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18+ Our Way Of Life

Discussion in 'Skyrim Roleplaying' started by Daryl Dixon, Mar 11, 2017.

  1. Daryl Dixon

    Daryl Dixon Well-Known Member

    Feb 23, 2013
    Likes Received:
    Our Way Of Life

    A cool breeze danced through Kingsport. The booming settlement had come so far since it's early days. Henry still remembered when there were just half dozen of them in the group. They lived off of what was scavenged the night before. They had to stand guard all day and night between just a few of them. They were constantly tired and borderline starving.

    So many died to get them this far. Those days were gone. He looked down at the harvest. They'd have bread again soon. Patricia was good at turning crops into meals. She makes Mutfruit muffins every now and then. He could hear little Emily running around with Quinn and Levi in the Kingsport Manor. They were playing Minutemen VS Raiders.

    He watched from the office window in the Manor as the lively town enjoyed luxuries he once only dreamed of, that people died for. It was bittersweet. With Mavis they even had sweets. Something they couldn't even fathom before her arrival. As he stepped outside onto the front porch he took a deep breath of fresh sea air. It was one of the best feelings in the world. Bryce Montarello, an operator out of The Steel Snakes approached the position.

    Henry was reluctant to trust him when he first joined the settlement, despite his skill. He came from a mercenary group that successfully phased out the gunner presence in the commonwealth. As far as he was concerned, people who can turn on the whim of someone's wealth were not valuable assets. Ghost, as his former callsign had called him, proved a valuable asset to the scav team. He constantly provided manpower the security patrols as well.

    Bryce spotted Henry on the porch and approached. "You just woke up mate?"

    "No. Have had a lot of paperwork to do. Keeping track and rotating these teams is a pain in the ass."

    "I bet." Bryce leaned back and pointed his rifle muzzle sky high. He had a very laid back and approachable demeanor that wasn't common among operators of his skill.

    "How did the scouting go?"

    "Had a few contacts. Almost lost Levi, physically lose him. All in all, it went by alright. Picked up a few fusion cores. Might be useful when we get Big Bess going."

    "If that ever happens."

    "Well, I've gotta go. Sakotic wanted me to report to him when I returned. Had a task for me."

    "You've never got idle hands, I'll give you that."

    Bryce nodded and walked off. Henry walked off toward the barracks which built in the cellar behind Kingsport Manor. It was mostly a boozer but had a few bunk beds as well. Most people stayed in their own accommodations, but those on duty for the day slept down here.

    He entered and everybody stood up as he descended the stairs. "Yep, okay, I know briefings suck."

    They all nodded agreeably. "V, you're with Jack for the next few days. When we rotate, you two rotate together. Bryce, you're with Levi. Courtenay and Piper, you're together." Henry continued on with the list until he was done. "The list is on the notice board if you forget what tasks you're on." After he was finished, he exited the cellar and continued to the marketplace they had going. A few shops were set up on the pier down by the water but some were still on the high ground behind the house. They had a large expanse of land to work with.

    Mavis' bakery was open. She had it constructed here and paid for it all herself. It was a nice two story shop and served as a bar and bakery. She brought in a fair few travelers as well, as well as had the caravans stay longer and spend more caps. He picked up a muffin, thanked her and moved on. Levi also got something from the shop, chatted with Mavis a little, then approached Henry as he ate. They leaned against the railing overlooking the ocean. "Here's that note," Levi said, as he slipped him an envelope. "I'll keep it safe."

    "Bryce still gives me dirty eyes whenever me and Elizabeth so much as hug."

    "He'll come around, don't worry."

    "It's fine, but we've been together for almost two years now. How much longer will it take?"

    "I don't know. How's she going anyway?"

    "Good, good. When her birthday comes around I want to take her out on the water. Nothing too far, just a little."

    "That sounds good pal. Bryce almost lost you?"

    "What? Oh, yeah. I fell through the floor. Nothing major."

    Henry laughed, "You would."

    Then the Kingsport alarm system rang. Sirens deafened the town. "fl*ff." Henry said. "Levi, find the kids and take them to the Manor!" Levi nodded and sprinted off to the manor. Henry bolted past the marketplace, passed the house and to the front gate. Canaan had already arrived as had Elizabeth. "It's him. It's Negan." She said.

    Henry looked to Canaan. "Henry. We've got everything in place. Guard posts are manned. Front gates' fortified, turrets hot and ready to fire at your word. Had a few of the men inspect the rest of our traps, the ones we could reach beforehand at any rate. Everything looks solid, armed and ready to go. Got the others in position, fire in their eyes, prepared for the worst. Come hell or high water, we've got this place as secured as she can get, Hen'. Nothing's getting through that gate alive unless we let it."

    "Good, good." He took a few deep breaths.

    "This isn't enough."


    "You can win this fight. But not the next. They will come back and they will steamroll over this place. They'll make you wish they had of killed you. Henry, please. They will come back, even larger than this. They'll come by coast and land and we will be slaves." Her voice quivered, tears rolled down her cheeks and her hands and legs began to shake. She was terrified.

    "So we should just sit and surrender? Might as well ask for the collars to put on ourselves. We'll be slaves just the same! I don't know if fear is keeping you from connecting the dots here, honey, but we have children here. Innocent people who are counting on us to keep those bastards out. And I sure as hell won't be rolling over and letting them have their way. Henry. It's enough. We can do this. Trust me." Canaan gave Henry a look, almost begging him to make the right call. "I've given you no reason not to."

    "No, you don't understand. If we don't fight them they'll raid us and leave. They'll extort us, but they won't kill us. I know this is hard for you guys to understand, I've seen first hand what he does to communities that fight and those that comply. This is the only way. If the Minutemen couldn't do it, neither can we."

    It was either fight back, win the battle today. Maybe tomorrow. But people will die. They always do. That army out there was coming in one way or another. He had to choose the method in which he and his people survived, whether they liked it or not. He would rather them alive and hating him than dead after having rallied by his side.

    "Canaan... She's right. What chance do we stand against an army of raiders when the Minutemen, who were better prepared than us, failed?"

    The sentry on the wall nervously turned to the fighting trio. "They're getting really close, do we fire?"



    "So we become some sort of supply stockpile? Allowing those fl*ffers to mosey on in and round up whatever they want, all based on your word? No. I don't think so. My wife and children are in there. I will not allow any of those demented mother fl*ffers near them. And every one of my men would tell you the same. Whether they toppled the Minutemen or not is irrelevant. We're not backing down. I've seen what they're capable of, and now that we have seen them in action, I know what to expect. We. Can. Do. This."

    Henry was torn. He wanted so badly to agree with Canaan. It was in his nature. But being the leader he had to make the decision that would keep his people alive, he couldn't bear the thought of losing more people. "It's not irrelevant. If you fight them, you're going to get your family killed. You're going to get your friends killed."

    It was uncharacteristic for Elizabeth to behave like this, she was petrified.

    "Elizabeth, stop. Canaan..." He didn't know how to say this. He knew their friendship would never be the same. "We will fight them, but not today. We can't. Elizabeth is right. They have torn a fl*ffing hole in the commonwealth. I can't risk any more of us getting killed. Emily, Quinn, Isaac. They'll get through today and that's what's important to me. We'll deal with tomorrow, tomorrow. If we can slowly build up our strength while they think we've given in we can hit them hard while they're stealing from us. Hell, we may even get the Overboss. If we kill Negan it won't be long before the other gangs are at each other's throats again, they'll get weak. I know this isn't going to sway you but I need you to trust me. I need you to see where I'm coming from. Fighting now, I know it only means death. I have to take the other way."

    Canaan let out a frustrated growl. "Do not speak my children's names. I will not allow you to use them to sway me into your twisted logic." He spat on the ground, looking to his men as they waited, needing to make a decision. They were too close now. He looked Henry dead in the face for a moment, then turned to the men. "Hold your fire. Let them approach, see if Hen spreading his cheeks will save our families instead of lead." Then back to Henry. "Anything happens to them and I will personally make sure you suffer worse than they did before I go."

    He stormed off with his rifle. "Hey!" Henry roared in anger. "You stay here. We'll face this together as we always have."

    "I stood with you when we were making this place safe for everyone. I will not stand with you while you tear it back down."

    He continued down the road, leaving Henry alone with Elizabeth by the gate. Elizabeth then too fled. If that's how you're going to be... He turned back to the gate and saw the large silhouette that approached the gate behind the reinforced wire fencing. A bat was used to clash against the gate. Thud, thud, thud. "Little pig, little pig. Let. Me. In!"
    • Winner Winner x 2
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    #1 Daryl Dixon, Mar 11, 2017
    Last edited: Mar 11, 2017
  2. Simus

    Simus An Excellent Site Member

    Jul 16, 2012
    Likes Received:
    The Drunken Deathclaw
    Kingsport Bar and Charity Bakery
    All profits go to Kingsport Lighthouse food supply
    All prices are suggestions based on labor, raw materials and transportation expenses. Payments as low as 1 cap will be accepted for all items. All goods produced by paid employees only

    Bakery hours: 9 am-9 pm
    Bar hours: 2 pm-2 am
    All bakery surplus available after 9 pm for no charge

    Nuka-Cola: c2
    Nuka-Cherry :c2
    Nuka-Cola Quantum: c3
    Nuka-Cola Quartz (Imported): c3
    Nuka-Cola Victory (Imported): c3
    Nuka-Cola Clear (Imported): c3
    Nuka-Cola Black (While supplies last): c4

    Cold, fizzy and free of rads. Bottled fresh at a repurposed beer brewery outside Boston. Kids under 10 drink free! (Nuka-Cola and Nuka-Cherry only).

