The Apocolypse Theory

[Dysanii]

OOC: It's considered role play etiquette not to role play what happens to another players characters, but I can let it slide this time. :]

"Arh!"

"Jones? Jesus, I think he's dead!"

"Shut up, Curtis! I'm checking him out. Law Givers! Give me some support!" The Law Givers, using their helmets sensory systems to 'see' through the thick smoke, formed a rough circle around their fallen comrade while LGS-Johnson gave him a tactical casualty analysis.

"Serge, I'm hurt!" Jones groaned through his teeth. Johnson carefully examined the fallen Law Giver's body until he stumbled upon the shoulder plate of Jones's left arm. He shouted over the random fire of the Deathhawks and mutants,

"Your shoulder plate is fucked. It took the brunt of a direct hit. It looks like your arm is broken." He pointed at Mirendez, spread his fingers several times and placed his palm on Jones's chest. Mirendez nodded and helped up a stunned Jones, half-supporting him on her shoulder as the team once again set off for the evac point, under cover of the smoke and confusion. 

[Bara]

OOC: Thanks, i didnt know

The Deathhawks, still moving up and still firing at the Law Givers, saw the Law Givers helo fly off to somewhere unknown. While the Law Givers were flying away, The Deathhawks still had to deal with the Mutants that where moving towards them faster and faster.

"Jesus Christ"

"What?"

"We had to deal with Law Givers, Now this"

"Could be worse"

"Guess your right, we could be the mutants"

After the fighting died down, most of the mutants were dead, or ran off. The Deathawks gave the two brothers some things, like fuel, and the Deathhawks went back to Nuo Droghenda, to see if they could find something that they could use

[Khem]

many more of the infected began coming out of the woodwork, there were thousands of them they began throwing molotov cocktails and thowing some rather deadly frisbees. unless they thought of something quick they were all screwed...

[The Empire]

OOC: Just as a hint Barak, try to cover less time with each post, especially in a fighting situation each post should at most cover a few seconds, maybe half a minute before allowing for a new poster. It makes god-modding a lot easier to avoid and doesn't limit other peoples actions like most of your posts until now has. (which often leads to people ignoring what one have written since it's sort of taking over their characters by assuming they do nothing in the meantime.)

As Carl noticed the ghouls coming out of the ruins behind them, he heard a loud bang from Charlie's light .50. The high-explosive incendiary round took the head off of a ghoul that was about to stab a Deathhawk with some crude but nasty-looking blade before the tumbling round exploded by the chest of another, ripping it's rib-cage wide open a split second later.

"LIL'BRO! STAY THERE! I'M COMING!"

Running as fast as he could while spraying the ghouls with his MG one handed from the hip and using his free power assisted fist to punch ghouls that got too close for comfort, Carl headed back towards the tower and the brothers' buggy.

Charlie realized his mistake as soon as he saw the spent .50 cal case whirl down towards the tower's base and the eyes of a dozen ghouls started searching for the origins of the sound. The casing hit the ground with a bright 'pling' and the closest ghoul noticed it's bounce as the brass glinted in the sun, raising a withered but unnaturally strong arm to point at him he pulled his FN P90 and shot it in in the face before ducking away from the edge, SMG in one hand, .50 cal rifle in the other. When his back rested against the cold lime stone wall, he waited aiming his weapon at the hatch.

[Bara]

OOC: Ah... thanks

[Allama]

Far off in the Jabberwocky Plain, a band of traders moved along their usual route to New Zion.  This trip had been particularly profitable for them; they'd found an untapped storage tank beneath an ancient-looking gas station.  It must have been closed up long before the disaster, or the then-owners of the place would never have bothered with boarding up the windows and taking all the products off the shelves inside.  Guess the gas in the tank wasn't worth enough to siphon out back then... only to our luck, that is.

This thought came from a tall, lanky man in a ratty brown coat as he drove the tiny caravan's Jeep.  Behind it was hitched the wagon in which some of their less precious cargo was hauled; the stuff people were less likely to kill for in these desperate times.  The valuables were stowed away in the Jeep and their other vehicle, a rusty pick-up truck, hidden about among their personal belongings, few though they were, and in compartments they'd constructed in the wheel wells, engine, and undercarriage.  These were the items they would bring out in secret before they approached a settlement, to sell or trade for a good yield.

