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Jackson A light rain graced the denizens of Parkes Point on this cloudy Mojave Monday. Though an inconvenience to some, the rain was always a blessing of sorts in the hot sands of the desert wasteland. So to Jackson Parkes and the few people that lived alongside him, the rain was nought more than a welcome guest. For once, it wasn't accompanied by gale-force winds, and cast a calm, but somber atmosphere around the old building the small group of volunteers had gathered around. The deputy himself stood near the old place's front door, smoking a New Vegas cigarette and doing his best to stay out of the rain. Their job was simple-- clear out the ghouls, and start carrying out all of the old crap that was coating the insides of the building from floor to ceiling. As a safety precaution, when Jack had inherited the town and heard the tell-tale moaning of feral ghouls inside of it's standing structures, he immediatly boarded them up in order to keep the creatures imprisoned. So now, as he stood smoking his cigarette, he held a pry bar in his other hand, looking over the group with a passive expression.
"I appreciate the help from ya'll today, it means a lot." He began as he puffed on his smoke. He let a long piece of ash fall off of it's end, then spun the pry bar around in his hands with an elegant flourish.
"Simple stuff, really. I'm gonna get this door open, fire off a round or two to get their attention, and when they come out toward the noise, we're gonna send 'em to Atom. After that, we'll throw the bodies in that cart over there, "As he reached the appropriate portion of his explanation, he helpfully pointed out an old cart made of scrap and brahmin leather.
"...Then take 'em down to the burn pile by the field along with any other junk we find that isn't salvageable. Ya'll are welcome to keep anything useful you find though. Reckon it's the least I can do for the help."
Ironface Jones To maximize happiness for his tribe. That is one of Ironface's callings. Since Jackson is a relatively important part of the El Dorado Tribe the titan of a tribal has taken it upon himself to travel out here to provide aid however he might be able to. Since there's word of feral ghouls and heavy things to move the man mountain has elected to wear his power armor to both keep himself safe and to help him with lifting heavy things. As if he needs it. Stomping up to the settlement Jones sees Jackson there and patiently listens to the man's words, nodding his massive armored head. "I am glad to help, friend," booms a voice from the power armor helmet. "I feel as though once you have attracted the attention of the ferals to get them to leave the building I will then try to prevent them from getting to you shooting people." He holds a metallic cylinder in his hand and presses a button on it, a contained blue laser beam about three feet long appears out of the top end. "Many ghouls shall meet their doom today." And then he lowers the cylinder and turns it off, "And then we move things! I think I will be quite useful here."
Lowry      Lowry had cuaght wind of the situation and being on his way back to Vegas decided to help out. Best way to score junk and such. Hit a building no one else has been in yet. His horse, 'Despair' is tied up about thirty yards off and the cowboy reaches inside his coat. Pulling his flask he takes a healthy swig before returning it and then turns to head towards his horse. Over his backside he shouts, "Just tell yer' sheriff buddy I lent ya' a hand. Don't need no one tryin' ta put me in cuffs." His dark boots start to become caked with mud and when he reaches his trusty mount he pulls the coat off, his flannel now showing and absorbing rain. From a shoulder holster he checks his pistol but returns it and from a scabbard on the horse pulls a rifle. He makes no hurry to reach the entrance again, instead surveying the surroundings and lining up with the door. "So we's a just gonna let 'em pile out? Take 'em down as they come out? Won't be much fun fer' Iron face." He has himself a laugh now and nods to the man in question.
Salvation Jane Salvation Jane didn't mind the rain here, so much. It wasn't as stingingly acidic as in parts north and east she had been through. But it was still wet and wet meant soggy clothing. She wore a simple poncho over her attire and nodded to Jackson as he set up the plan for dealing with the ferals and the clean up afterward.

She looked to the armored figure she'd heard to be called Ironface as he showed off an energy blade of some sort and planned to stomp ferals who got past the bullets they were meant to emerge into. She drew her pistol, checked the chamber and glanced back to Jackson, "Ready when you are. It's your rodeo."