    81 coffee: c5

    Freshly brewed black coffee made from special coffee beans developed in Vault 81 and grown at our special farm in Nordhagen Beach. Cream, milk and sugar available upon request.

    Black tea: c5

    A pre-war favorite right out of Boston's history and into your mouth! The leaves are grown and cultivated by the robots of Greygarden and under the personal attention of its own Supervisor White. Milk and sugar available upon request.

    Milk: c5

    Low-fat, nutritious brahmin milk taken from our animals all over the Commonwealth. A great way to keep yourself healthy and strong! Served warm or cold. Suggested beverage for all children 12 and under.


    Funnel Cake: c5

    Warm, doughy and covered in powdered sugar. A pre-war favorite originally found in the ruins of Nuka-World and now made all over the Commonwealth. Overboss Negan's personal favorite! (Establishment does not support or endorse Overboss Negan or any raider group including but not limited to The Saviors, Pack, Desciples or Operators.)

    Sweet rolls: c4

    Originally found in Vault 101 all the way in the Capital Wasteland, this little morsel was brought to the Commonwealth by the Brotherhood of Steel and is now a favorite all over the region!

    Cinnamon buns: c5

    Sweet rolls infused with cinnamon and covered with icing.

    Sweet volcano: c15

    One sweet roll or cinnamon bun not enough? Want something for the whole family to share? The sweet volcano is for you! A hollow cone of sweetroll crowned with icing and a pool of warn fudge in the middle. Watch out for an eruption! (Suggested for four or more. Will cause discomfort or illness if eaten alone.)

    Fancy Lad Snack Cakes: c2 each

    A pre-war snack food now made fresh. Soft sticky yellow cake with light creme filling. Chocolate crown available upon request.

    Slocums Joe Jelly Joenuts: c5
    Glazed donut: c4
    Chocolate-iced doughnut: c4
    Cake-iced doughnut (red, blue, yellow, pink, green): c4
    add sprinkles (white, red, green, blue, yellow, pink, purple, rainbow): c1

    A favorite of Boston law enforcement, Minutemen and coffee drinkers. Served hot upon request. Upgrade any doughnut to a thick and delicious chocolate or yellow cake doughnut for just 2 caps more!

    Perfectly Prepared Pie: c10

    The crown jewel of every Port-A-Diner now made fresh just for you. Lemon Marang pie or cheesecake topped with strawberry sauce and thick whipped cream. No need to play claw this time! (Sold by the slice. Pie does not contain preservatives. Consumption not recommended after three days of unrefrigerated storage or one week with refrigeration. Establishment is not responsible for foodborn illness as a result of product)

    Mutfruit Muffins: c5

    A soft and sweet way to start any morning and made by Kingport's own Patricia Collins!

    Fresh bread:

    Slice (approximately 2 oz): c1
    Loaf (approximately 8 slices) c5

    Baked fresh every morning and free after 9 pm! Seasoned with your choice of salt, garlic, cheese or sugar. Great for sandwiches or on its own. Butter or honey available upon request.

    Alcoholic drinks (Available after 2 pm only. All prices are fixed and mandatory. Customers who enter the establishment intoxicated will not be served. Customers who misbehave due to intoxication will be ejected from the establishment with any necessary force deemed necessary by super mutant security.)


    Raging deathclaw (90 minute house IPA) c4
    Gwinnet ale: c5
    Gwinnet pilsner: c5
    Gwinnet lager: c5
    DC Pale Ale: c6
    Belgian Brew Large Tire: c6
    Pitt IPA (While supplies last) c10
    Mojave Orange Ale (While supplies last, one per customer): c20


    Shot (2 oz):
    Glass (4 oz plus ice):

    Bourbon (Four Roses, Eagle Rare, Blantons, Bookers) c5(10), c6(12), c7(14) c9(18)
    Whisky (Jameson, local brew) c5(10)
    Vodka (Smirnoff, local brew) c5 (10)
    Gin (local) c5(10)
    Tequila (NCR imported) c10(20)

    cocktails (2oz standard, 4oz double, total alcohol content)

    Dirty wastelander (Nuka-cola, whisky, mutfruit juice): c10(20)

    Angry Raider (Vodka, gin, Nuka-cherry): c10(20)

    Strong's Drink (Vodka, whisky, bourbon, red wine, double only): c25

    Piper's Pep-up (Vodka, coffee, mutfruit juice: c10(20)

    The Minuteman: (Bourbon, Nuka-cola) c10(20)

    The Goodneighbor: (Vodka, mutfruit juice): c10(20)

    Run n' Nuka (White run, Nuka-Cola) c8(16)

    White Radroach (Milk, vodka, sugar) c8(16)

    Black Radroach (Coffee, vodka, sugar) c8(16)

    Atomic Cocktail (Vodka, Whisky, radioisotope, wavier required): c20(40)

    Gutpunch (distilled alcohol, antifreeze, radroach bile, super mutants only): c20(40)

    Fragrent Rot (Beer, Vodka, jet, ghouls only): c20(40)


    Glass: c8
    Bottle c40

    Other (Waiver and doctor's not required. Service at discretion of management. One item per customer except for cigarettes. Not for use inside establishment. Violators will be ejected by super mutant security and banned from additional purchases. Cigarettes may be smoked outside establishment.):

    Cigarettes (Big Boss or Grey Tortoise) c5(single) c100(pack)
    jet: c50, refill c100
    Buffout: c20/tablet
    Mentats: c25/tablet
    psycho: c100/injection
    cateye: c100/capsule
    turbo: c100/injection
    Latest Given Reputation Points:
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  3. Simus

    Simus An Excellent Site Member

    Jul 16, 2012
    Likes Received:
    Mavis took another sip of coffee as she looked over the receipts for the last week. Business was good. Better, in fact than she had expected. So far The Drunken Deathclaw's business model had produced mixed results. When she opened up the business a year ago she'd lost money for the first six months. Too many customers had taken advantage of the free food and not enough were willing to pay for what they ordered but her new One Cap Policy had helped offset that. Brand name awareness and time had also helped and for the past few months she'd been able to break even. Now, with the edition of Patricia's bread and muffins she was finally turning a profit. A small one, but a profit nonetheless.

    That was good, but the goodwill she had generated was better. The mood and health of the settlement had improved since her arrival and she'd become very popular. She was helping people and that felt good. She'd made friends here, people she cared about and who cared about her, and that felt better. This place was almost feeling like home to her, or so she wished.

    She knew it never would, not without her sister. Not without Teysa. It had been a year and Mavis still hadn't found a way to get her out. Based on her last visit, she wasn't even sure Teysa WANTED to get out anymore. Mavis couldn't help feeling that was on her too.

    She looked up as the door chimed, telling her that a customer walked in. It was in the middle of the day and slow right now. Besides Levi, who had left a few minutes ago with a muffin, there were only two customers at the bar. Lucy had them covered and was chatting with them so Mavis was surprised when the girl called for her.

    "Hey Mavis?!" She called.

    "One second!" She called back from her office. She got up, adjusted the seat of her vault suit (it was getting a little tight) and moved her large body out the open door and into the store. "What is it Lucy?"

    "Strong's here and..."

    "STRONG WANT BUSINESS MEETING WITH MISS MAVIS." Strong interrupted, his huge form and blasting voice silencing both of them. Mavis had long tolerance with super mutants but he needed to work on his manners.

    "Strong, remember that talk we had about interrupting people?" She asked, looking up at him like a mother.

    "YES." Strong said, not understanding the situation.

    "Did you just interrupt Lucy?" She asked.


    "I hope so Strong." Mavis said, folding her arms. "Now, what would you like to talk about?"


    "But I already have Megan serving drinks. and Kyle when things get busy. You're the best bouncer I have. Plus, you seem happy with your job. Is there something else going on?"


    "Why Strong? What for?"


    Mavis couldn't help but chuckle. In many ways, Strong was a typical super mutant but he had a big sweet side to him. He always said it was because of something called the "Milk of Human Kindness." And that Megan, one of Mavis' bartenders somehow had it. The very fact that Strong could do this job without killing anyone was quite surprising but showing affection for a human, let alone a girl as small and skinny as Megan, was nothing short of amazing. Mavis walked around the bar and sat both of them down by a table.

    "Strong, this is quite possibly the sweetest thing you've asked me about but I can promise you you have nothing to worry about. Megan is a young, attractive woman and when women like her serve as bartenders they get a lot of attention. A lot of it is what you experienced last night but most of the time it isn't dangerous, for you or for her. Megan's used to that sort of thing and she can handle herself. Your story tells me she's in very good hands. Just keep doing your job and you won't have to worry about Megan. I promise."


    "You're very welcome Strong." Mavis said, holding one of his hands into hers. She was still amazed at just how sweet he was. "Now, your shift starts in an hour. Why don't I get you something to eat and then..."

