[[FORUM EVENT]] All the Fun of the Fallout Fair

[Alfred F. Jones]

[Conner Kirkland-O'Connor]

Straying from the route was one thing Conner rarely, if ever did. He liked to get business done and get his wares, aka the pups, sold so he could spend a part of his portion then head on home to restock. The life of a traveling salesman and part time brawler was fast paced and straight forward, with the only surprises being in the ring. When one of your stock runs off though you sort of have to chase it or risk explaining to mom just how you lost a pup on the way to Vegas.

"Stupid dag, where the hell didya go?" Conner grumbled, lighting another home rolled cigarette as he trotted up the road. It was one of his last pups to sell, and the most rambunctious of the litter to boot. No wonder it had run off as he tried to set up camp. With the rest of them tied up a ways down the road with the strict orders to stay and attack strangers he'd gone off after the runaway. The looming shape of Stratosphere Canyon loomed just up ahead and the closer he got, the more eerie he felt.

"This place give me the willies... Maybe ah should-" The pup barked excitedly and the sound echoed. Right. Focus. The Fae were on his side, he could do this. And so he trudged on, getting closer and closer t the rusted gates and burnt out, destroyed bulbs that once boasted in bright letters the name of the park.

[Alfred F. Jones]

So he didn't have the world's best grasp of geography—he'd grown up in a Vault, OK? Everything ran north to south, east to west, up and down. It was hard to get lost! The world needed to give him a break already, because this wasn’t even close to anywhere he’d ever want to be.

Alfred stretched to put his boot down between two rusted support beams, hefting his gun through the gap in the fence and made the jump with a crackle and skid of wet trash and dead leaves. An’ probably dead…stuff. The new bit of ground sunk down under his feet, seeping in wet and cold through the leather of his boot. Alfred made a face, desperately looking around for somewhere dry to step.

SOL.


Above him the large Ferris wheel made a big spider against the skyline, cars that didn’t seem to move creaking ominously when the wind tugged at his hair. The cars that were left, anyway. The ground was littered with the carcasses, and the impact dents where they'd come crashing to earth. Alfred, with one soggy foot, craned his neck back to eye them. They looked…pretty secure, he told himself. ...yeah, they all looked like they were stayin’ up there.

The broken out fronts of stalls let into shut down, dark rides as Alfred crept out of the underbrush surrounding the compound. The sign above his head read Stratosphere Canyon, and somewhere in the distance he could hear a dog barking. Heart going a mile a minute, Alfred spun on his heel and jerked his gun up in the direction. He stood there like an idiot, staring into the darkness, but the thing kept barkin’ and nothin’ moved.

If something suddenly started to play music, he thought, he was gonna piss himself. Only not really, because he was way too awesome and that was gross, but you know. It was creepy.

The wind rattled, dry and radiated, through the arcade behind him and something went CLANK. Alfred whipped around on it, unloading three shots into the utter silence before his brain could catch up with his trigger.

[Blair Campbell]

There were few things that truly unnerved Blair, but this definitely was creeping up to the top of the list. Having ignored the warnings of the current caravan she had been travelling with, she had come down to the abandoned amusement park just to explore. Sure it wasn't the most brilliant idea she'd ever had, but hell, what was life without a little fun? The creaking Ferris wheel loomed like an awkwardly-shaped mountain against the sky only furthered the wild idea of poking around before simply spiriting herself off again.

Passing past the carousel, she paused, examining the wood beneath the chipped paint that was probably once bright and inviting before a life of no upkeep and exposure to the dusty desert had robbed the place of any brightness. She had reached out to touch one, just to be able to brag she had, when she heard in quick succession the bark of a dog and the sound of shots being fired. Pulling her hand back quickly, she darted instead behind the horse, her own pistol drawn as she glanced around her impromptu shield for the source of both noises.

[Conner Kirkland-O'Connor]

Conner dropped to the floor with a curse, fumbling for both his falling cigarette and his gun at the same time and failing spectacularly at both as he tossed in the dust. He heard no tell tale whimper and howl of pain after the sudden shots so the pup should be fine. If anything it made him twice as worried. There was at least one other person lurking around this deserted park and they had a gun to boot.

"I swear if it's a bandit pack..." He heaved himself to his feet, not bothering with the dust as he picked up his pace, cigarette laying forgotten in the dust and both guns drawn. Attempting to keep his steps whisper light the ginger jogged towards the gates, veering off a bit along one way, eye looking out for an easy break in the fence that he could sneak into. Most looked too small but -

"Fuckin' hell you stupid pup!" he swore, slinking towards a hole in the rusted fence that has a bit of fur attached to it. "You really had to sneak inta the creepiest place on this side of the state?" With nothing to lose, except maybe his life from the mystery shooter, he started to try and squeeze his lanky frame through the break in the fence as the missing dog had previously done.

