Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas!

( Sssssssh we're drinkiiiiiing )

Shit, cancel the transfer. RolePlayGateway.com is severely under-managed, has horrible glitches, so bad I'm incapable of PMing people or adding friends, and otherwise. :/

Good news, however! We're continuing our RP event on murderultimate.forumotion.com!

Oh, and one final note: The RP will begin, no matter the numbers we possess, on 09/15/2015 4:00pm MST! Mark your calendars! And remember, there is no hope.. no help... there is only THE CROSSED.

LunarPolymath wrote:Kyoko didn't waste a second in bringing the mug to her mouth, tilting her head back and leaving her lips parted as she outright guzzled down the contents held inside. The more she emptied out of the mug, the further back her head went, until she was almost holding it upside down. She had no clue where she was in comparison to her competitor, but she figured either way that this was twenty spent, or twenty well earned. Once she had finished, she slammed the mug down on the counter, turning her head over to look at Tristana, curious to see if she was still drinking, or was waiting to claim her prize.

With a loud thud, Tristana clumsily keeled over, and fell back against the tough floor with an empty mug in hand. With drunken laughter she looked up to see Kyoko with her mug already emptied, and rolled over onto her chest to pick herself back up, steadying herself on the stool.

After another belch, she placed the mug on the counter and slid her lost bet into the girl's hands. "Alriiiight, alriiiight, you earned this." she said, sounding no worse for wear. For someone so competitive, she seemed to take her losses well. "Hahaha...you're good...what's-your-face...one more round on me!"

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________


Meanwhile, on the very same strip, walked the phantom of a man. Taking the occasional puff of his lit cigar, he traveled casually through the lively city, blending into its nightlife wearing a simple duster and trousers. Sure, it didn't stop every man and woman from getting a double-take at his bionic arm, but the Boss couldn't notice a single one of them past the smoke's blissful haze. Just by looking at him, one could tell he was a man that had been chewed up and spit out by life time and time again. It was about time he took a bit of vacation back to the US. The women were still beautiful, the cities were still lively, and the golden streets of Vegas were much better to look at than the barren wastes of Afghanistan. Not to mention free of a Spetsnaz presence. There still seemed to be a number of odd folks around, however...though, a woman with ruby hair looked ultimately less threatening than a man on fire, and he had been gone for a long while. Perhaps ruby hair was much more common nowadays.

@ArielSnow
@york
@Nathan Steele
@Anyone else out on the street

Degtyarev decided, after not much debate, to join in with the drinking of Kyoko and Tristana, he got up, not even a little tipsy from his beer. Weak and watered down, barely any taste to it either. Repellent stuff, he thought.

He walked up to them. "Hey, you guys got room for another drinker?" He asked with a smile. "I'll get the next round, come on." He called as he brought out some crumpled notes and placed them on the bar. "I'm having your Tsar Vodka, what you ladies having?" He asked looking over at the two women with a faint smile.

*Athena sighs as she walks out of the room. She looks at her HUD of where she needs to go* Las Vegas huh? Sounds like a greedy city for sure... *she steps out of the building after paying the ridicules fee with a scoff. She looks around at the city and all of the bright colors and variation of people* This is Earth? They seem to be very behind in technical advances... *She then realizes that this means she can no longer re-spawn after being killed. She hopes that it won't come to that. In fact she believes it won't. She knows she is way to strong to go down. She smiles ready to take on the world and pulls up her map one last time. This time though it doesn't work...* Shit. I forgot I have to see everything first and since no one else has been here yet. Welp... lets just get this over with. *She begins to walk around aimlessly as her map updates with locations*

@anyone

@Anyone she isn't very social so try your best.

The Smoking Peanut wrote:

Meanwhile, on the very same strip, walked the phantom of a man. Taking the occasional puff of his lit cigar, he traveled casually through the lively city, blending into its nightlife wearing a simple duster and trousers. Sure, it didn't stop every man and woman from getting a double-take at his bionic arm, but the Boss couldn't notice a single one of them past the smoke's blissful haze. Just by looking at him, one could tell he was a man that had been chewed up and spit out by life time and time again. It was about time he took a bit of vacation back to the US. The women were still beautiful, the cities were still lively, and the golden streets of Vegas were much better to look at than the barren wastes of Afghanistan. Not to mention free of a Spetsnaz presence. There still seemed to be a number of odd folks around, however...though, a woman with ruby hair looked ultimately less threatening than a man on fire, and he had been gone for a long while. Perhaps ruby hair was much more common nowadays.

