, 2011 2:54 pm

Damien scanned his memory, trying to think of the last thing someone referred to him by, aside from The Spinning Freak... "Damien..." he responded to the spiked one, "And you are? I never really got your name, been referring to you as 'the spiked one' in my mind for the last little while..."
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PostSubject: Kroft Robertson   Wastelands - Page 3 EmptyThu Feb 03, 2011 8:50 pm

"Well, they call me Kroft, but you can call me Kroft" said Kroft, trying to be a smartass to the newly found people, maybe to the hope that it would strengthin the friendship which had just started.
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PostSubject: Damien   Wastelands - Page 3 EmptyFri Feb 04, 2011 7:13 am

Damien laughed a bit, before coughing once or twice. "It's....been a while since I laughed..." he muttered. Feeling like he shouldn't completely devour Kroft's fish supply, he left the food be, and returned to the group.

He examined his current clothing, knowing they were little more than rags. He sighed, "You got any sort of black summer clothing?" he asked, "You kinda found me in my pee-jays..."
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PostSubject: Kroft Robertson   Wastelands - Page 3 EmptySat Feb 05, 2011 11:24 am

"Well, I have some random clothes upstairs, dunno about black summer, but random clothes are definite fact" said Kroft, pointing to the stairs.
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PostSubject: Kroft Robertson   Wastelands - Page 3 EmptySun Feb 06, 2011 5:54 am

"Would you hurry up Damien? I want to go and explore, haven't had so many people in one outpost of a house before, gotta get some more food, is anyone interested in going with me?" said Kroft, looking for someone to put their hand up or say something...
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PostSubject: Damien   Wastelands - Page 3 EmptySun Feb 06, 2011 10:32 am

Damien shrugged, "You seem to have a fair amount of food here, but believe me when I say you don't want to stay in one place for too long..." he replied. "I've seen too many homes brutally raided, their owners falling from wave after wave of raiders, until they are nothing but a corpse..." he began walking up the stairs to find the clothes aforementioned.

I can't stay in this place...
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PostSubject: Kroft Robertson   Wastelands - Page 3 EmptySun Feb 06, 2011 10:50 am

"That's why I trapped up the place, don't go anywhere when I'm not here, or you might die" Kroft said, turned his head to a light switch, took a breath in, and said "this here switch is the only thing stopping the traps from killing you right now, be thankful that it's in the off position".
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PostSubject: Damien   Wastelands - Page 3 EmptySun Feb 06, 2011 10:57 am

Damien looked back down, "Who said they'd come in here? There's a little invention out there called a rocket launcher, and I don't think this little home of yours could withstand many shots from that weapon...no house, no traps. Therefore, more stuff to pick from the rubble..."
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PostSubject: Kroft Robertson   Wastelands - Page 3 EmptyTue Feb 08, 2011 4:20 am

"Well, it's good to have a stockpile of food and medical supplies, but I'm kinda running outta the medical supplies, need to go look for some soon..." said Kroft, looking at the near empty medical crate in the far corner with a red plus sign painted on it.
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PostSubject: Fisk    Wastelands - Page 3 EmptySat Feb 12, 2011 9:19 pm

"Still doesn't make a difference if we get blown to bits.", Fisk said as he got to his feet. "We should get out of here and stay on the move so the raiders can't box us in it's stuff like that that made me flee to the sewer and that circus of hell." Fisk said as he recalled the horrible circus
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PostSubject: Damien   Wastelands - Page 3 EmptySat Feb 12, 2011 9:33 pm

Damien shot a look at Fisk, "You think you had it rough? My family was vaporised, I have a protrusion connected to my spine, my eyes painfully mutated, and I was sent to that fucking dark carnival to perform with as much ability as possible. You? All you had to do was work with snakes, or swallow a sword, whatever the asshole had you do. Do you know what it's like to watch your family be incinerated before they could even scream?!" Damien yelled angrily.

