Posts by Weltschmerz

OOC: Keep in mind that I've been off of this site for a month XD

IC: Robert trailed behind him and didn't say another word. He kept an eye out for more Enclave soldiers, as the rig was suspiciously empty at the moment. It had went from a frenzy to a ghost town in a matter of minutes. He kept his guard up, and switched the energy rifle out for his normal rifle. Now and again he would raise his rifle up at something he thought was a threat, and it would turn out to be nothing. And so it was that they made their way to the president's office, as was labeled outside in large bold letters, accompanied by a name. The door was ajar, and inside there was a scene of massacre. Bodies of enclave members littered the room. Heavy breathing was coming from one area, which Robert proceeded to gravitate towards. He saw the man which he had shot, as he was sure from the shattered window, as well as the similarities through the scope. He was still alive, but was surely dying. "I think you've got your man." Robert said as he disarmed him and tossed the gun aside. Robert heard a voice and noticed that it came from the man he had seen before, who seemed to have a lake of blood pooling around him that came from him, and him only. Robert strode over and took a sterile rag or two out from his pack, and began to dress the wound.
"So we meet again." He murmured, making a mere statement.

"We're losing him." Robert really only could perform simple First-Aid, and he knew it. He applied pressure to the wounds he bandaged, and could only really hope for the best. He was wary of applying a tourniquet, but he figured that he might have to soon just to stop bleeding more. "Don't die on me..." He muttered at him.
"Do something useful d*mnit!" He shouted at the teenager who was still standing there. Robert let the other man be by himself, and went over to the president. He shook him angrily. "Tell me where the doctor is on this ship or I will make your last moments on Earth the most painful."

OOC: May be gone for a little while. May be.

IC: "Sh*t!" Robert mistakenly took the members of the Brotherhood of Steel as Enclave members and dove behind a desk. The Brotherhood of Steel Members then mistook him for an enemy combatant and opened fire on the desk that Robert was behind, shredding the front of it to bits, and some bullets went piercing through the back. Robert felt a sharp pain in his shoulder as a bullet nicked him. Robert pulled his pistol and fired two rounds blindly over the desk, and checked the cylinder. There was one more bullet. He put the gun to his head, and tentatively began to squeeze the trigger. Being caught by angry members of a faction would be a worse and more painful death in Robert's mind.

"F*ck you Enclave!" Robert yelled over the desk, still believing the Brotherhood to be Enclave. "I'll kill every single one of you b*stards that come over here!" Robert knew that he would be annihilated the moment one came behind the desk. He eyed the broken window in front of himself anxiously, looking for a way to escape. But that would only be a sheer drop.

Robert grudgingly stood up and threw up his hands at this realization, bleeding slightly from his shoulder. He looked over at the president, who looked by all means dead. He lied in a pool of blood, motionless and pale. Robert looked back up at the Brotherhood members, who were slightly different than the Enclave members. Though not by much.

OOC: I go off the site like this sometimes just cause of inconveniences :/ Joining the sequel.

Name: Robert Ingleson
Age: 42
Occupation: Unemployed; Takes small side jobs when he can
Appearance: Robert generally sports an unkempt look, and his blond hair that has begun to gray is more often than not dirty. Not that he likes looking that way. He has five O' clock shadow most of the time as well. He wears beat up and dusty clothes with various patches in them. He is lean and skinny.
D.O.B: 2204, 4th of March
Place of birth: Slums of New Vegas
Skills: Robert is a crack shot with his rifle and pistol, when he can afford ammunition for them. He can be stealthy, and can run faster than most people.
Other: G.O.A.T He generally doesn't trust other people much as he was born in a slum, and was raised in a slum.

OOC: Hey guys, my wifi is down where I go on half the time -_- And it still is :/ Nice to be back though. Give me a minute to read through the pages.

OOC: Thinking about joining your Wasteland 2.1 thread Pvt.

