Chapter One: Let's Make A Steal

Thales took a swig of amber liquid and settled back in his chair. He was tired; his muscles ached; his head throbbed. But before him, before all of his salvage team, was a pile of bottlecaps three inches high. Currency, they were--the lifeblood, the aim, the reason that they'd just slogged through the ruins of some god-forsaken Wasteland Raider-hovel to bring back computer parts for the locals.

The sun outside was dim, as the clouds blotted the sky; the grey expanse of the wasteland went on as far as the eye could see, dotted by small structures, shrubs and the rare tree or patch of grass. The team sat on a hill just outside the small town of Avok, resting after a long day of recovering knicknacks and doohickeys from a nearby devastated cityscape.

"Another day, another dollar," he sighed. "There was an awful lot of artifacts there. Who says we go in tomorrow for another run at it?"

Fenix gave a sigh as he sifted through the remains of what looked to be an old washing machine. Picking out the workable units that he could possibly use for some gadget of his, he stuck them into a satchel.

"What's a dollar?" He asked Thales, no doubt realizing it was just another one of those made up words that Thales enjoyed using.

Soon he had dug down deep into a pile of mixed assortments; from debris to miscellaneous paraphernalia. A old box of bullets was soon clearly visible to him. He grabbed the box and looked within, cheering as he found some older rounds. He found a split between 30-40 Krag ammunition as well as old styled 30-30 rounds. He stuffed the box into his bag and continued on.

Galem just whatched as the others talked, he had been in a silent mood today. He just looked through some of the stuff left behind when he spotted a messenger bag half buried in sand, He jogged over a quickly dug it up and opend it but it was filled with nothing but sand. Galem knew the bag might still come in handy though so he dumped out the sand flung it over his shoulder.

He walked around in small circle around another bundle of stuff laying there but found nothing, 'treasure' hunting wasent somthing for him realy. He never realy could find much things of usefullnes around so he walked back and took a seat looking around at the others.

Alan Radcliff leaned against what appeared to be an old lamppost and lit a cigarette. Today they had found quite a few good items that they might be able to sell for a little more income. Alan himself hadn't found too much. He had found an old cash register with money from the world before it was blown to hell. He wasn't sure how much he could sell the trashy paper, but it was probably worth hanging on to. Those merchant rats seemed to like these pieces of paper with old people printed on them.

He took a long drag and took the cigarette from his mouth and held it, smoke trailing from the tip, adding to the already polluted atmosphere. His brown hair waved a bit in the dry wind, but it hardly bothered him. He looked over at Thales when he suddenly broke the silence.

"All I found was some dirty old paper," Alan replied to Thales with a grin. "I guess I'm just not as lucky as you guys. I say we look for another spot. Going to the same spot twice in this infinite wasteland seems boring to me."

"We'd best hunker down," he thought aloud. "God knows I need sleep, how about you guys?"

At the agreement of his comrades--though Valkyrie appeared quite frustrated--Thales nodded again and withdrew a sleeping bag from his pack. They were already inside a shelter; a bombed-out tavern still had most of its walls intact, making it relatively defensible. It was as good a place to start the next day's stories as ever.

Around them for miles was the lost expanse of the Wastelands. The ruins had crumbled away for a fair distance, leaving the lone bastion alone in a sea of sand, atop a hill; nobody could approach it undetected with an alert watchman on duty, and no ambush was possible. Given some ammunition and minor fortifying, it would make a wonderfully defensible hovel. As it stood, the tavern would do for a campsite, and so it did.

Fenix took watch for a pair of lonely hours in the night. The stars were awfully brilliant, and the twilight made clear every detail of the bushes and contours of the land; tumbleweeds drifted by on the winds. All was quiet for a time, as the rest of the party fell asleep.

OOC: Post lock for Bleach.

Emmet sat back in 'cell' it was really just a room with bared doors. There was a old bed and a bathroom. As far as being imprisoned went he had seen worse places. He had been stuck in this place for four days, he still was trying to find a way out. His captors thought they could get a ransom for him, but Emmet had no friends or family, or tribe to want him. So he was stuck here till they figured out what to do with him. The only reason he wasn't dead by now was probably the fact that he was a good medic and they were in short order. So he paid for his life by helping his captors. The door was flung open and another man was thrown in. The door slammed shut and was locked. The man looked groggy like he had been drugged, he was coming back to himself though.