    The raid sirens cut her off. Their sound was unmistakable and that could only mean one thing: Negan's men were here. Mavis had been hoping this day would never come but she wasn't exactly surprised. It was only a matter of time before Negan wasn't satisfied with her deliveries anymore and wanted to come himself. She got her hunting rifle and checked to make sure it was loaded. Of course, it was. She hoped she'd never have to use it but it was under the bar and ready for her, just in case.

    "Attention everyone, the establishment is closed!" She shouted. "Leave now and return to your homes! For your own safety, you must leave now! Strong! Lucy! That means you too! Everybody out!"

    The Drunken Deathclaw emptied in seconds and Mavis found herself alone. She tried to occupy herself with re-typing her tall black lace-up boots and adjusting her tight vault 81 suit but that didn't last long and she just stood there, waiting for him to come through that door. She didn't have to wait long.
    • Funny Funny x 1
  4. TommyTequila

    TommyTequila Member

    Nov 17, 2016
    Likes Received:
    Jarrod sat in a chair atop the battlements of Kingsport with a tin mug full of coffee in his hand. Some members of the security detail dreaded the boredom of sentry duty, but it was a job that he looked forward to. He liked the solitude and the quiet. All of the pleasant morning sounds of the settlement rose, muffled, up to his perch above them. The cool breeze and the warm sun made this shift better than most. He set his coffee down on the small table next to him and rolled up the sleeves of his collared shirt. He took his revolver from its holster and placed it on the table next to his coffee,the small box of ammunition, and the doughnut that rested there as well. He adjusted his armored vest to get comfortable and settled back into his chair. Taking a quick look around to make sure Simon wasn't looking, he pulled a flask from his breast pocket and "enhanced" the coffee on the table. A stop at Mavis's place before his shift made it all the sweeter. He took a greedy bite of his doughnut before washing it down with the spiked coffee. He pulled a wad of chew from a can in his pocket and placed it in his lip before adjusting his hat to keep the sun out of his eyes. He spat into a bucket near his feet and settled in for another quiet shift. Listening to the children playing and surveying the wasteland, he was really beginning to believe the peace would last. And, always true to form, the harsh realities of the wasteland shattered his peaceful illusion.


    He jumped to his feet and slammed his weapon back into its holster. He took off at a dead sprint toward the alarm, knocking his coffee and breakfast on the ground from his haste. He shouted as he ran.

    "Raiders! Its Negan!"

    He slammed the alarm button with his fist and grabbed the rifle leaned against the railing. The wail of the alarm silenced all the sounds of peace that filled the settlement moments before. He rushed back to his post, grabbing the box of ammo as he went. He slammed it onto the railing of the battlement and brought his rifle to his shoulder. He loaded a round into the chamber with a crank of the lever. They were still too far out to engage. He looked back and saw Henry and Simon below, arguing about whether or not to engage. Was Henry really thinking about bending over for these monsters? They were still too far out, but closing by the second. More of the security team had flooded the battlements taking battle positions. All of them looked anxiously toward the cheif of security and their leader. He tapped his foot anxiously, lowered his rifle and paced closer to the arguing men.

    "They're getting really close, do we fire?"



    pl*ps. While those two argue the point we're losing our opportunity to shoot first.

    He never thought Henry would be this weak. Regardless of what his decision was, Jarrod would follow Simon's orders. He and Simon didn’t always see eye to eye, but he was the Chief of security for a reason. Jarrod trusted his judgment. The enemy was at the gates. It was now or never.

    He turned back to the men. Henry and Elizabeth stood with defeated faces as Simon stormed off.

    Roll over it is then. fl*ff this.

    He stuffed a handful of ammunition into his pockets and jumped down after Simon, jogging to catch up. Wherever he was going, it was to defend their home, and that's where Jarrod wanted to be.
    • Like Like x 3
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  5. EpicVakarian

    EpicVakarian Calibration-Master General

    Jun 27, 2013
    Likes Received:
    Screams of pain pierced the air. They echoed around the settlement, and Gabby smiled wider. Her knife twisted in the man's nostril, and he stood up on tiptoes to try to lessen the pain.
    "I really don't care whether I have to kill you or not. I'll kill you, I'll kill your wife, hell - I'll cut your baby girl right out of her belly if it gets me what I want."

    "Please, don't," the man whimpered. "Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you, just don't hurt her."

    Gabby paused, glad that she'd gotten rid of this troublesome man's sense of resistance. Then she pulled her knife away, and slapped him on the shoulder.

    "Attaboy. Now, you're going to give me the best damn bottle of booze you have."
    "Uuuuhhh, of course. Right this way..."

    "I'm glad you saw sense. I never like having to kill the little ones. They're just so... squishy. No crunch to them at all, there's no satisfaction."
    The man nodded nervously, eyes widening slightly as he gave a pronounced gulp.
    "It's right in here. Just let me grab it..." He knelt down and reached deep into a tent. Gabby reached to her thigh and kept a hand on her pistol, just in case he had one last bit of defiance in him.

    But to his credit, his arm came back holding a dusty bottle of liquid. Whether it was alcohol or not, she had no idea.

    Best make sure.
    She drew the pistol and pointed it at him.
    "Take a drink. Don't worry, I won't shoot. Either it's poison, in which case you'll die before I have to do anything - or it really is booze, and we won't have a problem."

    The man gulped again, and nodded. Popping the cork, he took a massive swig of it, to Gabby's outrage.
    "Woah, woah, woah, woah." She approached, her eyes narrowed and her jaw clamped together. "I said a drink, not half the bottle, asshole."
    "I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I am! It won't happen again!"
    After a short pause, Gabby stepped back and smirked.

    "Yeah, I know. Wanna know how?"

    The man gave her a quizzical look, and Gabby responded by taking aim at his raised hands and taking a shot at the left one with her pistol. His screams rang out again, and when Gabby got a clear view of the result, she winced.
    Two fingers, the ring and pinky, had been blown clean off by the shot, and were laid on the ground nearby. The man was huddled on the ground, clutching his mutilated hand and weeping.

    "Come on, man. Really? You're just going to take that?" She crouched by his side. "Come on. Retaliate. You could do it. Right now. I dare you - I double dare you, motherfl*ffer."

    The man stared up at her, and for a short moment Gabby almost thought he would do it. But then, he lowered his face once again.
    "Yeah, that's what I thought."
    She took a hold of the two severed fingers, then stood up straight and lobbed them, as far as she could in a random direction.
    "Hey, at least you have some scars now. Makes you look less of a bitch than you are."

    That was their unit leader, Gabby's commander. They were on their way to Kingsport, to collect their tribute. Small settlements like this were the starters, while Kingsport was the grand, spanking main meal.

    "See you later, buddy."
    She turned, and left the man lying on the ground as she followed the rest of her group.

    A couple of hours later, their army arrived at Kingsport's gates. Their welcoming party, nothing but a loud, blaring alarm that made Gabby's ears ache. She gritted her teeth, angered at their reception.

    But she had no time to be angry. Right now, their Overboss, Negan himself, was strutting right up to the gate, his baseball bat held arrogantly over his shoulder. The entire army fell silent as he reached the gate, and banged his bat against the gate. Three long, ringing notes, and then his own voice echoed around the area.
    "Little pig, little pig. Let. Me In!"
    Gabby did nothing but smirk, and wait for the Kingsport group's response.
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  6. CapObvious

    CapObvious A Rotten Scroungeral

    Mar 29, 2013
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    The cloak of night hung over the commonwealth as Negan’s forces marched through, footsteps heavy as they traipsed through the dust and dead grass toward their objective. Greentop Nursery, now stronghold of the Disciples, heavily fortified with one purpose. Try to survive the slaughter Negan was about to bring upon them. To prove that they did not need stand with him to thrive on his turf.

    Ashur didn’t know whether to admire their stones, or merely pity them.

    She herself marched against her former sisters in arms, hammer held firmly in her grasp as with each step she came closer to severing those ties for good. They were foolish for betraying the overboss. Unsatisfied with the cut they were handed, like most in her line of work were wanting more. All too eager to bite the hand that fed. They had a good thing going, and would have been kings in this shackled commonwealth had the greed not rotted their brains. Ashur had always believed Nisha to be a fool for opposing Negan from the beginning, and now as she saw the fortified outpost come into view, she only felt more and more justified in those beliefs. They had to know this was stupid. There was no way Nisha and the rest of those double-crossers would be coming out of this alive. Not that it bothered Ashur. She never liked them, even when she herself stood amongst their numbers. They were a means to an end. A stepping stone for her to reach where she was now, and from there, even further. Today, she would show them just how short sighted they were. How foolish they were for throwing their chances at greatness aside. That if they stood with the rest of the gangs instead of wanting it all for themselves...

    They would be counting caps in their new digs instead of on their knees counting how many teeth Ashur knocked out of their mouths with one swing.

    The group halted their advance, and Ashur’s heartbeat began to sing as she wrung her hands over the sledge's handle, gritting her teeth in anticipation for that first kill. For the chance to finally knock some sense into her former comrades, though it was much too late for them to gain any sort of forgiveness. But she wanted them to know that they fluffed up, and for them to feel that sinking failure in their guts before she spilled them over the farm’s fertile soil herself.