Catching his breath, he collected himself. "Sorry...bad memories...nothing against you, Fisk..."
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PostSubject: Kroft Robertson   Wastelands - Page 3 EmptySun Feb 13, 2011 9:12 am

Kroft looked at Damien and said "let me guess, the carnival asshole killed your family, well if so, he's dead now, if not, didn't it feel good to help those people outta the circus from hell?". Kroft then turned to fisk "and you, I still have no idea who the fuck you are! so tell me your name, or get outta my compound".
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PostSubject: Fisk   Wastelands - Page 3 EmptySun Feb 13, 2011 6:29 pm

"Sorry i'm Fisk",Fisk replied quickly wanting to get a move on before any raiders showed up. " And by the way it's alot worse to see your family tortured by a serial killer.
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PostSubject: Kroft Robertson   Wastelands - Page 3 EmptyFri Feb 18, 2011 6:43 am

"Don't be an ass Fisk, I can see that Damien went through the death of his family, so yeah, don't be an ass" said Kroft, looking at Fisk with a dirty look, a look like "what the fuck do you think your doing?". Kroft then diverted his attention to the outside and said "Sooo, who want's to go raiding? I know I do!".
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PostSubject: Damien   Wastelands - Page 3 EmptyTue Feb 22, 2011 6:44 pm

Damien checked the state of his 'clothing', and shrugged. "I suppose I am in need of some decent clothing...is there a sports store anywhere near here?" he asked.
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PostSubject: Kroft Robertson   Wastelands - Page 3 EmptySat Feb 26, 2011 4:04 am

"I believe there should be one not too far from here, maybe in the central down town area" said Kroft, starting to move towards the door, and then saying "well, you coming or what?".

(short post is SHORT)
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PostSubject: Damien   Wastelands - Page 3 EmptySat Feb 26, 2011 10:48 am

Damien grabbed his glock 40, cocked it back, and replied "Right behind you." He wished he had a knife, or at least a goddamned pocket on these rags...
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PostSubject: Kroft Robertson   Wastelands - Page 3 EmptyTue Mar 01, 2011 7:12 pm

Kroft nodded and started to walk towards the door. Kroft opened the door and headed out with Damien to look for supplies. Kroft knew that there would be trouble soon, just never thought that it would be anytime in the near future...
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PostSubject: Kroft Robertson   Wastelands - Page 3 EmptySun May 08, 2011 10:13 am

"Where the fuck did you go?" said Kroft, looking for Damien. Kroft decided he went ahead and ran out the door, and of course he was right about the trouble being very soon, for there was a group of raiders near by, on patrol. Kroft counted eight of them, and thought "shit, and I was hoping that today would be easy...". Kroft was tired of not fighting, but knew that if he ran right at them, he would be dead before you could say "avoid dying", so he hid in a trashed car, and developed a plan. Kroft knew that there would be a very good chance he would die with this plan, but if it worked out, it would have quite a reward. Kroft was preparing to attack, when the raider's turned around and waved for someone to follow them, or at least hurry up. They were signalling for a super mutant! But this super mutant was different, he was purple-blue-ish. Kroft knew at that moment what type of super mutant it was. It was a super mutant elite, one of the most deadly type's of super mutant.

Kroft thought the odd's of him surviving were slim, to none, but he didn't care. He was distracted by the thing the elite mutant was carrying. He could barely make out what it was, but then he realised what it was. The super mutant elite was carrying a M-134! (minigun) The gun looked like it was in bad condition, but was still salvageable for parts. Kroft remapped his plan and decided to attack from behind the group of enemies. he waited for the group to pass his hiding place, and Kroft took out his Mp5 to attack them.

Kroft saw an opening to attack them easily, but with once again, great risk. Kroft jumped out of the wrecked car in which he was hiding in, and went behind a makeshift barricade on the streets, and a intact car door! what luck Kroft had today. Kroft picked up the car door, and used it like a riot shield. he then charged out of the makeshift barricade, holding the "shield" in front of him. Kroft yelled "Imma kill you all!!" and took the Mp5 in his hand, and started shooting like a madman, but for some reason, with perfect aim, taking out five of the raiders! three raiders remained, but one was injured, badly. Kroft thought that this was easy, that is until the super mutant started to draw fire on Kroft. Kroft thought he was done for, but then he raised his shield, and it was holding! Kroft has a few precious seconds to see if he could use anything to his advantage. Kroft then remembered his mutation! Kroft took a big spike from his arm, and hurled it at the mutant while he was reloading. it hit the gun out of the mutant's arm! Kroft then went into a bloodlust trance, tearing through two of the raiders with his bare hands and his mutation. Kroft then stomped on the injured raider, crushing his head, grey and white matter all over his boot. Kroft then ran up to the mutant, now disarmed, and broke off a spike about the size of a dagger, and forced it into the mutants head. the group now dead, Kroft sat in the middle of the street, laughing at the dead bodies.