Carter Griffin Rain wasn't that big of a deal for a Ranger. I mean sure it sucked but with the heavy coat and those boots of his, he tended to not mind it as much.

He was wanting to help out his neighbors. Anyone trying to help make the Mojave a better place was good in his book. Especially when you consider that the Fiends and the Powder Gangers were always running amuck. So Carter had arrived, on foot, and set up near the building where the others had been setting up. He looked through his equipment for a moment, before slinging his rifler over his back and drawing his handgun instead. No sense wasting something that big on ferals. He'd need that ammo if something with more teeth and claws attacked.

Once he's set, he looks over at Jackson, "Give the word."
Ironface Jones "I think I will still have fun making sure no ghouls get past me," Ironface says to Lowry through the vox box on his helmet. "My laser sword thirsts for blood. I can tell because it doesn't let much leak out of the wounds it causes. It shall be very full after today's adventure." The woman that looks at him manages to get his attention and the big suit of armor happily turns towards her to announce, "I am Ironface Jones of the El Dorado Tribe. Son of Snake Puncher Jones and Spears Badly McCoy of the Sand Lizard clan." Then the huge barbarian positions himself so that he's closer to the door that will be opened than the others, turning to look over his shoulder to make sure he's not in anybody's line of fire. He's had many opportunities to learn how much bullets can hurt.
Salvation Jane Salvation Jane glances to armored helemt of Ironface and she nods with a smile. "Ironface. Honored to meeet you. I'm new to these parts." She glances to Carter and Lowry whom she also had not yet met. She offer, "I'm Salvation Jane. Or just Jane if you prefer. I'll answer to either." She glances around, "This should offer some interesting conversation to have on the radio later, I must say."
Lowry      Lowry grins at the brute, "Oh. I know you will!" He spits in the dirt and gives Carter a look. Says nothing though but rests his rifle against his shoulder. Still a good ways from the entrance. Turning to Jane he says, "Pleasure, Darlin'. So you's tha' one odn the radio' huh?" He squints then grins. "Well, glad ta' meet ya. Lowry." He gives a nod with a half smile and looks to Jackson.
Ironface Jones Very seriously, the suit of armor nods again, "It is good to know you, Salvation Jane." Jones still remembers to keep himself facing the potential horde 'o ghouls. "You are a radio person? I am also acquainted with a radio person, David Ghoulie. His station plays rock out of Roswell and he entertains many with the music he puts on," Ironface tells the human woman with a nod. Even through the voice box on his helmet he sounds impressed. "Once I had a 'rock off' with David Ghoulie and he gave me a very fancy cape. If I am reminded to do so I shall wear it for you some time." Then he looks at Lowry, or at least his helmet points that way, "Now that I have power armor and a laser sword I am prepared to hunt the firebreathing deathclaws. We need only to find them to make this happen."
Jackson Jack was glad that he was among familiar faces. Though Jane was the most unfamiliar of those faces, he was glad that the woman had thought enough of him to give him a hand up this way. As for Ironface, he was always happy to see that armored, gigantic shell. He was great conversation, and certainly a damn huge help on the battlefield. As for Lowry, though the man didn't realize it, Jack held no hard feelings toward the man over their prior scuffle. It was all business-- nothing personal. As for Carter? The deputy couldn't say he really knew too much about the man. He knew he was NCR, and he knew that the man was a hell of a talent with his chosen weapons, but aside from that? The guy was sort of a silent enigma. So, as the group conversed idly, Jack took advantage of the free moment to work on prying the door open. As he pulled and pried at the boards sealing the door shut, he did his best to respond to the gathered guests.
"Glad to see that ya'll have so much enthusiasm for helpin' out a fella' in need. Don't get me wrong, I could handle it myself it need be. But I definitely appreciate the extra hands. Between all of us, we'll have this shit knocked out in no time, and we'll be sippin' whiskey before sundown." The exertion he was putting into opening the door was made evident by the sweat pooling on Jack's brow as he spoke, but he was making gradual, consistent progress. Nails popped out of the warped driftwood, rebar was pried away from the base of the door, and plastic ties were removed from the handle with practiced precision. Eventually, after a few minutes of fussing about with the imprompto barricade he'd erected, the doorway was bare, and all that remained was the last step in his plan.