    They lingered a bit longer, every man chomping at the bit, ready to tear the stronghold apart, and each of it’s inhabitants with it. Ashur especially, who seemed to lose focus of anything else around her as he breath began to quicken, the desire to kill riding out upon her exhalation in the form of a rumbling growl. Her eyes narrowed in on a particular path as she braced herself, lowering her head and gripping her hammer tighter, ready to charge at a moment’s notice. She would have to close the ground quickly, as no doubt there were turrets and firearms pointed outward, ready to fire at the first sign of trouble. But it wouldn’t matter. They would not stop the combined might of the gangs of Nuka-World.

    No one could.

    A chorus of cries and shouts opened up the fray as gunfire was exchanged, Ashur’s immediate area lighting up with muzzle flashes as she tucked her head in and began her sprint, storming the outpost with the other melee fighters of the group, desperate to close the distance to begin their slaughter before they could be picked off. She charged like a bull toward the walls, hammer pulled in toward her, braced for any sort of unexpected impact as she burst through the center opening. She did not miss a beat as she entered their fort, letting her momentum carry her as she spun about, hammer outstretched, and caught the first unlucky bastard to attempt to stop her directly in her jaw with a satisfying Crack.

    A loud, brutish roar escaped her lips as a pair of them charged her, brandishing their signature blades as they rushed to attempt to stop her before she could cause more damage. Big mistake. As the first swung his blade they met only air, Ashur ducking below the strike before gripping the hammer from the top and thrusting it into his throat in an impromptu uppercut, the momentum effectively aiding in snapping the man’s neck. The other came from behind, managing to wrap his arms around Ashur’s neck. However, he fared no better. He was met with a hard jab in the gut from the bottom of the handle, forcing him off of her back. Disoriented, the man began to stagger about, leaving Ashur with just the opening to bring the hammer over her head, and bring it down hard against the unprotected rear of the man’s skull. The force of the impact lodged the hammer within as it drove the unsteady man downward, his face planted firmly into the mud below their feet with a thud. She moved forward quickly, planting her foot on his spine before pulling up hard, freeing her weapon for another swing. As both adrenaline and what remained of the psycho sang out above the sounds of battle she planted her feet firmly with a grunt, eyes darting about instinctively, dissecting the battlefield as she composed herself to continue her merciless slaughter.

    Who’s next? She mused under her breath, smirking as she wiped some of her enemies’ blood from her cheek before breaking into a run, ready to bring the hammer down on the next unlucky fluffer who stood in her way. One such unlucky bitch stood in awe of her, frozen in place, likely pissing herself out of fear of the show the woman had performed. As Asher’s deadpan gaze moved to the woman she began to shake, but remained unmoving as she directed herself toward the woman, hammer raised, her rallying cry becoming the last sound the bitch would hear before her skull was split in two.


    Dawn began to break as the group bound up what remained of the Disciples, piling them all in toward the center of the town.. Asher watched from the porch of the main house, smoking a cigarette as the former encampment as they rounded up what remained, those who surrendered, and those who the boss likely wanted to speak to personally. She could recognize a few of the faces as they were escorted past, marred with dirt and twisted with looks of disgust and despair. But she felt nothing for them. They had brought this suffering upon themselves. Every action and choice, every casualty avoidable if they had just put aside their egos and seen the bigger picture.

    But no one ever accused the average disciple of being sensible...or intelligent for that matter, the only good use for a disciple brain was splattered in bits against a wall for decoration. A pastime she would be enjoying at that moment, were they not going to sit it aside to go for another promising score. Ashur stood to her feet, grinding the butt of the cigarette into the age old concrete. With a roll of her shoulders and a pop of her neck she moved to where the others gathered the remaining enemies they had left alive. She had hoped Nisha, Dix and Savoy managed to survive this.

    Their faces were sure to give her a good laugh.


    While the wastes of air and skin awaited their deaths in Greentop Nursery, the raiders instead moved further east, preparing to get themselves another jagged piece of this great commonwealth puzzle. Kingsport. Now that was a prize to crave. While she was indeed ready to bloody her blade and hammer with the disciples, the challenge was long gone by that point. They were at her mercy now. There was no fight, no drive. Kingsport, with all those poor saps just trying to make a little piece of heaven there in the bones of old Massachusetts, lied a far more tantalizing test. As they drew closer, and she spotted the sentries moving about the walls, a smile crept upon her visage. She felt herself hoping they would be stupid enough to fight. Try and protect their families, keep from paying their dues. Turrets armed while not yet firing, whirring off in the background as they all advanced upon the vast settlement, unafraid of any sort of surprises this place had to offer. She had heard plenty of the amount of effort they went through to keep Kingsport breathing every night, but it mattered little. They might get lucky, have a mine go off and get a few. A turret or two that light up a small group before they can make the gates. It would not matter. Eventually their numbers would overwhelm, and when the full weight of Negan’s army crashed into Kingsport like the waves on the nearby shores, there would be nothing left to save.

    And he knew that whoever was in charge knew that, as the man himself waltzed up to the gate, bat in hand. He waited for a moment, gazing over the offending structure before he took the bat and smacked it against the gate three times. While doing so, his voice rang out above the banging. “Little pig, little pig. Let me in.” He mocked, waiting for the doors to slowly open, and allow them to get their hands on the prize within. She found herself smirking arrogantly as the gate began to budge, bringing her hammer over her shoulders in a resting position. “Seems like they have sense after all." She said to one of the saviors standing beside her. She spi to the ground before continuing. "Shame. Guess I’ll just have to break a few more things to compensate. Sure that they'll be happy to oblige.” With that the raider she spoke to turned, his crooked, yellowed teeth flashing to her as he listened. She smirked once more before looking back out among the prize. Her mind glinted with the possibilities of the fun she was about to have there in Kingsport, and her mind drifted to Gabby, who she was certain was among them at this moment. She would have to make a point to find her in this mess before too much fun was had. Never was fun to revel in their suffering alone, after all. But she was pleased with herself as she looked over what was easily soon to be their new terf, the possibilities of which were dancing about in her mind.

    But she knew that when they were to get in there and start looting, there was one place that hold her attentions. One that would become her prime target as the others swarmed their new digs. Somewhere her friend would be likely to meet her.

    The Drunken Deathclaw.
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  7. Daryl Dixon

    Daryl Dixon Well-Known Member

    Feb 23, 2013
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    The Overboss stood there as the gates slid open. "Easy peasy lemon squeezy." He said as he walked on through. "I like it!" He looked around and stopped. "Which one of you pricks is the leader?" Henry stepped forward. "Me." Negan easily stood over Henry by at least two inches.

    "Hi. You're Henry right? I'm Negan."

    How did he know his name? The way he said it was like a declaration. Hi, I know who you are. I know you've heard of me. "What can we do for you?"

    "What can you do for me?" He turned to his men. "Can you believe this? Your compliance is just too damn much! I thought for sure I'd be bashing in skulls today. Well, I will be." He walked past Henry as the raiders poured into town. "Frankie, loot the place. Introduce yourself to the townsfolk."

    Henry looked to his men, who he hoped were smart enough to see how well equipt and how many raiders there was now that the gate was open. Most of them were covered in blood, cuts and bruises. They had been in a fight, they had won.

    "That's Frankie. If I spot some suspect behaviour, I'll be posting a garrison consisting of him and his dick brigade here and you sure as pl*ps don't want that."

    Negan strolled up the road and took the bend around the house and saw the open plains of farming, housing and the marketplace. "Hot diggity dawg! A damn bakery. You people are living the life!" He walked up to the bar and bakery, sniffing the air. The Drunken Deathclaw. The door creaked open and he stepped inside. "See, this is the kind of thing that just tickles my balls." He spotted Mavis' large figure behind the counter. Unmistakable. "Mavis darlin', fancy seeing you here."

    "Hello Negan. A pleasure as always. Come to see the new business?"

    He turned to Henry, who was following him. "I can't be the only one to notice we got a fat lady in charge of the bakery, right?" Henry gritted his teeth. "Looks like quite a bit is going here." He said, poking her belly with his free hand. He then put his left hand back into his pocket. Mavis couldn't help but giggle as Negan jabbed her soft belly. He'd never mentioned her weight before and it wasn't because he didn't notice. He was putting on a show for Henry and the others and she needed to play her part. "Well, you know what they say Negan: You are what you eat! I just figured if I'm selling rolls all day I might as well look like one!" She gave him a playful, obedient smile. One she hoped he'd remember, when the end came.

    Negan grinned wide. She pulled that off without missing a beat, he was impressed and didn't expect it. He had to test her limits. He had to test his new business partner, Henry. "Do you know how to make those donuts with jam inside?"

    "The Slocums Joe Jelly Joenut? The one you can buy for 10 caps with a cup of 81 coffee? There's a whole plate right in front of you behind the glass silly!" She pointed past her belly to the section of glass counter it was pushing against. A plate of doughnuts was under the counter, directly between them.

    "Oh, my. You know how to please a man." He said with a sudden jerk. He moved himself closer. He spoke a little softer. "If you like, I think it would be enjoyable to screw your brains out. If you were agreeable to it of course?" He said with a charismatic grin and a lean in his stance.

    "Oh my..." She said, her face flushing pink and a practiced smile on her lips. She leaned into him, speaking softly. "I do seem to remember our...appointment now that you're here." She whispered into his ear now. "Why don't we go upstairs and you can help me out of this vault suit. It can get VERY tight, especially after a few of those doughnuts."