The gas, of course, they weren't stupid enough to sell.  They'd be killed within an hour of showing up on the streets with that shit, though the wretched bastards that caught up to them might keep one alive long enough to torture the location of their stash out of them.  No, they'd not be selling gasoline anywhere.  Let them think they'd bought it fair and square with their earnings; they made enough for that to be feasible, albeit barely.

Charlotte, or "Lotta" as they called her, peeked out of the makeshift tent stretched over the lumber bars in the bed of the truck.  "Oi, Fetch!  How long?"

The lanky man called back to her, "An hour, mebbe two.  Hold on to your hat 'til then, harridan."

[Dysanii]

The Law Givers slowly filed out of the helicopter, and made their way single file through a narrow door at the far side of the pad. Once inside, they waited patiently as each of them was scanned for infection by a capsule shaped machine. "Your team are clean, Johnson," said a man dressed in a deep blue tunic through the glass, "Make your way to the Lieutenant. He is expecting you in the changing room." LGS-Johnson shook his head and walked down the corridor, with the team following, their boots making a scrathing noises as they connected with the grilled floor. Several minutes later after much bending and turning down the endless corridors, the team shuffled into the changing room where a tall, dark haired man stood waiting for them.

"Where the fuck have you been, Johnson?" the dark haired man took several steps forward.

"Patrolling Nuo Droghenda as ordered, Lieutenant Sanders, sir." replied the tired Sergeant.

"I heard you stirred shit down there. You were supposed to be scouting the area, not starting firefights with the infected and wanderers!" he motioned to Jones's damaged shoulder plate and other marks on the teams body armour. "You do what you're told, to the letter, or so help me God I'll bust you down to private. You get me Johnson?"

"Yes...sir." grumbled the Sergeant. Sanders moved back and lit a cigarette. He motioned to the gathered Law Givers.

"Get your team ready, Sergeant. You have patrol duty in the settlement." He glared at the assembled troops before walking out in a haze of smoke.

"Serge, are you going to stand for-arh!" Curtis was cut short by a sharp jab from Mirendez. Johnson sighed, the vox in his helmet broadcasting it as static.

"Jones, get to medical. We'll have to make do without you. The rest of you, get to the showers and replace any damaged armour. I want us ready in 15." The assembled Law Givers looked at each other. "Well, move your asses!" ordered Johnson. Slowly they filed out of the changing room, leaving a weary Johnson sitting on a bench to catch some much needed shut eye.

15 minutes later and the team were leaving the government compound in an armoured APC transport, to patrol the mean streets of the hellish New Zion.

[Bara]

The Deathahwks finally got to The old city a few hours after the fight. During the way, they fought more mutants and they ran into other bands. While they were in Nuo Droghenda, they found mainly old things that wouldnt work, such as a old car and a few weapons. Later, they went into the Subway station and, not knowing that the palce was crawiling with muntants, stepped inside and bagen lookng around.

"Hey Guys, i don't like this.."

"Shut up kyle, you have the good Armour on, all we have is some flak vests."

"Really Kyle, dont be such a baby"

 

[Allama]

They stopped the caravan a mile outside of the settlement's sketchy-at-best borders to bring out the last of the hidden items they wanted to get a deal for.  They'd display them as best they could without leaving them vulnerable to thieves once they got set up in town.  Johnny, a tall, broad-shouldered man of indeterminate ethnic origin, hopped down out of the Jeep to walk alongside.  He usually ran ground protection.

Fetch leaned out of the driver window and instructed his fellows.  "No bullshit this time, and no stunts.  Ya'll know what happened to Juan's band last month, so I'm sure I don't need to refresh your mem'ries as to why."

They remembered, all right.  No one needed to be reminded of the way the corpses had stunk up the place when they fished them out of the midden.  If the Law Givers wanted to inspect your goods, you let them and no fuss about it.  Causing a ruckus in the street was the last thing you'd ever want to do... literally.

Having left anything they didn't want to sell (or to have seen) in a rock cluster a couple miles back, they weren't terribly worried.  This was a low-risk run.  Nothing the Law Givers could take exception to and all of them carried their weapons under their coats.  They'd made sure no one was around to see the drop-off and were well-versed at concealment; it was all that kept them alive.


OOC: Dysanii, if that doesn't properly reflect your concept of the Law Givers just ask me to change it and I'll happily do so.