Kroft noticed a pain in his right arm after his adrenaline in him stopped. The pain came from a bullet wound! a pretty deep one too. but Kroft saw it was a through and through, and sighed a sigh of relief. Kroft raided the bodies, taking their bullets, medical items, the elite's M134, and a shopping cart to carry the bodies in. Kroft headed back to the convenience store and unloaded everything in his room. well, everything except the bodies, because he was planning to feed them to the dog's he had in the back of his store. Kroft started to chop and cook the raider bodies, and when he was done, he put the meat in the back for his dogs. the bones on the other hand, were thrown away, all but the elite's skull. Kroft mounted that on his makeshift mantle.
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PostSubject: Kroft Robertson   Wastelands - Page 3 EmptySun May 29, 2011 8:54 am

Kroft was proud of his victory, gazing at the skull of his makeshift mantle, looking at it with great concentration, until he noticed something on the back of the skull! Kroft went forward and took the skull off of the mantle, and examined it. The skull had writing of some sort on it, although he never paid attention to reading things, he still knew how to, so he read the writing out loud. "God is in the other side of town?" Kroft said, lowering the skull from his view, still thinking on why there was writing on the skull of an elite...
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PostSubject: Damien   Wastelands - Page 3 EmptySat Jun 11, 2011 8:31 pm

Damien was about to follow Kroft, his weapon at the ready, but before he could take a step, something came to mind. He remembered a certain museum hall designed to showcase the medieval ages not far from here. He didn't want to trouble Kroft or Fisk with his little escapade, so he merely speed-vaulted through an opening in a windowsill.

He began his 'light jog' which was really to most more of a sprint, to the place he kept in his thoughts. From what he remembered, the place was all about medieval combat, not literature or anything boring like that. The place had plenty of European weapons on display, with explanations of what they were used for, if his memory served him.

He finally arrived, happy to have not been shot at as of yet. And began to walk up the steps of the museum. He looked up, "Weapons of the ages" he mouthed, repeating the title of the museum as he stepped up to the door. He pulled on the bar of the door, finding it locked of course. He pulled out his glock, fired off a shot into the glass, then kicks through the shattered parts of the glass, getting a few cuts along the way. He found the whole place quite dark, save for some light from the skylight. "Great," Damien muttered to himself, "Power's out..." His eyes adjusted to the low-light very quickly, happy that he was a mutant for once. He investigated the map in the lobby, examining the layout of the building. He smiled, "Melee weapon section," he muttered, "right next to the armor section..."

He started to walk through the empty halls, finding a good many of the display weapons taken. He did find, however, that the armor section was locked off with some heavy doors, and locked with a chain. He frowned, wondering how to get through to the melee section, seeing how he had to step through the armor section to get to the melee weapons. He looked around, and found a small opening to ventilate the room ahead, near the roof. He laughed, "Small enough for an anorexic traceur," he spoke to himself. He turned around and ran up the wall, jumping off it, only to turn around to grip a hanging bar, and finally to throw himself through the small hole in the wall, grazing his tail on the lower part of the opening.

He landed on his back, though, winding him. Getting back up after a minute or two of getting his breath back, he started walking yet again through the room. This room was completely dark, however. He couldn't tell at first, but then he noticed his nightvision change slightly, guessing the lighting is essentially null. He shrugged, "At least I'll be harder to spot now..."

He looked from side-to-side, looking at the various suits of armor, actually happy to see that this section was relatively untouched, giving him high hopes for the melee section. He looked up, seeing the next section title above in medieval letters.

He was thinking about how much the sewer circus had ruined him as a person. Long before that, he had a slightly optimistic on the apocalypse. Afterwords, however, he felt a lot more pessimistic than he wanted to be. He pushed those thoughts aside, looking through the medieval weapons before him. He started listing them off mentally, "Broadsword...Stiletto...Throwing axes...Tanto...Rondel...Falchion...Spatha... ugh...wait...Swordbreaker?"