[Alfred F. Jones]

((Wow, shit, sorry. Managed to miss that it was my turn!))


Alfred’s heart was beating almost as fast as the automatic still smoking in his hands. He swallowed, swallowed again an' slowly lowered the muzzle. A bent slot machine handle swung out of the darkness, back, and dropped to the ground with a wet clunk. The blond stared at it dumbly, feeling his face heating up. Almost as hot as the metal burning through the leather of his gloves.

An' I only just repaired it! Shit... He needed to stop running into bandits the second he stepped out of Reno; the last round had done for his back-up. If he wasn’t careful this one was gonna blow up in his face sooner rather than later, but what was he gonna do about it out here? Between getting his face peeled off or gettin' eaten alive by dogs, Alfred could do without a face!

The silence sounded five times as loud after the splutter and boom of his stupid. He had to move before anything was attracted by the noise.
 
The barking was going off again, followed by the chorus of wolf-song in the distance. Alfred swore, swapping the gun between his hands to slap the heat out on his thigh. He'd never sworn much in the Vault, but out here the wolves...no, everything, pretty much deserved it. The world was a horrible, hungry place. The wolves might or might not be hungrier than he was, but he didn't want to find out in the middle of a theme park. Mickey wasn't the last thing he ever wanted to see.

Screw this, he decided. No really, screw it! He was going for the generator. If the whole place was gonna be a freak show, he was gonna see what he was being terrified by! Only, he was fairly sure it was up there where the damn barking was coming from.

Alfred used to think he was lucky. He still mostly did, it was just that sometimes the world decided it hated him like a PMSin' girlfriend. Right now they were in the 'I HATE YOU DIE' stage. Alfred grit his teeth, re-checked his gun and started off at a quick clip up the road. One dog was better than a pack, no question.

[Blair Campbell]

The carousel horse was proving to be a horrible shield, and Blair cursed herself quietly for having thought it would make a great cover. Moving slowly, and trying to keep as quiet as possible, she moved from behind the carousel horse to one of the carriage that offered a bit more protection. The barking was getting closer, and she found herself spinning slightly trying to keep all the open space that still surrounded her in sight.

"Damnit," she grumbled, stamping her foot down and standing up straight. "There ain't nothing to be 'fraid of here." Jumping the backside of the carriage, she stepped through the decaying opening and off the ride. She didn't really know where she was going to go now, though away from the direction she thought the gunshots had come from was probably a good idea. Turning, she started down the road between several of the decaying rides whose names she couldn't even guess at. She had just passed a ride of circular cars on a round track (why would anyone want to go in circles and get dizzy was beyond her) when she heard the barking immediately under the ride.

Frowning, which she seemed to be doing a lot because of this place, the red-headed woman moved cautiously towards the ride. Under the ride was pitch black, no lights left to even give the shadows a bit of relief, but she could hear something moving under the ride, accompanied by several frantic barks. "Oi," she grumbled, unwilling to leave whatever it was trapped under the machine, even if it might try to take a bite out of her. Crouching down, she moved cautiously towards the moving mass pausing only to tug a knife out of her bag of tools. Grabbing hold of some of the tubing that seemed to be trapping whatever it was, she began to hack away at it.

[Conner Kirkland-O'Connor]

Having successfully cleared the fence Conner stayed low to the ground, gun at the ready. If it was bandits wandering around this creepy playground from hell he had to be on his toes. Bastards were known for jumping out of anywhere, and that he knew from experience. The rest of the litter howled in the distance again, seeking answer from their wayward brother as well as sending chills down their owner's spine. They were right to be worried, the frantic yelps he'd heard as he came through the fence were not good and he hadn't heard much else.

"Come here boy. Here boy, come to Connie," he whispered, clicking his tongue and snapping with his free hand. He almost wished he;d grabbed a treat from his bags hidden far down the road - the missing pup always had been a little glutton and a tasty treat would have had the pup running for him. Sidestepping a fallen piece of ride though, eyeing it and its original position with worry, he started to think maybe the dog had gotten itself stuck somewhere. Except this wasn't the barn and being stuck behind some barrels of dog chow.

Conner ducked down behind a ride as he heard the quit steps of a person. Boots like most everyone wore, the steps quick and with purpose. He waited until the steps had cleared him then started back in the direction he'd been heading, still clicking and whispering for the dog.