"Alrighty, I'm gonna give this thing one hard kick, fire off a round or two with my pistol, and then, we'll see what happens." The deputy remarked as he tossed the bar aside. He took a brief instant to gather his breath, then, with a grimace of concentration plastered onto his features, he drew his pistol and gave the door a firm boot to the left of the knob. The portal opened with the howling screech of rusted metal, and the moaning of the ferals could be heard the moment the door reached the apex of it's swinging arc. The lawman took a brief instant to jam the door open with the bar he'd discarded a moment prior, then took a few careful steps away from the doorway, and fired off three consecutive rounds into the sky.
The ghouls erupted from the portal with roaring, whistling screeches and cries for blood. They were certainly more numerous than Jack expected-- the group would have to deal with them quickly, lest they overrun the street! They had to be at least a dozen-- maybe two in number, and didn't look particularly happy to see any of them. The first group of three to erupt from the doorway barreled directly toward ironface, while the next screeched toward Jane. The next six ghouls simply spiraled out of the open doorway, howling toward any nearby targets and charging with reckless abandon.
Ironface Jones As ghouls appear and rush to his location Ironface's weapon ignites, the three feet of blue laser shining brightly even as the tribal begins slicing through the portion of the horde unlucky enough to charge him. Ghouls bounce off his armor even as his laser blade cleaves through limbs, heads, necks and torsos, sending pieces of ferals flying in every direction. With his empty hand Ironface smashes and bashes in a skull or two, looking like he's just using pure, brute strength to deal with those unlucky souls. "Bring the battle to me, feral ghouls!" Stomp. Punch. Slash.
Lowry      Lowry grins and racks the bolt on his rifle, the ifrst of his .223 ammo being chambered. "Music ta' ma' ears!" He shouts and levels it with his shoulder. BOOM! The rifles report echoes thru the wastes and one of the ghouls just outside IF's reach collapses, most of it's head splattered against the wall. The green goo flies everywhere and, 'Despair neighs in excitement." The cowboy laughs. "You want some too, partner!" His mount neighs again this time with a bit of fury, the icy breath from his cold soul steaming in the slight rain. He reaches out as he stomps back and loosens the horse. Hopping up in one smooth jump he takes to the mud and the rifle goes back to scabbard. His hands hard on the reigns he barrels down to the side of Iron face (plenty of room though) and his horse makes aim to trample these horrid things.
Salvation Jane Salvation Jane nods to Lowry and Ironface. "That'd be me. Nice to meet you both." As Jackson pries open the door and fires inside, she steps to the side to give herself and the others plenty of room. She raises her pistol and begins to fire, taking aimed shots.

Among the unique features of her pistol is that it is capable of firing incendiary rounds. As she shoots the first feral within her field of fire, the bullet streaks as an orange glow toward the creature before it begins to burn the ghoul from the inside out.
Jackson As his comrades leap into action, Jackson is quick to do the same. Unfortunately, he was the one who was unlucky enough to be prying the door open. On top of that, he'd been idiotic enough to piss them all off with a series of discharges from his automag. So when the ferals came flying, a fair few of them focused their sights on him. The first was dodged easily with a juke to his left. The second's claws were deftly avoided as the lawman allowed his feet to fall out from under him. As he fell, he fired off a duo of .357 magnum rounds into the first ghoul's mouth and brain, then swept the second's legs out with a well-placed kick before rising to his feet. As he reached his full height, another screaming ghoul's advance was halted with a powerful stroke of the elbow, and silenced with a careful squeeze of his Sig 357's trigger. As that particular feral's head was reduced to rotten mush, the deputy brought the heel of his boot into the head of the ghoul he'd knocked prone just a moment prior. With another splash of rotten blood, he'd reduced yet another of the rotten husks into nothing more than a corpse.