He used his nightvision to help him read the text of the display case, holding two of the pristine-condition knives within. He read the text aloud to himself, "Used as a parrying dagger, these knives were meant to keep the enemy's weapon at bay, move it away, and even trap it within the prongs near the holster. This left an opening for the user, and came in quite handy during a melee fight. The term 'Swordbreaker' is a bit of a lie, as it was more of a legend if the knife could indeed 'break a sword'. It could, however, cause an incredible amount of difficulty to fall upon the duelist's opponent, who had to find a way to deal with this weapon." He shrugged, and shot through the glass with his glock. Breaking more of the glass with his hands, now cut up by the act, he reached in, and grabbed both knives and sheathes, strapping them to his pant thighs. He heard an explosion in the next wing, and took cover behind the display case. "Goddamn it...why didn't I get Kroft to join me? I don't even have a spare clip for my gun..." he muttered.
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PostSubject: Damien   Wastelands - Page 3 EmptySat Jun 11, 2011 9:47 pm

Damien continued to listen to the new noises of the once quiet museum. He kept his breath intake low, trying to keep as quiet as possible, relying more on his hearing than sight, not wanting to peek his head out. He heard a lot of men talking, judging from the sound of it they were probably back in the armor section.

"....sure he went in here?" Damien heard someone say.

"Sure of it, sir," another voice spoke up, "I'd recognize his tail any day." Damien was certain whoever that was, was talking about him.

"So, that simpleton thinks he can steal the weapons of his ancestors? Hah, perhaps I should challenge him, see if he is little more than a lowly rogue," the first voice continued. "Find him! Bring him to me! Take any modern weapons from him, I don't want him cheating!"

Damien heard this, and slowly put his pistol down on the floor, trying not to make a sound. He saw a few flashlight beams around the room, and tried not to stay caught in them. He moved from case to case, avoiding the guards, until he felt the heat of a flashlight beam upon him, and he stopped in his tracks. "There he is!" the man yelled, and Damien figured he shouldn't try to piss them off if their orders were to capture him. He stood upright, and held his arms up in surrender, his eyes becoming slits again in the flashlight's glow. The man grinned, "Good to see you giving up so easily."

Damien shrugged, "I'm a good listener," he replied.

The man stepped out of the way for the one who spoke earlier. This man definitely commanded respect, dressed up in a very royal get-up, looking like more of a noble than a wastelander. The man nodded towards Damien, "Greetings, mutant. I am Roland Johnson, son of Richter Johnson." Roland held his hand out, not in greeting, but as if expecting a ring kiss from Damien.

Damien assumed a standard stance, his hands not far from his new knives. "I am Damien, son of...Kerry. I'd like to say it's pleasant to meet you...I'd like to," he retorted.

Roland returned his arm to it's place at his side, "You would do well to learn respect in these wastes, young one. You are less likely to die that way."

Damien shrugged, "Or, perhaps you should put less trust in people. For many of them have succumb to the vices of this apocalyptic setting."

Roland grinned, "You and I are a lot alike, Damien. Perhaps in another life we could have been allies." His face suddenly turned to a more stern look, "But judging from your lack of respect, and inability to read the social cues of a nobleman," he drew a rapier from his side, "I'm afraid you must perish on this day."

Damien looked around him, seeing the 7 or so armed guards ensuring he did not attempt running away. Damien raised his arms in question, "What? Is this an execution, or a duel?"

Roland grinned again, "A duel, you ask? Very well," Roland motioned for his men to move away a bit, "If it is a duel you desire, the it is a duel you shall have! Arnold, take his modern weapons away!" An armed guard approached Damien, and began padding him down for weapons. While he did this, several guards placed their flashlights, glowsticks, and even lanterns in various locations to make it easier on Roland.

The guard soon finished his task, "He has but two weapons, sir. A pair of knives, sir. No guns or other weapons."

Roland grinned, "Good, then let's begin." Roland put an arm behind his back, and held his rapier in front of him, apparently his combat stance. "You may take the first shot, you common rogue."

Damien did not draw his knives yet, instead trying to figure out Roland's plan. He then thought for a moment, then backed up a bit. "Roland, if you are such an honorable man, I require a promise from you in this fight."

Roland rolled his eyes, "Oh, now the rogue demands respect. Very well, what conditions do you have for this bout?"

Damien looked to the guards, "There will be no interventions to this fight, it will be merely one-on-one. Now, victory conditions are in order I suppose."

"Of course..." Roland sighed.