    Negan couldn't help but smile as he tried to study Mavis. This was a power play. He could tell Henry hated this, but here she was making this easy for him. "Here, hold this." Negan said to Henry, shoving Lucille toward his chest. Henry took it and stepped back. "Wait here." He grabbed Mavis' hand and led her upstairs. It wasn't that Negan was particularly attracted to Mavis, but first impressions are important.

    Roughly thirty minutes later Negan came down the stairs, leather jacket undone revealing his white shirt underneath. Mavis was nowhere to be seen. Likely still upstairs getting dressed. Henry almost couldn't believe this. Negan grabbed a jam donut from under the glass and took a bite. "Let's go." He grabbed his bat back and walked out the door. Several raiders had walked in while Negan was upstairs and were eating the goods and making vile comments. As Henry and Negan walked through the settlement he could see most the people had retreated to their homes. Small houses dotted the land and didn't hold much value. Kingsport had been founded with the Manor and Lighthouse, and became a retirement village before the war.

    Negan didn't look much further, but stopped at the view of the ocean. They stood over the railing Levi and Henry had spoke before, where it all started. "Lets be real here Henry. You have it good. Almost too good. Now, I don't know if you spread your legs this wide for the fl*ffing often, but I like it. I am enjoying myself. For that, I'm not going to kill any of your people. Not unless you make me." Negan spoke with a calm professionalism. A change from his upbeat sarcastic mocking. "I'm making the hard decision here to not let my lads and ladies kill a few of you. Show you what happens when you resist. They don't like it, I don't like it. But you are now contributing, you're under our protection. Don't let it go to your head, don't get the wrong impression."

    Negan stopped and stared Henry in the eye, awaiting response. "I did what I had to. My people are alive, that's what matters to me."

    "As long as it keeps you in line I don't give a flying fl*ff what your reasons are."

    Negan began to walk back to the front of the Manor near the gate. Henry felt crushed as he watched their stockpiles get loaded out onto Brahmin Caravans headed to the raider outposts. Most of them were done now and waiting by the gate.

    "Alright, load up the caravans and send em packin home! The rest of you, you know where we're headed. Henry, I'll be taking you and some of your people on a little field trip. So you'll be coming with me. That a problem?"

    "No, no it wont." He said, shamefully. he couldn't refuse him now. "Will we be back by nightfall?"

    "No, probably not. Also, I'm going to need you to leave your guns. Take whatever else, fine. The guns stay." Raiders began picking people to come on the road trip and the fighters pushed themselves forward to protect the weak.

    A Savior was instructed to go collect Mavis and she was brought out too. In the end Henry, Canaan, Mavis, Levi, Jarrod, Elizabeth and Bryce were taken from Kingsport. Throughout the trip they had to listen to the Raiders talk about what a prize Kingsport was. How amazing it was to have the settlement under their control. They talked of visiting often. They were happy. For Henry, today was his most shameful day. He saved his people, but for how long? It was a nerve wracking trip, leaving the settlers to mull over in their minds what had just happened. The possibilities of what was about to happen. They arrived at a place called Greentop Nursery.

    It looked very different under Savior control. It had been built up. High walls, large spikes protruding from the ground on the outside. Inside was a bloody mess. Dead raiders littered the ground from all three of the powerful raider gangs. Negan entered first and before him was a helmeted, almost masked woman. "Remove that." He said to the Operator holding a gun to her head. A few other Disciples were on their knees aside her, and some were standing off to the side.

    The Kingsport settlers stood off to the rear, Raiders within arms reach. A woman with short dyed pink hair approached them. "Margarett," Negan said, "Make sure our guests stay in line."

    "With pleasure, boss." She said approaching them. She didn't seem threatening, and just stood on the edge of the group. She was much cleaner than the other raiders and even had a nice scent about her.

    "Henry, you're here to see what could've happened. What can still happen, if you don't obey."

    The dull roar of the raiders speaking amongst themselves settled down to near silence. The Pack and The Operators were present, with guns to the Disciples. Their leaders were also here.

    "Nisha, Nisha, Nisha." Negan sang. "Of all people to stab me in the back, I honestly thought it'd be Mason. No offence."

    "As long as you remember who has your back, boss." A man, clearly leader of The Pack, said. He was dressed incredibly strange. He looked ridiculous. Why anybody would follow him, Henry would never know.

    "I most certainly do. Be loyal as a dog and you'll never be treated like one."

    Henry watched the interaction. The most powerful raiders in the Commonwealth in one positon. If the Railroad hadn't destroyed the Brotherhood of Steel this would be the perfect time for a sniper team. They were the only ones who had the firepower.

    "The hositility you've shown me after being granted a damn near third of the Commonwealth on a silver platter, sealing yourself in one of MY outposts? That pl*ps just does not fly Nisha, not one bit."

    "It was MINE!" She roared, spitting on the ground in front of her.

    "HEY!" Negan yelled. "No. Don't raise your voice at me. You know damn well what is and isn't yours for the taking. I have had enough." He was yelling, but he was still in control. Henry got the sense he was enjoying this, despite the trouble. He couldn't tell if Negan was truly angry. It was hard to get a read on him. Negan smiled as he stood over Nisha's uncovered face. He gestured with his barbed baseball bat as he talked.

    "You killed my people and made me make a mess of my own land. Also, when I sent my people to kill your people for killing my people... You killed more of my people. Not cool Nisha, not fl*ffing cool. You have no idea how not cool that pl*ps is." His face grew grim. "But I have a feeling you'll be up to speed shortly." There was a short pause. The tension was damn near strangling. "Yeah, you are so gonna regret crossing me in a few minutes." Then he gave a slow, sadistic smile. "fl*ff yeah you are!"

    "Look Negan, if you're gonna kill me get it over with. Otherwise, lets talk this out. The Disciples need a leader. Commonwealth scum wont cut it. You need me to rule them."

    "No. I don't think they're gonna need one."

    Negan turned and walked to the Kingsport settlers who were standing petrified in their own space. He took his place before Henry. "You see Henry, whatever you do, no matter fl*ffin what, you don't mess with the new world order. The new world order is this, and its really very simple so even if you're fl*ffin' stupid which you very well may be... You can understand it. You ready? Here it goes, pay attention." Negan smiled as he casually tore down the life the settlers once had. He had his bat hover up near Henry's mouth, pointing it upward. "Give me your plops, or I will kill you."

    After saying this he walked over to Nisha, but gestured to the raiders who promptly shoved the settlers in Negan's direction so they were closer to him and Nisha. They crowded around to the left. "Today was a bad day. I had to invest a lot to knock you down. I came all the way out here to put you down, but at least I met these fine folks." He said, briefly pointing in their direction with a wink.

    The Overboss faced toward the settlers, hovering eye contact over each of them. "You're here so you can see who I am and what I can do." He continued on to the other survivors, studying them as he talked. He made motions with his stance, body and bat as he talked. "You work for me now. You have plops, you give it to me. That's your job. Now I know that is a mighty, big, nasty pill to swallow. But swallow it you most certainly motherfl*ffing will." He stopped in front of Canaan, who he could see was very unhappy. "You ruled the roost. You built something. You thought you were safe, I get it." He continued on to Jarrod. "But you are not safe, not even fl*ffing close. In fact, you are fl*ffed."

    He briefly passed Mavis. "More fl*ffed if you don't give me what I want and what I want is half your plops." He continued to pass up and forth the line. "And if that's too much you can make, find or steal more and it'll even out sooner or later. This is your way of life now. The more you fight back, the harder it will be. So if someone... Knocks on your door. You fl*ffing let us in, we own the motherfl*ffing door. You try to stop us? We will knock that fl*ffer down. You understand?"

    He leaned in to Henry, invading his space. Knock it down echoed in Henry's head. That could have happened. "What, no answer?" He stepped back again, addressing the group. "I don't want to kill you people, just want to make that clear from the get go. I want you to work for me. You can't do that if you're fl*ffing dead now can you?" He tapped his bat on Henry's chest. "I'm not growing a garden."

    He smiled. "Normally we would be having this conversation with you propped up on your knees as I beat the living pl*ps out of one of you. But since you were so compliant I've decided to break the routine. You get to live." He frowned. "Don't make me regret it." He said with a cutting edge. "You let us in without needing the punishment, for that you don't get hurt. I am reasonable."

    He then spun around and turned his attention to Nisha and advanced upon her. "But YOU killed my people. A whole damn pl*psload of them. More than I'm comfortable with. For that, for that you gotta fl*ffin pay. So now..." He stood over Nisha who was beginning to show signs of fear. She was sweating profusely and stared at the bat that was held before her. "I'm going to beat the holy hell out of you." She eyed the barbed terror as he held it up. "This... This is Lucille. She is... Awesome." He looked down at her trying to hide her emotions. The once proud fearless leader reduced to nothing. A demonstration of The Overboss' power. "When I first met you three gang leaders, I warned you not to snake me. Not to get greedy." The other gang leaders nodded in recognition. "Then what'd I say? I said I would shut that pl*ps down, no exceptions." He stood over her. "I don't care how powerful you think you are. Now I don't know what kind of lying a*sholes you've been dealing with, but I'm a man of word." He crouched before Nisha. "Sucks don't it? The moment you realize you're getting fl*ffed on. Nothing beats it. It's like time and space freezes and you really get to feel it." He stood again.