"Fuckin-- These are new boots!" He complained with a scowl, preparing himself for the next wave of zombie-like humanoids that continued to pour from the home. Another swarm of three collided with Jack full-force a moment later, knocking him onto his ass and throwing their fists into him as they piled atop the lawman's sprawled, prone body. His armor took the majority of the punishment, but the young blonde saw stars briefly as one of their rotten fists collided with the tip of his chin. In a haze, Jack instinctually brought up his right arm to protect his face, and squeezed off another .357 round blindly in an attempt to clear the pile. He'd really gotten himself into it now.
Carter Griffin Carter very briefly met Jane the other night in the old NCR embasy. Now they're side by side with ghouls coming their way.

Carter's pistol doesn't have fancy incindiary rounds. What it does have, however, is very freaking large bullets. The .50 pistol spits its own type of fire, as the deafening sound of his shots are heard.

Carter knows to pick his shots, because bullets this big will tear through a ghoul and kill the ghoul behind it if he can aim his shots correctly. You have to with this kind of gun, lets you waste very expensive ammunition.
Doc     Doc casually follows the ferals as they rush off to fight somebody. He tries to stay out of sight as weapons fire spears his newest group of observation subjects. He peers out, his glowing green eyes clearly visible in the darkness of the parking garage. His yellow hat and trenchcoat also visible, but not luminescent. He can't make out specific faces, but the builds of a couple of them cause him to take pause. He tests a theory as he vaguely hears a voice echoing in the garage. "Jackson?" he guesses in a shout. "Are you following me?"
Lowry      Lowry and his horse slide thru the mud with the wretched charge. "Ya, bastard!" Lowry shouts at the horse as he wheels it back around. He makes another charge thru the mayhem with no discretion whatsover. This time the ornery compainion kicks high and more of the green goop splatters everywhere as another ghoul loses it's head. When it covers the mans face and hat he shakes it off as the reach the outskirts. Hopping down he says, "That's enough fer one day." He pulls the rifle free again and the horse stubbornly circles looking for blood. Shaking his head Lowry just grins and aims back ifn the crowd. "Look out!" One random ghoul was behind Jane. But Lowry got ic and blew a hole thru its' lousy chest.
Salvation Jane Salvation Jane fired a second time, this time the shot hit the ghoul in the right hip, all but severing its leg even as it begins to burn. It may be effective but it is hard to avoid the stench of foul corpses burning. But they're not killing her so she's willing to endure the smell. Then she spun around around as Lowry killed the ghoul that had made it around behind her. She offers a nod to him in thanks as she looks back to make sure there are no more.
Jackson As Jackson fought for his freedom under the pile of ferals, he devoted all of his effort and energy into deflecting and dodging oncoming blows. It was difficult, nasty work with his legs pinned under the ghouls as they were, but he did the best that he could. He ducked an oncoming fist narrowly, and simultaneously used the barrel of his automag to catch the spread jaws of another feral who lunged for his throat. With a yank of the trigger and a fountain of brownish-green blood, the deputy removed his weapon's barrel from the corpse as another twin series of claws lunged for his chest and head. The first of the blows was met with the metallic screech of nails deflecting off of his combat arm guards, and the second failed to penetrate the deputy's synthetic bodysuit-- but now, Jackson was losing his temper. He was sick of being pinned under these bastards, and if he didn't move fast, he'd be reduced to nothing more than a food source.
"GET-THAFUCK-OFF-ME!" Jack announciated every shouted syllable of his sentence with an elbow to one of the ghouls' teeth, a whip of his pistol's handle to the second's temple, and a merciless shove to the creature pinning his legs. As it tumbled off of him, he rose to his feet, giving the first of the creatures another whip of his pistol for good measure, then turned his attention toward the others who'd piled on him previously with blood in his eyes. It was then that he heard Ash screaming toward him, and he scoffed in response as the world's noise faded away. Jack fell into a sort of meditative trance as he focused his attention squarely upon his enemies. The adrenaline pumping through his veins felt like liquid ice soothing his frazzled nerves, and his thoughts drifted away-- leaving only his muscle memory to pilot his limbs. With blinding speed, the lawman spun, firing once--twice--three times--four, knocking all of the ghouls who'd tackled him aside with seperate bursts of putrid arterial spray.