Trouble. Robert saw a jeep get tanked by a group of other men off on the horizon. He checked his pockets for ammunition and came up with only a few mismatched rounds, with only two of them being usable in his rifle. He cursed the fact that he worked so much and had nothing to show for it. He pulled his pistol out of his holster, and saw that there he had six rounds. He gazed down at it a minute, turning it over in his hands, totally oblivious of everything around him. He rubbed the side of the barrel with his finger slowly, and muttered down at it. "The times you've saved my hide..." He thought about Matthew and John, of whom he'd never seen after he had escaped the oil rig. He often fancied settling down, starting a family, and looking up old ties. Maybe he could sit on the porch of his house one day, and drink a beer with those two. He had hoped that Matthew had been saved, he had been so far gone at the time. He knew that there would be no rest for him, though. There never was. And so he looked back up, shoved the pistol back in the holster, and began to run.
He ran as fast as he could, his pack scraping against his back, and rifle jostling with the pack. He stared intently ahead of him, looking at the wreck now crawling with men. There would be no turning back in a moment. He could turn away now, and hide somewhere for the rest of his life. No. The car was flipped over, and began to speed towards him. It seemed that the original inhabitants of the car were in it again, so he ignored it. He counted forty of the other men. Eight bullets and one knife. He figured he could take out at least twelve of them. His whole mentality told him to charge in and make a last stand, end his life now in a blaze of glory. Something deeper in him made him hesitate though, falter in mid run. Maybe self preservation, or maybe a respect for his life in some way. That somewhere inside him he knew that he had accomplished something worthwhile in his life. Robert paid no time to think about why he stopped, he just did.
Robert dropped down on his knee, unslung his rifle, and loaded it. He aimed for a moment, and then fired. One man dropped as he attempted to get on his motorcycle. He loaded the other bullet and shot a man who came to investigate. Robert set his rifle down and pulled his pistol. He missed a first shot, but the next shot he took hit home. The men, not knowing the source of the shots as they had been fired so fast, hit the dirt or hid in the wrong directions. Robert took two more shots before deciding to stop. He had two shots left.
Robert began to run away. He picked up his rifle and ran, picking up shell casings quickly as well. He could scrap those, or try and make bullets using them. It took a short time for the raiders to spot him, and they came swiftly when they did, especially since they had a motorcycle. He couldn't outrun a machine. Some trailed the motorcycle on foot. He smiled a rare smile of his, knowing he had done some good. A raider on the back of the motorcycle shot a couple of shots at him. They came close.

Robert took a foolish shot backwards with the pistol he drew, and it did little but waste one of his precious bullets. The motorcycle was dangerously close, and Robert took a final shot at the motorcycle. Whether by luck, skill, or a combination of both, the bullet came in at an angle and hit the motor, causing it to sputter and smoke. This infuriated the riders, who jumped off and resumed pursuit on foot, with one shooting at him. Robert tripped on a rock, and tumbled to the ground, right into a shallow divot in the ground. Dust puffed up from the rim as bullets hit it. Robert lay, stunned as the raiders gained more ground on him. His senses reawakening, he pulled his hunting knife out of his belt. He figured that he would charge the first one, and hopefully use him as a shield if the other one had the gun. His chances were slim by all accounts, as the rest of the raider horde was right behind them.

OOC: Will be gone a bit, will be back later.

Under other circumstances, Robert might have said something along the lines of, 'Well blow me down!' But that seemed like an all too probable outcome of the situation, and he declined to answer. He couldn't stick his head up, but he saw the top of the jeep, and he did hear the call. He turned his head back to the direction of the raiders just as one crested the edge of the hole. Robert gave a loud cry and charged him, putting all his force behind the knife. The raider had a knife drawn too, and Robert had thrown himself on the knife. It became a battle of the wills, as the other raider still had some ground to cover. Robert was in great pain but forced himself to put himself down on the knife further, while also thrusting his knife into his opponent. He groaned, and with a last heave, forced his opponent down on his knees. He leaned all of his weight into the other man, and the knife went even further in. The raider had lost his grasp on his knife and cried out in pain. The raider squirmed a short while before giving up, and he stopped moving. Robert took the knife out of himself and cast it aside. He attempted to stop the bleeding.
Robert was swept off of his feet, and tumbled back down into the divot yet again. Now without any weapon of some kind, he lay there as more blood gushed out from the knife wound in his abdomen and the gunshot wound in his shoulder. The other raider crested the hill and gloated upon his victory.
"No knife, no guns eh?" The raider sneered at him. Robert spat at his feet, and got a response of a kick in the side. In immense pain, Robert groaned and rolled over.

OOC: Backzezes. Eggmobile? Or Round Raider :3

Robert looked up at the woman leaning over him, and squinted as a result of the pain. "D*mn knife in my abdomen and a shot in my shoulder." Hearing John, he added, "I'd say about forty." Robert slipped of his backpack and grunted as he wormed his way up to the crest of the crater, and looked out. Rocks flew at the car and the crater, as well as a few bullets. Some were shot down as they ran up, and already a number of them littered the ground before the car. He turned his head back to the woman. He noticed she carried the raider's knife. "Gotta get my knife. It's carried me through things. A relic from a few fights I've been in." Robert held his side as he crawled out slowly. It was a stupid thing to do, but the knife was of some value to him. He wound his way slowly across the ground until he got within arms reach of the knife, and grabbed it. He struggled to yank it out for a short time, but finally managed, using his luckily uninjured shooting arm, his right. A rock flew near him and hit the side of the car, and bounced off. He quickly made his way back in a sort of a commando crawl, slipping under the car.
He immediately began to rummage through it. "Got any medical supplies?" Robert pulled out a roll of bandages and shears. He knew he would need surgery for the bullet, and he could die on the operating table.