    "Negan, please. I fl*ffed up. Please. I will do anything, anything." He smiled. She finally understood this wasn't just a power play, this was real. "Just let me live. Let the Disciples live."

    "Even those that think they are strong eventually beg." Margaret said, who had been relatively silent thus far. "Weak."

    "I did say it, no exceptions!" Negan stood up and brought Lucille up and down upon Nisha's skull with a crack. Even though Henry knew it was coming, it was so sudden. People flinched, even the Raiders. The sound of her skull splitting open was was loud and distinguishable. She attempted to get up but just twitched and violently jerked on the floor. The severe brain damage was done, he could've stopped there. He brought that barbed bat down again and again until her head wasn't recognisable anymore. He beat in her head with a spring and a bounce in his step. It became nothing more than a bloody pulp of brain matter and skull fragments on the pavement. A Disciple got up and charged Negan but was gunned down and the Overboss ignored it. 4 minutes later he was done. Left on the ground was an absolute mess.

    "You shouldn't have fl*ffing crossed me." He said, cold. Finally, he was done.

    He turned casually to the Kingsport Settlers. With bloody bat he approached Mavis. "Sweetheart, feast your eyes on this." He said, holding the dripping bat in front of her like a trophy. Like he was proud of his handiwork. He pointed Lucille toward Nisha's crushed skull. "Lookin' like the insides of a jam donut."

    He then approached Henry. He could see brain pulp and pieces of skull adorning the weapon. "This could've been you, or someone you love."

    Henry nodded and accepted the message. "I'm talking to you, you fl*ffin answer me."

    "Yes, Negan. I understand. Loud and clear."


    He walked back over to Nisha's corpse. Margaret aside them turned to the group. "That was a lesson, learn it and learn it well. If you continue to comply you will live. Do not let the Overboss down. He does not take it too well." She turned her head over to Negan laughing above a dead Nisha. "Head back, scavenge for the boss. Make sure he gets what he wants and how much he wants."

    "We will."

    Margaret looked to Elizabeth, who had her head down. "I am so disappointed in you." She turned and walked away. Henry turned to his group and they began to leave. He could hear Negan talking to one of the raiders behind him. The Kingsport settlers were yelled at and abused on their way out.

    They travelled the roads in silence. He decided to tune his pip boy radio into Diamond City radio to lighten the mood. I'm Right Behind You Baby! Played. He turned it off. For the rest of the trip he kept looking over his shoulder. He didn't sleep that night. The next morning he called a town meeting in Mavis' bar and bakery. It was packed shoulder to shoulder with people and he stood at the front.

    "Yesterday we made a deal with The Saviors." He said, starting off. He scanned the worried, disgruntled and confused faces. "The Overboss came to our gates with an army bigger than I've ever seen. If we had of fought them then this room wouldn't be so packed. We'd still be fighting right now. They would fight us out, I know they would." He briefly looked to Canaan. "They were at least 4 times our size. The deal is simple. We provide for the raiders. They come every week and take what they want, half our supplies. In return they protect us. We get to live."

    The building erupted into chatter until Henry silenced it with the raising of his palm. "What a load of pl*ps." He said. "I made that deal so we could survive but we're not going to just stand by while they take our things, abuse our people. Make us uncomfortable in our own homes. Make our families feel unsafe. We will play ball for the time being but in the meantime we hide what we can. We will plan how to take Negan out. Once he's gone it wont be long before the raiders are at each others throats again. We will fight them when the time is right. When that time comes I need everyone ready."

    "Henry... Even if we could kill Negan the other raiders will send their full force at us. Even if they turn on each other, they'll destroy us first."

    "No, they won't. I'll have Canaan talk with whats left of the Minutemen. We'll establish communications and have them zero in artillery on our location and the surrounding areas. We will see what manpower they can spare to aid us. They're still kicking and they wont hesitate at the chance to take Negan out once and for all."

    "Henry, you're wrong." He frowned, he was becoming frustrated with her and he was too tired to deal with this. "They're going to kill us, you're going to get us killed. Can't you see?"

    "Elizabeth, shut the fl*ff up."

    She, along with many others, was shocked. She stood wide mouthed before she left. "Its no kind of life if we die in chains. We will make them think we're broken, that we submit. Then we strike back, so gear up for war. The storm is coming."
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  8. TommyTequila

    TommyTequila Member

    Nov 17, 2016
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    Frankie paced back and forth behind Negan as he rapped on the gate of Kingsport. A line of red warpaint screamed underneath each dark eye, his hair spiked up for the occasion. He smiled and paced back and forth. A new settlement. It's citizen's still full of pride, feeling invincible behind their walls. Probably still eager to resist. The thought of crushing that pride made him smile even wider. The more the citizens of the commonwealth learned their place the less work there was for him and his small band of miscreants. They were as antsy as he was, and it was getting harder and harder to control the constant in-fighting that broke out amongst the Goblins. His carnival freak show of a gang paced restlessly behind him.
    The gates to the settlement swung out tentatively, as if the walls themselves held trepidation to granting entrance to these intruders. Frankie fought back the urge to burst through the gates and followed his leader inside. As they walked in a small group had gathered in the front area of the settlement. Frankie's smile didn't fade as he paced along the wall of settlers that had formed around the group of raiders, furiously chewing his bubble gum.
    "Hi. You're Henry right? I'm Negan."
    At his feet, he saw a Teddy Bear. Discarded in the dirt, abandoned when the alarm sounded. He picked it up and looked at the crowd with a look of feigned concern. He addressed the crowd, careful not to speak over Negan's conversation.
    "Did someone lose a teddy bear?! Does this belong to someone? I don’t want to see some child's best friend left behind in the dirt!"
    To his dismay, no one was dumb enough to say anything. He ripped the head off of the toy and threw its body into the nearest woman's chest. The Goblins paced hungrily behind him, eyeing Negan. Like a pack of hyenas waiting for a lion to be done with its meal so they can have the scraps.
    "Frankie, loot the place. Introduce yourself to the townsfolk."
    This was the order they had been waiting for. The hyenas burst loose, cackling and screaming as they went about the work they took so much pleasure in. Frankie hung back as the townsfolk watched the goblins tear apart their town and terrorize their loved ones. Ethel, Frankie's second in command, was uncomfortably close to a young woman, making rather obscene gestures with one hand and keeping the woman's husband at arms reach with another. Ethel was an unattractive and unhygenic woman who inadvertantly whistled at the end of certain words. Her hair was mostly shaved, with small tufts in some places that were very long. On special occasions such as this she brought the tufts to the back of her head and braided them, so the braid hung almost to her butt. A raider once made fun of the way she spoke, and that man is now short a testicle. Frankie suspected Ethel kept it somewhere still as some kind of trophy
    Biggie, a particularly angry midget, was riding around on another woman's shoulders and laughing hysterically. He had cut off the woman's ponytail with a knife and was holding it up like a trophy. Most of the others had already dashed past the townsfolk and were ransacking homes and businesses, trying to get first dibs on the loot. Little John, A giant man built like a barn with about as much brains, was the only one slow out of the gates into the action. Easily distracted, and usually high on Med-x, he is slow to do most things. His big meaty head was shaved and his eyes drew your attention. Not only were the bright green, but his perpetually constricted pupils made his irises all the more noticeable. He seemed unenthusiastic about scaring the townsfolk, but the pull of obligation led him to punch a man in the face on his way to help the others with the heavier loot.
    While the settlers looked on impotently, Frankie looked for the ones reaching for weapons, or having to be pulled back by their comrades.
    Please do something stupid. Please.
    A few stood out to him and he made his way over. He walked slowly as he approached a terrified young woman, who he overheard someone calling Elizabeth, while blowing a bubble. He pulled it out of his mouth, still inflated, and stuck in on to her forehead. He got right into the face of the man next to her, who stood protectively close. Eyes not leaving the man's, he put his revolver to her head and pulled the trigger.
    The gunshot made everyone jump, even the Goblins. The bullet only popped the gum bubble. Amazingly, the man kept his head, but the cowboy next to him didn't. He shouted and reached for his weapon stopping only when another man grabbed him by the arm and held him back.
    Frankie jumped into the Cowboy's personal space with renewed enthusiasm.
    "No! Don't stop him! Things were just about to get interesting! Come on, Cowboy! Stop me!"
    Frankie had to look up into the taller man's eyes. He didn’t speak, but the eyes with which he stared back were boiling over with hatred. Frankie removed the revolver from the Cowboy's holster. He held it, barrel to his own head, handle outstretched to its owner.
    "Come on! Oh, I bet you'd love to pull this fl*ffing trigger. Spill my fl*ffing brains. Please, I'm begging you to pull this fl*ffing trigger."
    He pulled the hammer back to make it even more tantalizing. Hate dripping from his expression, the man didn't budge.
    Not today.
    He threw the revolver into the dirt and spat on it. Cowboy retrieved it slowly, shaking with anger, wiped the spit off and tucked it back into his holster.
    "That's Frankie. If I spot some suspect behaviour, I'll be posting a garrison consisting of him and his dick brigade here and you sure as pl*ps don't want that."
    Jarrod followed Henry protectively into the Drunken Deathclaw. After he had run after Simon, he had stopped by his own shack. There he had strapped a bandolier across his chest and grabbed his lever action shotgun. He now put that shotgun onto a table in the corner of Mavis's place and took a seat at it. He poured himself two fingers of whiskey and watched the scene unfold. He needed something to keep him calm. This roll over pl*ps was not in his vocabulary. If Simon hadn't held him back he probably would have executed that little Goblin right there in the town square. He took a sip of the whiskey and took a deep, quivering breath. He watched Negan take Mavis upstairs, and fought back the urge to jump out of his seat with another sip and another deep breath.
    They were upstairs for a long time. Henry stood near the bar, uncomfortable, impotent, holding that smooth talking fa*got's bat. Frankie was wearing the teddy bear's head as a codpiece and was thrusting his pelvis in the air to the pace of the muffled noises coming from upstairs. He stared at Henry while doing this, loving how uncomfortable the man looked. The one he heard them call little John was eyeing a cake in its stand on the counter. He removed the lid slowly, and just as slowly cut himself a small slice. With his two big mitts he ignored the slice he cut and took the rest of it, almost the whole cake. He stood there taking bites out of it and smiling like an idiot. Is this the best they have? Is this what Henry was afraid to fight?
    After what seemed like ages, Negan came back down the stairs, looking purposefully more satisfied than he probably was, almost comically so, enjoying the hateful eyes on him. Pompous fl*ffing asshole. On his way down he grabbed a donut.
    fl*ff this.
    Maybe discretion was the better part of valor, but that is never how Jarrod operated. Shooting first kept him alive this long. He closed his eyes.
    He stood up, grabbed his shotgun, and unloaded into Negan. Three blasts, blowing chunks of meat off of his body, before he fell. He dropped the shotgun and drew his revolver, dropping two raiders before focusing on the goblin. He shot him right in the dick, through the teddy bear head. Stuffing exploded out into the air as he screamed and fell to his knees. Jarrod walked up to him and put the gun to his head, forcing him to look into Jarrod's eyes through his sobs as he pulled the hammer back.
    Jarrod opened his eyes. Looked at his gun, still on the table, looked at the Goblin, still alive. Looked at Negan, still digging in to his fl*ffing jam donut.
    He couldn’t take this anymore. He walked out to the town square to wait until their conversation ended. He caught a glimpse of Simon and walked up to him as casual as possible under the conditions. He didn’t want the attention of any of the Raiders still nearby. He stood close enough to speak but didn’t look directly at him.
    “There is only a couple of men with Negan and Henry. If we take them out together, we can hold Negan hostage and squash this here and now. I know what Henry said, but I’ll follow your orders.”
    Simon shook his head, and spoke without looking him in the eye. His stare was distant, unreadable.
    "No, it's too late. We would just get our families killed. Henry has made his choice, now we have to live with it. I'm going to go be with my family while I still can."
    Without looking back or giving him time to respond, he walked away from Jarrod in the direction of his own home.
    Jarrod stood in the town square as Raiders carried off anything valuable in the town, some bumping into him as they went about their work. He didn’t know what to do. For the first time in his life he felt completely helpless, and hated it. With nothing to do he just stood there. He watched as the big raider lumbered off with a crate of sugar. Sitting on top of the crate was the dwarf raider, munching on a scavenged mirelurk cake.
    After a time he and a handful of the others were ushered into a Caravan and stripped of their weapons. He didn’t fight back. He didn’t need to look to Simon to know what they were to do. Give up. Roll over. Yessir, take my guns. Bullets too? How ‘bout my pants? He watched on as the raiders manhandled his comrades onto the caravan. There was nothing he could do about it and that made him hate himself. They rode in silence toward their destination, wherever that might be. He avoided the eyes of the others, ashamed. He knew there was nothing he could have done differently, but still he felt he had failed somehow.
    No. He hadn’t failed them. Henry’s cowardice had. It felt good to have someone else to bestow his anger on beside himself. He swore to himself he wouldn’t roll over again. Screw orders. If it came down to it again, he would fight. The men would follow.
    Never again.