"If you win, you may desecrate my corpse and do whatever you wish."

"Naturally."

"If I win, your goons will let me out of here alive. Otherwise there is little point in fighting you in my eyes."

"Of course."

"Finally, it will be a duel to the death. No death holds, no 'blades to the neck', the opponent must be dead."

"A gutsy move. Not one I'd expect of a rogue, let alone a mutant. Now, is that all?"

Damien nods, his right hand on the hilt of his right-thigh blade. "Yes, let it begin."

Roland resumed his position, once more awaiting Damien's strike. "Your move," Roland sneered.

Damien did not strike yet again, "Only the pawns move first, blue blood."

Roland scoffed, "This is a battle of blades, you simpleton, not a battle of wits."

Damien smiled, "Goes without saying. Hey Roland, where's the misses?"

"How dare you?"

"Well, I assumed that with a rank such as yours, Roland, that women would be all over you. It's perfectly understandable for a rogue such as myself to be alone, but a nobleman such as yourself? Well, being without one is just damn insulting."

This set Roland right off, as the nobleman lunged with his rapier. With blinding speed, Damien stepped to the side of the blade, and drew his own. Before Roland could strike again, Damien caught the blade with his Swordbreaker. Damien saw the look of confusion on Roland's face, and chose to take advantage of the momentary confusion. He slid his knife down the blade towards the hilt, and just before Roland could use his spare hand to punch the mutant, Damien drew his other blade, sinking it into the man's gut. Damien sneered, "A bit anti-climatic, in my opinion. But you were ill-prepared to deal with me."

Roland coughed up a bit of blood, "I expected as much. I suppose you are just going to torment me now, until I die a slow death?"

Damien shook his head, "You don't deserve such a death. As much as I want you to walk away from here in one piece, I have to stick to the agreement of the fight."

Roland sighed, "So this is it then?"

Damien nodded, "Yes. I'm sorry."

Roland was only able to say, "Don't be" before Damien had sunk his off-hand knife into the man's skull. He unlatched the rapier from his knife, and returned both knives to their sheathes. He closed the man's eyes, muttering "Rest in peace."

He stood up, looking at the armed guards, and stood there with his arms out to his sides. "Well? Are you going to stoop so low as to shoot me, despite the agreement?"

The armed guards did aim at him, but then lowered them after a moment. They then stepped away from the doorway, allowing Damien to leave. Damien nodded his thanks, then tried to walk past, until the last guard stopped him for a moment. "We will not shoot you right now, but we will give you a thirty second head start to try and get away from here. Good luck."

Damien nodded, and bolted it out the window, rolling after the impact from the two storey drop. He started to run from the building, making his way back to the hideout.

* * *

Damien finally made it to the hideout, thankful that he wasn't being chased. He did, however, hear dogs in the distance, from the same direction he came from. He sighed, collecting himself in the building. He held his head in his hands for a moment, "Ugh...I think I need a break..." he muttered to himself.

(TOWER OF TEXT INCINERATES! Hah, one-upped you. Anyhow, now that I'm done writing why Damien was busy, your turn.)
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PostSubject: Kroft Robertson   Wastelands - Page 3 EmptyThu Aug 18, 2011 5:39 pm

"About goddamn time you got here, I was just about to leave to the inner city to find some wares, although since your here now, like my trophy?" said Kroft, pointing tewards his newly cleaned mutant head, on his "trophy stand", and then asked, "so what have you been upto, and what in the seven circles of hell are those dogs upto with all their yapping and such?". Kroft walked upto Damien and asked "do you have anything to do with this?", looking very seriously at Damien.
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PostSubject: Damien   Wastelands - Page 3 EmptyWed Aug 31, 2011 11:55 am

Damien stared for but a moment at the trophy, before shaking his head in disgust. "I'd rather not have something like that hanging around, personally. As for those dogs..." Damien sighed, "I may or may not have royally pissed off *ahem* royalty," Damien raised his hands and made air quotes with them. "So...yeah, chances are his lackeys sent out dogs after me, not like my scent is hard to follow."

Damien stood up again, his legs still fatigued from the run back, but he knew he would have to do something about this. "Our two options are this: run, or try and fight them back. And I'm honestly not sure how many of those there are. It could be but two, or it could be a whole regiment. Your choice there Kroft," Damien stared intently at the spiked one.
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