"Luck." He muttered. "Is it luck that I got shot in the arm, and got stabbed in the gut?" He leaned in close to her face, a very painful thing for him to do. "No." He leaned back and looked at the supplies for a second before looking back down at his. "Keep them for someone else." He grunted again, and looked back up out over the edge of the crater. It was worse. He began to dress his wounds, not trusting the woman to do it as she seemed to know less than him. As he finished the quick patch job, he only said a few words to her. "Settle down, start a family, and don't end up like me." He hoisted himself up to the edge again, and looked down at the bandages. A little bit of red had already begun to seep through.

OOC: I feel for you XD

"I realize that it could get infected." He turned his head to the side to talk to the girl. "I've been alive forty two years so far." He paused in mid sentence as a bullet hit the metal side of the car near his head. He began to yell as she exited out of the crater. "And I d*mn think I got shot and stabbed to save your hide. Not to mention that I don't have much to live for." Another bullet hit, closer this time. He crawled down the slope and grabbed his backpack and rifle. He then crawled back up the other side where the girl had exited."Fool." He muttered mockingly to himself. "How about a thanks for drawing them off?" He smiled a little as he saw John's silhouette as he emerged from the car. "This girl doesn't have any manners John." He looked around on the ground a moment, crouching behind the car. "Got any ammunition for a thirty caliber John?"

"I don't have time for petty arguments while we're being shot up." Robert shook his head as the woman attempted to argue with him. He didn't need that in his life. "Respect your elders whether you like them or not, because to live longer than forty they've been doing something right. That rule will carry you a long way." He was a geezer compared to most others, as many people died in their late twenties or mid thirties because of confrontations or shootouts.

Robert affirmed what John said with a nod, and clasped his side as pain shot up through the knife wound. He grunted and crouched down further, pulling out his revolver instinctively, which was useless at this point. He threw the cylinder open and inserted three bullets. He had scavenged from the dead raider as well as got his knife back. He closed it but didn't put it back in the holster.
"Let's get this rolling." He had lost all sense of happiness at seeing John, and the girl had helped sour his mood back to his usual grim. "I'll start the car." He offered to John, looking at him intently. "A wounded man is a burden to bear and better to lose him than someone else who is unscathed." Getting into the car would be dangerous at this point, as the raiders with the guns had all come closer and were holding fire until someone popped up. Climbing into the car would expose part of him.

Robert whipped his pistol up and used his injured arm as a rest as he fired. He took a shot at one who was popping out from behind a cluster of rocks, and it hit home, knocking the man over, who did not stir thereafter. Robert aligned another shot with his pistol, and fired. It hit the man in the torso, and caused him to stagger. It seemed he had a kind of armor on. He was more careful after that however. Robert quickly flicked his eyes across all of the assembled raiders, and tried to decide which one to take a shot on. He quickly saw a short and stocky man emerge from behind the remains of an old and broken down car. He was yelling and made vigorous hand gestures, and seemed to be running behind the men, egging them on. He also dressed slightly differently from the rest.
"Spotted the leader. Little guy running behind them whipping up a frenzy." Said Robert in a barely audible tone, trying to align the shot with some difficulty, as the leader would pass in between cover and behind men. Dust shot up at Robert's feet as he was being shot at, but this didn't throw him off. A rock sailed passed his head. "Can't get a good shot on him."

"D*mnit." Robert dropped down to the ground as a rock hurtled at him, causing it to miss him by a few inches. "Throw me a few bullets John." He had landed sharply in the gravel and had caused further pain for himself as the pebbles jammed themselves into his body near the wounded areas. "We can't shoot them forever, John." Sitting here would do them no good. Already some had started to flank them. He didn't know if John noticed them. One of the raiders that had flanked them charged, and Robert shot him as he came up, causing him to fall down into the crater with them. He had a bat, and no guns. Robert cursed him. Robert was formulating a rough plan in his mind all the while. "Can you ever shut up and do something useful?" Robert turned his head to the girl angrily. "Throw d*mn rocks if you have to!" Robert had just happened to have picked up a nice sized one with his uninjured arm.

"Well I do happen to be in a hole, and we all happen to have a large chance of dying." Robert threw the rock as far as he could, and it shattered when it hit a larger rock that raiders were hiding behind. "And you..." Robert paused as he lobbed another rock, this one getting closer to his mark, "Frankly aren't doing much." Robert looked over at her, and she seemed to be seething. He didn't do anything except pick up another rock and lob it as well. "So pick up a rock and throw it at my head." Robert picked over a few rocks in the gravel as he was talking. "And I'll pull a knife and gut you alive." He pulled the knife out of his belt, which was already caked with dried blood as he had done a quick job of cleaning it. Robert pointed it in the direction of the raiders. "Or you can lob rocks at the b*stards, and accomplish something here."

OOC: Interested, but haven't played Dead Space :/ Need to read up on it before I submit a form, just so I don't totally get everything wrong. Already did read a little bit.

"D*mn idiot." He was surprised she wasn't spotted crawling away, and eventually one of them would figure out where she was. Not to mention she would have to come back eventually because she ran out of ammunition. As well as while a bush conceals you, its not the best cover if you're found out. In short, it was a high risk for her to go out there.