"What have we here! Another victim of this sorry lot."

Emmet helped the man to the bed and gave him some water, "The names Emmet Nightshade by the way."

OOC: I hope you mean me Phantom. XD


Fenix awoke to the sounds of many things. One was a man next to him. He didn't know what he was saying, as the speech was just a dull drone in his ears, which didn't surprise him at all. He knew damn right that he was knocked out with Chloroform. The next sound he heard was the dripping of water. A small puddle lay next to himself as a brown colored water dripped from the ceiling. He didn't care very much to find out how that water tasted... The last noise that he could hear was the drone of something beneath him... a never ending dull roar.

His hearing began to improve slowly, and the man's words became clear. The man wanted to know how he was feeling, and introduced himself as Emmet Nightshade. Fenix slowly sat up and leaned against the cold cement wall of the cell. He drank the water he was offered and sighed a bit.

"My name's Fenix, Fenix Augustus... and yeah, I think I was taken prisoner by those Raiders."

After his sight started to relax and he could see a bit better, he looked around the room. They were indeed in a small, cell-like room, however it was not a cell. The floor was tiled like that of a bus-stations bathroom... which would explain the smell of old piss and the brown liquid dripping from the cieling...

"I'll be damned... are we locked in a bathroom?" Fenix said giving off a grim laugh.

OOC- yup I ment you. lol

Emmet laughed, "You would think, but no. I think we are in an old apartment building... I think we are locked in one of the bottom rooms in the basement. Ya get used to the smell, the water from the sink is... drinkable. Food comes and goes, I get some at least because I 'pay' my way around here. After these damned bandits found out no one would be willing to pay for my release they didn't know what to do. After they found out I was a medic they decided to keep me around as long as I used my skills to help them. It sucks but I don't have any other options. If ya have some friends on the outside and they have money you should be out of here in no time." Emmet smiled a little.

Fenix listened to the other sounds for a while, then stood up, at first a bit wobbly, however his old legs started to come back. He looked to Emmet and gave a short smirk and point over his shoulder with a thumb at the door to the small cramped room that they found themselves in.

"A medic huh... well, I'm a damn soldier, so I doubt they'll find much use for me. And... I somehow doubt that this place is a apartment building. The sounds of outside aren't around us, and the architecture of this place is definitely not that of a building above ground. I have a feeling I know where we are, but the only way we'll know if I'm right is by breaking out of this shitty place." Fenix said.

He looked to Emmet and the doubtful expression he wore on his face. Standing straight, he cracked his knuckles and grinning mischievously. He put a hand on the bars to the cell and ran them down, then gripped it and shook to see how sturdy it was.

"Say... Emmet, have you ever had that feeling of adrenaline? Did you know that if one could concentrate that feeling into something.. intense, that that man could temporarily gain the strength of many men?" Fenix asked rhetorically.

Fenix suddenly closed his eyes and stood rigidly. The hair on his neck visibly stood up on edge. His hearing became sharp, sharp enough to hear a pin drop in a busy room. His skin started to take on a sheen on slight sweat. His eyes shot open, the pupils were pulsing about rapidly. His muscles contracted and relaxed quickly, building up a rapid mass and power. The energy within his body was enough to make him scream. His teeth were gritted as the sensation got more powerful. Fenix ran terrifyingly fast to the bars and with a single punch, backed up with all the strength that his adrenaline could muster, into the solid plate iron door.

The metal gave off a loud dull ring as the punch connected, then the sound of a blast. The doors hinges blasted apart and the door, almost fifty pounds, shot into the wall of broken sinks seven feet at the other end of the small room. The door broke the mirrors and busted through the wall partially. The plate that was hit with Fenix's fist was dented inward. Fenix stood in the open doorway breathing heavily. After closing his eyes, he exhaled, slowing his breath and relaxing his mind and muscles. Afterall, the prolonged use of that ability, lovingly referred to by Fenix himself as "Adrenaline Rush", could mean his potential incapacitation or even death.