[Dysanii]

OOC: No, that's perfect!

IC:

The APC within which Law Giver team 19 were in was parked on a mound on the 'city' outskirts. From this point they could see several miles out into the Jabberwocky plain. LG-Smith was sat on top of the APC hatch when he spotted the caravan of vehicles. He moved and hit the hatch with his fist, prompting LGS-Johnson to pop his out out. "Serge, we got movement. About a mile out." Smith motioned to the stationary caravan and people milling about it.

"Lets move up and...inspect them," Johnson said. "I could do with smacking around some wanderers." He dipped his head back into the APC to face Mirendez and Curtis. "And make sure your stun batons are ready...if these traders are anything like the last, we need to be careful. They're tricky....and difficult...and packing some heat." Smith jumped down into the vehicle, closing the hatch behind him. As the APC roared forward towards the traders, LG-Curtis spoke into a comm that broadcast his message over the sirens, "In accordance with rogue government law, we are carrying out an inspection of your vehicles. Do not resist. Do not move. Do not get in your vehicles. Thank you for your cooperation."

[Allama]

They all froze where they were, except for Lotta.  She slowly climbed out of the back of the truck into the open with her hands held far from her sides so they would see she wasn't reaching for anything.  Those bastards would probably say I was hiding in wait to ambush them and use the excuse to beat on us again.  Yeah, I'm sure pregnant women are petrifying stealthy.

The others held themselves much the same way, though Johnny's face was a mite less calm than the others.  He looked like he was suppressing some serious anger, the muscle twitching in his jaw betraying his emotions.  After all their weeks of hard work, they were afraid to lose anything.

Fetch glanced over at Greg, sitting in the driver's seat of the truck opposite him.  Both knew they'd brought nothing along the Law Givers could take any kind of offense to, but it was always chilling to be stopped like this.  They had every right in the world to sell their wares to those as needed 'em, but these "inspections" happened just about every time anyway.

[Bara]

The Deathawks manged to find a few things in the old Subway, mainly some old Gas and a few Old World weapons.

"Well guys, i guess we found a good haul, a few SMG's and 2 shotguns."

"And some gas"

"Yeah.."

The Deathhawks walked out, and began walking around, trying to find some more stuff.

"What the 'ell is that?!"

"Oh my god, its a Airport"

"Airport?"

"Old World thing, lets go into it!"

The Deathhawks began walking into the Airport, and then into the Tarmac, Finding a truck that still worked.

"Well, we got a car, lets get out of here."

"Got it"

The Deathhawks drove out of the City, and began looking for other groups. They pulled out a map, and they plotted a course for a small Base they had about 100 aways from New Zion.

[The Empire]

Somehow, Carl and Charlie managed to get back to eachother and fight their way to their buggy. For once, the damned thing actually started on the first attempt and they drove out of ghoultown, that's what they would call it from now on anyway.

"Things look pretty bad bro."

"Yeah, Charlie, I know, wer'e down to half a tank of gas."

"Not just that, we only have two proper .50 cal's left, we need to get hold of some powder, some fresh percussion caps and someone that can cast .50 cal bullets... and jackets too. Also, we are down to ten clips for the P90 and you only have 200 rounds left for the MG. Thank our lucky star for the idea to make case catchers for our automatics."

"Yeah, without you making those, we wouldn't even have cases to reload. There should be someon that could help us in New Zion, I have heard it's a big town, and that there's a big old store there that used to sell all sorts of stuff before the fall."

"For once, big bro, that soesn't sound like a half-bad idea."

Leaving a long, dense dust trail behind them, the brothers speed off towards New Zion, Charlie driving and Carl manning the pintle mounted MG just in case of raiders or other low lifes of the wasteland turned up.

[Bara]

The Deathhawks were almost to there base when they saw a large Cloud of Dust heading towards New Zion.

"What is that?!"

"Raiders most likely, lets got ambush them"

The Deathhawks began setting up near where the truck was driving by and they were about to attack when the saw that those were the guys that helped them early. They waved them down, and when they stopped they began to talk

"Hey, i didnt think that we'd meet agian"

[The Empire]

Shouting over the roaring vehicles, Carl replied.
"Well, lucky for you we recognized some of your gear or we would have shot you up for raiders! We are heading for New Zion, need to get some more ammo and have heard they might have some!"