Doc     Doc sighs and stuffs his hands in his pockets. He saunters out into the battlefield and watches ghouls rush around him to get smashed up by his non-ghoul friends. He never did like to see people die, but ferals were a little easier to stomach than those who chose to be assholes, like raiders. He rubbed the alien alloy in his pocket as he debated using his blaster. One shot left. Just one. He was going to have to really justify that shot if it left him defenseless.
Lowry      Lowry returns the Dj's nod with a a grin and a wink. The whiskey glazed eye no doubt not noticeable from here but when the Deputy shouts it takes a full second for him to turn in his direction. One could tell there are no hard feelings as he levels again for the man's attackers... But Jackson has made quick work of it once he'd liberated himself.

     The horse was still stomping about madly at the dege of the death zone and trampling the sorry wild bastards as they escaped the slaughter that was to be their fate. Lowry slowly moves forward now, one shot taken, a feral spinning as he's hit in the leg, crumpling but jumping back up, the next round takes him in the gut, surely the end of him while the hole leaks that all familair green irradiated grossness.
Jackson With that, the last of the ghouls had been disposed of. There had been far more in there than Jackson had expected, that was for sure, but now, they could actually begin the work they'd come here to do. The lawman did what he could to remove the half-decayed blood from his fface and duster, but quickly came to realize that he'd need a lot more than he had to clean himself up. Resolutely, the deputy simply settled for wiping his face clean with the kerchief he'd used to keep his hair slicked back. So, now a bit worse-for wear, Jack idly glanced around at his surroundings. Tons of feral corpses, even more feral blood. He'd have a hell of a cleaning job ahead of him over the next few days. At least the majority of it all managed to stay outside. The last thing he needed was bulletholes in his garage. With a kick to one of the nearby corpses, he polished off his pistol with his handkerchief, then reloaded the weapon, leaving an additional round in the chamber, just in case.
"Well, I think that was the lot of them." He said glumly, kicking at the corpse once further for good measure.
"Now.. Ash, was that you I heard screaming at me? The fuck were you talking about?"
Doc     "Not important," Doc says to Jackson. "It's good to see you, regardless of the circumstances, but seriously, have you taken up following me? It seems every time I get stuck in with science around here, you're busting up ghouls in my immediate viscinity." He smiles and waves to the other participants in combat, glad to see some of them again and glad they survived, but he doesn't vocalize such.
Salvation Jane Salvation Jane looks to Doc. "we might ask you the same, Doc. You seem to attract more than your fair share....and then we have to deal with them..?" She seems to be joking but maybe not?
Carter Griffin The handgun slips back into its holster and Carter pulls his duster back around himself. He'd popped several of the ferals...Though being careful not to hit the ones directly on top of Jackson, lest he hit the deputy and start off some old pre-war song.

"Do your science experiments involve ferals? Might explain why the two things overlap.." He asks in Doc's direction.
Doc     "I seek them out, for the most part," Doc says to Jane, " be fair, since we crash landed, I've had an easier time finding them. Still, they don't bother me, and I really am trying to find a cure for feralism, if one exists." He shrugs to Jane and Carter, with a little Jackson thrown in. "I am doing my best to save lives. Just because someone has lost their mind doesn't mean it can't be reconnected. Imagine the horror if we found out they were conscious and disconnected while they have to watch their bodies do horrible things without their permission. I don't know that's what's going on, but can you imagine? I want to help people, so...yes, science involving ferals is my jam right now."
Jackson As the group started to converse with Doc, Jackson took the free moment he'd earned to clear the building. As he marched from room to destroyed room, he checked every last inch of the place to make sure that there weren't any more ferals hiding away. As he looked around, he came to realize just how trashed the place was-- wiring hanging out of the walls, broken machinery all over the place, and heaps upon heaps of pre-war junk that had been piled in here before the bombs dropped. Either the people who'd lived here previously had a serious case of hoarding problems, or they were doing their best to prepare for the apocalypse after they'd gotten the news that war was on the horizon. Regardless of the details, his task for the time being was complete, so he walked back outside to join the conversation. At the very least, they'd managed to clear one building of the plague of ferals cursing his town.