After a short moment, Fenix was back to his normal self, although the hair at the back of his neck still stood as a small aftershock. He casually walked out of the cell, stepping happily onto the bits of wall and debris that the smash of the door caused. He looked back at Emmet with a smile after opening the door of the room and gazing around.

"I knew it... we're in an abandoned sub-way station.... hey, aren't you gonna escape?"

Emmet smiled, "Glad they stuck ya with me! By the way, nice power ya got there. Haven't seen many people who have been gifted." Emmet smiled a little wider as he stepped out of his cell. "Nice to be out of that hole.... now where to go, I have no idea how I got here so I am utterly useless when come to finding my way around." Emmet breathed deeply, his senses were picking up a slight trace of invader, for most people this would be a warning to stay a way but for Emmet it was a welcoming thing. "Hey could ya hold on for a sec." Emmet walked over to the end of a wall and stuck his hand in a hole, sure enough some invader had found its way down. Emmet reached for it and touched it, he let the feeling course through his body healing all his cuts and bruises. He felt some more energy in him too. He was ready for a long trek now. "Thats better, now I can get going." Emmet smiled at the look on Fenix's face, "You not the only one with special abilities, mine happens to be that I can be healed by invader. Strange but useful. Now lets get the hell out of here before the guards come."

Fenix chuckled slightly and patted Emmet on the back. As they headed out of the room together, they looked around the corner to make sure that no enemies were coming their way. When they found none, he unconsciously reached for his shoulder where his 30-40 would be... he felt a bit empty without his trusted rifle, TAR-21, Trench Knife, and gear. With a sigh, he looked to his new "partner in crime".

"Guess I'll just have to use my fists to kill the Raiders..." He meant it more or less as a joke, however he knew that he was able and willing if he met any who got in their way. "Hey, when we bust out of here, you should join our little group... me and my comrades. I think we need a good medic too." Fenix suggested.

With that, Fenix started to go down the hall. Without thinking, he pressed his back to the wall like the soldier he was. His fists where clenched, essentially preparing to bash faces, kick ass, and of course take names [for reference]. As he came to the end of a hall, he found a set of lone stairs leading down, most likely to the underground sub-way tracks. He found faintly hear the voices of a couple of people below on that level, no doubt Raiders.

"Looks like I'll get some revenge on those dirty bastards... good, I was looking for a fight."


OOC: Post locked for the others. HURRY UP RED... you need to invade just as we break out.. >_>

Thales was up a moment later. It was still night, as he could tell from the twilight outside, as he got his bearings.

"Everyone up!" he shouted, as he reached to grab his rifle. "Arm yourselves!"

The party did so rapidly. Thales was the first to leave the tavern, taking a look both ways as he did so. There was no denying it; he didn't want to see what might have been out there. This was the Wasteland, and terrible things happened out here. Fenix, for good or ill, was nowhere to be found.

Around the party was the vast expanse of the Wasteland night, and the rolling dunes, beyond which lurked entities unknown and insidious. After a moment of frustration, Thales muttered something.

"It's time to brainstorm," he said aloud a few seconds later. "He's not a bloody mess, so there aren't any Reavers involved."

Valkyrie looked around, already trying to decide between fearing all was lost or hoping that things were going to turn out nicely.

This would mark the second person close to her that she lost.

:Perhaps...Slavers? No...there was no battle, and only one of us are gone. But what else...?:

She looked around, noticing a disturbance. She knelt next to the "disturbance".

:Tracks...From horses. Going...: She took out a compass, replacing into the pocket it came from. :East. But what is to the east? Best tell Thales. He might know.:

Valkyrie called Thales over, gesturing to the tracks.

"Horses. The number is difficult to tell, since they left single file. They appear to be heading East, as well. Although, what could be out there is a mystery to me."

"That's mostly ruins," Thales said aloud, after taking a few deep breaths from his aeropack. "Used to be a commercial district, if my research holds true. Easily a million hiding places."

He hefted his backpack onto his shoulder effortlessly, and checked over his Melior.

"There's no use of us standing around. The longer he's gone, the bigger chance that they kill him, or worse, throw him to the Slavers. Team, let's move out!"