    Frankie tried to listen to Negan drivel on but was growing bored. He’d heard the spiel a million times. He brought over a half-ruined chair to sit in while he watched. Normally he and the Goblins would be doing something productive, like terrorizing the captives or making sure they didn’t get unruly, but Margaret had the latter under control and Negan wouldn’t like them distracting from his “performance.”
    Frankie lit a cigarette and slumped back in his chair. He was coming down from the psycho he shot up before the raid, and the smoking helped calm his frayed nerves. Any kind of movement felt like he was swimming through sludge, and he brought the burner to his lips slowly as if there were weights tied to his wrist. Despite his sluggish movement, his foot still tapped a mile a minute.
    While all eyes were on Nisha’s pleading form, Frabkie watched the settlers. You could learn a lot about someone from how they watched someone die. There was a time when he would watch these executions, and like his Goblins behind him laugh and enjoy the visceral thrill of crunching bone and exposed brain tissue. After long enough, you realize the actual death was nothing compared to the fear that comes before. There is no suffering in death, but much in life.
    There have been countless reader groups and warlords, but never to Frankie’s knowledge had a person kept so much of the Commonwealth under their thumb. What set Negan apart from others wasn’t his ability to take a life, but the foreplay. He wouldn’t kill someone until they reached the pinnacle of fear, of hopelessness. Kill them too soon, and they are still in denial. They don’t actually grasp the abyss stretched out before them. Too late, and they accept their fate. Negan wasn’t just showing these settlers he was a killer, he was giving them a taste of their own mortality. Its one thing to threaten someones life, but another to make death more than just a concept in their heads. This was a visceral reminder of grim reality, a reality they hid from behind their walls.
    Nisha’s fear was building to this critical point. She was just beginning to realize she was going to die here in the dirt. As Negan finally reached the climax of his performance, Frankie’s eyes returned to the settlers. Some jumped at the sound of the bat against the skull. Others didn’t. Elizabeth tried to look away. Frankie brought himself to his feet, the chance to justify his presence arising. Being useful was the best way to stay alive with all digits attached in this outfit. He grabbed her by the chin and pointed her face back to the grim scene as Negan pounded into oblivion what was left of Nisha’s remains. No excitement or satisfaction in the Goblin’s eyes this time. Just a grim senses of duty. Levi acted this time, emboldened somehow by the macabre play before him. He shoved Frankie off of her, A familiar look of hate boiling over on his face. Frankie stared back, furious. As he tried to decide the most fitting punishment, Negan finished his work and began to approach them.
    You’re lucky. This time.
    It was best not to interrupt Negan’s example. He stared Levi down as he put out his burner on his own arm, and backed away.
    The goblins pestered and taunted the settlers as they began their long walk home. Frankie looked on, arms crossed.
    He’d be seeing them again.
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  9. CapObvious

    CapObvious A Rotten Scroungeral

    Mar 29, 2013
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    Simon stood apart from the rest as he leaned against the wall of one of the barricades, his hands wringing his rifle, frustrated as the raiders pilfered their homes. All of this could have been avoided. They could be wiping Negan’s blood from their boots right this moment if that bitch hadn’t put the fear of god in Henry, and he knew it. His brow furrowed as his pointed glare followed Negan into the bakery, spitting into the dirt when he was sure he and the group with him weren’t looking. No telling how big of a show they would have made of such a simple gesture, and as his mind slipped to his children the thought stopped cold. No. They would not suffer for his indignation. Not while he had the power to do something about it.

    Moment went to minutes, which turned to an hour as he looked off into the distance, his mind trailing as he tried to figure out what he would do. Surely there was a way to have them escape. Take Leah and the kids, make a break for it. Maybe head out west. He had heard lingering tales from some of the townsfolk of some group called the NCR. Surely it couldn’t be much worse than this, letting these goons waltz into their homes and take what they please. It took a few lengthy moments before he heard Jarrod speak, too far gone to notice his approach. He had missed a few details, but had heard enough to know that the man was just as furious as he was. “...If we take them out together, we can hold Negan hostage and squash this here and now. I know what Henry said, but I’ll follow your orders.”

    Simon’s disapproval of the idea was immediate, shaking his head as he continued to gaze off into the distance. "No, it's too late. We would just get our families killed. Henry has made his choice, now we have to live with it.” The words burned his tongue as he spoke them, the defeat and white hot shame washing over him. This is not what he had expected this morning when he had gotten out of bed. Wrangling his children as they swarmed their parents eagerly, ready to start the day. His heart and mind lingered upon them for a few painful moments, before he spoke up, finally looking to Jarrod. “I'm going to go be with my family... while I still can." With that he spun on his heel, heading back to his home, a sinking feeling in the depths of his stomach. Was it really his home, anymore?