"Well Doc, I know you're into the feral science as of late.. But, I have to say.. I'm not the one doing the following here. This is my property. Parkes Point. I own every square inch of this land. Luckily for you, i'm not the aggressive type." That last bit was spoken with a sarcastic edge to his tone, and the deputy holstered his pistol with a flourish as he looked around at the corpses.
"Research to your hearts content, every last building in this town is full of ferals. But while you're here? I wouldn't mind a bit of help cleanin' up the bodies." With that said, Jack hoisted the nearest of the feral corpses onto his shoulders, and carried it over to the scrap metal cart before dropping it in with a loud, rattling plop.
"These things aren't gonna move by themselves. Least, they aren't anymore."
Lowry      Lowry looks on curiously after the ordeal is done. Listening to Doc he just squints as his neckerchief is loosened and pulled from his neck. He proceeds to wipe mud and goo from his face before focusing on his rifle. It's reloaded and his attention slowly turns back to the group as he mindlessly wipes the colt down. HE then turns to Jackson. "Hey, I didn't come ta' haul corpses. LEt's have a look around?" He's not assertive but instead starts rummaging the ragged pockets of a feral. "Shit!" HE shouts! Showing them all a quantum cap he smiles. We can burn stuff later. We should check out the guts o' this buildin'."
Doc     Doc takes a moment, closing his luminescent eyes as he puts fingers to temples, rubbing his head a bit. "Hey, Jackson," he says, "Do you think I might pied piper other ghouls in town? That is, if you wouldn't mind me setting up shop here, would you mind if I tried collecting the ferals into a single facility for research subjects?" He may not have had much of a history with Jackson, but he was starting to get one. He picked up a feral as one would a fallen soldier rather than a sack of corn, then carried it to the scrap cart and setting her in gently. He held his right hand out in the air, swiping an invisible tablet hovering in front of him downward, then again from his left to his right.
Salvation Jane Salvation Jane reloads her pistol and holsters it. She looks around and sets to helping witht he bodies. Some are already scorched and half burned to ash. It's convenient and helpful!
Jackson "Feel free. It's something we'll have to get to eventually, anyway." The deputy said to Lowry easily, waving his arm toward the garage itself.
"The majority of the scrap's inside the garage proper, but there's loads coating the interior of the building." As he spoke, he was continuing his butcher's work, gradually moving ghoul corpses across the street and into the shanty cart. After he finished speaking to Lowry, he turned to Doc after the man posed his question.
"I'd say we've spent enough time together to warrant a place on my land, yeah. I don't mind at all, Ash. In fact, in my spare time, I'd be happy to assist you with a bit of the research. Anything to help a friend. The thing I can't do for ya, though, is get you a facility. You're welcome to any of the standing structures here in town, but I just don't have the time to clear it out for ya' myself. But once you have a place all nice and secure, I'd be happy to play ghoul shepard. Twice as happy to play scientist. It's a welcome change of pace from wielder of hot iron." As Jack's words left his lips, the efforts of him, Jane, and Ironface made quick work of the bodies littering the landscape, and in time, they were all packed neatly into the shanty cart and ready for the burn pile. But the deputy would have time for that later. Now, it was time to pick. He gestured toward Lowry again as he walked toward the doors, then did the saem to Doc and the others.
"Now that that's done, we can really get to work on pulling this place apart. I need to find out just what the hell i'm working with here."
Jackson THe group spent the rest of that rainy day cleaning out the old garage. The place was a treasure-trove of junk, useable scrap, and pre-war artifacts like paper money and Nuka-Cola, but aside from that, it was relatively bland. The majority of the crap that had blocked off the interior was a result of simple wear and tear throughout the ages the building had remained standing. Lots of brick, dust, and old wood needed to be pulled out of the building and replaced entirely, but the putting-stuff-back in part would have to remain for another day. For now, the group used the energy they still had to clear out the building to the best of their ability.