    "I know that, Leah. But there's nothing we can do. Hen's given up. Got it in his head that we can't win. We won't, if he lets them have the run of the place. Giving them everything we-" He paused with a wince, interrupted by glass shattering and a laugh. He let out a rumbling growl through clenched teeth, before continuing. "He says he has a plan but...I just don't know, Le." Leah stepped over to him calmly, wrapping her arms around him in a tender embrace. “I know, hon. Waiting for whatever plan that boy has will be the death of me, but…” She paused, biting her lip before looking her husband in the face, a half-hearted smile soon overtaking her features. “We will find a way. We always do.” Simon returned the gesture, holding her tightly against him as if she would disappear at any moment, taking the time to truly enjoy having her so close. It was times like these that put things into perspective. No telling if it would be for the last time. The noises outside subsided and he cursed under his breath, dread rising as the expectation of his own door being kicked in grew. However, after a few moments, he felt his muscles ease. The children made their way towards them as they broke contact, Quinn clutching her brother to her chest for support as she spoke aloud. "Pa, what's going to happen now? What are we going to do?" Their son Isaac looked onward, both of their once cheerful faces stained with uncertainty. With a hefty sigh, Simon crouched down, until he could make eye contact with each of them. With this, he let out his most comforting smile, though doubted the false sincerity would be much to work with. "Don't you worry about a thing. It's all going to be fine. They'll take what they can get but we'll be sure to-" Before he could finish his door swung open. Simon rose to his feet slowly, weaving his way around the children until they and his wife all stood behind him, he their only defense from the two figures who had entered. He looked to the first man, a settler who seemed to be under an armed raider escort. Is this what it was going to be like from now on? Needing someone to watch over you as you met a neighbor, went to dinner, took a fluffing piss? What next? "What is it?" He let out, coming across a bit more aggressive than the escort likely would have liked. However, the slight went unchallenged, as the settler who was under scrutiny began to speak.

    "Henry needs you down at the main gate. They've got something planned down there. Not sure what." He said, his voice stilted. Simon nodded warily, before looking to his family one more time. He let off a resigned shrug as his eyes reached Leah, who was not pleased with the turn of events at all. She knew that things would be difficult when he had taken on the job of head of Kingsport security, but this was becoming far too much. However, he had no choice. There was no need to bring on more attention, Simon would NOT allow any of them to be used as any sort of example. That would create a domino effect that would have had his entire family dead at the town’s feet. He followed the order, moving to his family to embrace them once more, before turning to follow the escorted settler back out toward the gate. As he looked upon the rounded up group of settlers the fire in his eyes rekindled, his teeth gritting as he moved with dire purpose, watching as they were stripped of their armaments, and carted off into the back of the caravan. Simon looked to Henry as he finished speaking to Negan, moving to him for a private exchange. With a sneer the man whispered, his disdain not only for being hauled like cattle but also for Henry for getting them there growing ever the more apparent. “So whipping boy, you let them in. So what would our lovely overlords like us to do now?” Henry returned the look, certainly not enjoying Simon’s backtalk. Though he did not care. Damn coward earned it when he showed his underbelly to the overboss. He had expected such a gesture from the hussy that ran the bakery but him? He had thought better of Henry. Though he no longer was sure such respect was as well founded as he had originally believed. Henry replied to Simon simply, explaining what was going down.

    “We’re leaving town.” He whispered back, before they went on their way.


    Simon watched on as it all broke out before him, the defiance of Nisha, the seemingly endless monologuing of the overboss, and then the big pay off. Hardwood bat, barbed wire, beating upon the woman until there was nothing left to identify. He looked on at the corpse long after it stopped moving, the pulverized carcass laying limp on the floor as it’s defiler pointed the bat back toward it, a quip of jelly donuts slipping through curled lips. The sight of the sickening grin made Simon’s stomach turn, his mind flashing with images of his family being in Nisha’s shoes, all while he constantly fought giving in to despair from the imagined tragedy. His mind raced as he went back and forth with Henry, not caring to gather much more information after that. He had seen what Negan had wanted him to see, and now he wanted to go back home. Figure out what he needed to do, then get Negan back. He stopped to look the sorry bastard in the eyes before they turned to leave, his resolve hardening with each step as they left the camp. Whatever the cost.


    It was a long walk home, the silence deafening as they meandered back, broken by the events that had transpired. This was their life now. Servants. Suppliers. Dead men walking. It all made Simon sick, and he wanted to scream. At Henry, at Elizabeth. All of them. The cowardice it took to just roll over, it was disgusting. The town was restless when they all returned. He and his wife did not sleep, sitting cross legged in the bed with their children resting their heads on their laps, drifting off while their father debriefed what had happened in the camp quietly. The horror of what Henry had allowed washed over her and she wept, a free hand reaching for her eyes as she thought about what this could mean for the kids. Simon pulled her closer, holding her head against his chest as he stroked her arm, waiting for the morning sun to rise. He had heard Henry was going to speak to them all about what had happened. Whatever he had to say, it better be damn good. This fear, this dread, this nightmare they were about to delve into head first, this was not the life he wanted for any of them, and if he could stop it, he would. He hoped that whatever Henry had to say, it was the same thing he was thinking right now.


    "Yesterday we made a deal with The Saviors." The man started off, Simon crossing his arms as his brow furrowed. A deal? No. This was not a deal. It was falling in line. Don’t twist it, Hen. "The Overboss came to our gates with an army bigger than I've ever seen. If we had of fought them then this room wouldn't be so packed. We'd still be fighting right now. They would fight us out, I know they would." Henry made a point to look Simon in the eye, and was given a stern look back, his thoughts on their chances having been altered now that he had seen the nightmare first hand. He bit the inside of his cheek without a word or nod, letting the man continue. "They were at least 4 times our size. The deal is simple. We provide for the raiders. They come every week and take what they want, half our supplies. In return they protect us. We get to live."

    The room exploded with outcries and demands for answers before Henry raised his hand outward, bringing the room to silence before he continued to give them what they were wanting. "What a load of pl*ps. I made that deal so we could survive but we're not going to just stand by while they take our things, abuse our people. Make us uncomfortable in our own homes. Make our families feel unsafe. We will play ball for the time being but in the meantime we hide what we can. We will plan how to take Negan out. Once he's gone it won't be long before the raiders are at each other's throats again. We will fight them when the time is right. When that time comes I need everyone ready." Simon was slightly intrigued, feeling some hope from Hen’s words, but still not fully convinced. The battering of Nisha had certainly put things into perspective for them both, but there would need to be a plan. They likely had the defenses as they were scoped out, no doubt having taken some if not most of his traps for scrap and salvage. Something would need to-

    "Henry... Even if we could kill Negan the other raiders will send their full force at us. Even if they turn on each other, they'll destroy us first." And here it came. The whimpering child spoke again, letting her fear grip the people into inaction, just as she had done with Hen the day before. He nearly stood to his feet in protest, but to his surprise, Henry beat him to the punch.

    "No, they won't. I'll have Canaan talk with what's left of the Minutemen. We'll establish communications and have them zero in artillery on our location and the surrounding areas. We will see what manpower they can spare to aid us. They're still kicking and they won't hesitate at the chance to take Negan out once and for all." Simon looked to Henry in disbelief, a small grin forming on his features. Yes. Get the minutemen back in the fight. They had to be able to get them out of this. What had happened before was a fluke. Caught with their pants down. This time, knowing what they were up against, the Minutemen would easily be able to pry Kingsport out of Negan’s dirty hands. Simon nodded to Henry as his gaze moved to him, showing his support of the idea. However, the coward was not done, as she continued to preach her fear for the others to spread like wildfire.

    "Henry, you're wrong. They're going to kill us, you're going to get us killed. Can't you see?" Simon cursed under his breath, once again preparing to speak out. However, once again on the same wavelength, Henry impressed Simon with his response.

    "Elizabeth, shut the fl*ff up."

    The woman’s mouth dropped as she stood in shock, surprised to see Henry finally getting his wits back. If lack of sleep was all the man needed to think straight, then maybe he needed to keep Henry up more often. Start having his firing range practice outside his house perhaps. The woman stormed out before he continued, having Simon’s full attention. "Its no kind of life if we die in chains. We will make them think we're broken, that we submit. Then we strike back, so gear up for war. The storm is coming."

    Simon rose, moving forward to speak with Henry. With a firm hand on the shoulder, he half smiled. “Bout time you started talking sense, boy. Glad to have you back.” He paused for a moment, watching as the others all began to disperse. He looked back to Henry, his mind turning back to the minutemen. “Let me know when you want me to go speak to them. I’m more than ready to get those louses back to work. God knows they're needed right about now.” With a pat on his back, he moved back toward his family, more than ready to get things back to normal. Though this time...there would be far more raider blood decorating the Kingsport fences, a thought that brought Canaan a simple, wicked joy.
  10. Simus

    Simus An Excellent Site Member

    Jul 16, 2012
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    Mavis listened to Henry behind the bar with increasing trepidation. Yes, Negan needed to be resisted. Yes, giving up half their possessions was unacceptable and yes they needed to deceive him but he had given no specifics on how to do that. This kind of resistance needed smart and surgical planning and she wasn't confident that Henry could pull something like that off. He was too selfless, too honest. He had accepted the responsibility of leading the town and used it to lay them all down on their bellies. What would happen if this little rebellion was found out? Would he be reasonable enough to work with Negan or would he sacrifice himself like some hero? The rebellion would fall on its face if he did that and Negan would kill them all. Kingsport would be burnt to the ground. They and all they had would cease to exist.

    She had to agree with Elizabeth. He would get them all killed at this rate. They needed a plan.

    "What's your plan?" She asked from behind the counter. "Where are we going to hide our weapons? Who's going to train our new army? How are we going to conceal this from Negan? When are we going to strike? Do you even have a plan Henry?"
: Fallout, Negan

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