*The man in white clothing, continued to walk past multiple civilians. To many, it seemed like he was a ghost of the past. That is, until the man stopped dead in his tracks, and raised an eyebrow, at the sight of a black silhouette that was ahead of him. The person he was looking at, was sporting a duster coat. He exhaled, and continued to move forward...closer, and closer to the unknown fellow. Jiro cleared his throat, as he closed in on the man. Once he was nearly a foot away from him, he muttered, "全部見てるで。" As he finished his sentence, he continued to move forward, trying his best to get past the fellow, who sported a duster coat.*

@The Smoking Peanut

While strolling down the strip, the citizens sped past him left and right, off to indulge themselves. Sometimes, the Boss would wonder just what it'd be like living the simple life. A pencil-pushing dayjob, a wife and kids, a house in the suburbs. The American Dream. But he was no longer an American, and chased no more dreams, only ugly truths. Such was the life of a free man. He didn't enjoy it...he couldn't say he disliked it, either. It is what it is, and men like Boss aren't born sheep.

A man ahead of him soon caught his one good eye, and time almost seemed to slow as they neared, as did his strides. Once their eyes locked, it was like looking in a fun-house mirror. Like looking in a regular mirror, only the image is distorted in the slightest ways. Boss knew by looking at him that he was a man of martial prowess; and was further proved by his concealed weaponry. Boss brought his voice to a mutter, seemingly talking to himself.

"Kaz...you there?"

A miniature earpiece in his ear stuttered to life, and another voice was being transmitted through it. "Not like I'm anywhere else with a leg missing...wait, Boss, what are you doing in Vegas?"

"Don't ask." Boss responded bluntly. Knowing him, the man on the other side didn't argue,

"Alright...what is it Boss?"

"That man, the one in the white suit, who is he?"

The other end went silent for a moment as Boss passed him by, "Huh...nice find. That man's name is Jiro, formerly a famous member of the Yakuza, and currently wanted for numerous heists along with a number of other men."

"Sounds talented. 'Shame it's wasted on thievery."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that Boss. After all, every bank robbed is a blow dealt to the US' finances, and another issue distracting them from discovering Mother Base. He may be helping us more than you'd think."

With silent acknowledgment, Boss returned to smoking peacefully, leaving Jiro to his own devices. He was the government's problem, not his.

@Nathan Steele
@Anyone who sees Boss talking to himself

After typing in the password, Jack looked at the switch.....If he activated project purity, he would die from the radiation poisoning.....but life would be given back to the wasteland, through pure water, for every, and all. Jack remembered the bible passage his dad would always tell him....I am Alpha omega, the beginning and the end, and I will give onto him the waters of life....freely His dad had killed himself for this project....and it looked like he was about to do the same. He pulled the switch.
The machine glowed brightly, so bright it nearly blinded Jack.

     Jack woke up......he was.....some were. Was this what heaven looked like? He looked around... he saw people, wearing strange clothing....most were wearing strange blue pants, and t- shirts. He was on the ground...how did he get here? He checked his pipboy on his wrist. There was no map available. The place looked like New Vagas......but....different....New Reno perhaps?
    Jack got off the asphalt....strange....it felt....smooth. Jack looked over to two people talking....he did something that went against his survival instants.....he yelled
"Hey! Can you two help me?"he yelled. Hopefully they were friendly....



@Anybody who sees or hears me

Las Vegas. Bright no matter the time of day. It was one of the rare wonders of the modern world where night and day never seemed to exist but merged into one glorious mess. So it was all but natural that the Sin City would have more than one visit from a vampire, or rather The vampire.

The renown Prince of Darkness was at that moment sitting outside a small, rather busy 24/7 cafe, enjoying a small cup of coffee in the early evening air. He sat in a rather fashionable and hardly cheap black suit, complete with well polished shoes and, some would say slightly oddly, a pair of thin leather gloves. He had to admit that the raw smells of the city were slightly intoxicating, he could detect every subtle hint of lust, desire and pain on the air, if he only concentrated hard enough. It was then that something very odd made itself known to him. A heartbeat appeared from... Well nowhere.

Calmly setting down his half finished cup and placed a small tip next to the saucer he swiftly stood up and began to make his way through the throng of men moving to nowhere, easily moving through the gaps as they formed. He arrived just as the man called for help, unfortunately for him the strange man was also stood in one of the few remaining shafts of day light.

"Excuse me friend?" He called out in what could only be called a slightly musky English accent. "Is there something the matter?" As he spoke he gave the two men who had started to look over a charming half smile that told them that they didn't have to worry about the situation anymore, even before they began to turn away Vladimir could see the whole thing was already being forgotten. It was almost pitiful really.

Jack looked at the sharply dressed man....he was wearing a pristine prewar suit, and some leather gloves. Jack straightened his duster and gasmask, and made sure his armor was still in place. The man was pale, and had a weird accent he never heard of before. Were in gods name was he? He looked at his E.F.S.....It said friendly. "Um, can you tell me were I am? Last thing I remember was turning on project purity, and then...well, im here." Jack looked at the man. He had a frightening aura around him, but that could be because hes in a strange place...

"Um, can you tell me were I am? Last thing I remember was turning on project purity, and then...well, im here.". This was most bizarre, there were only really two possibilities that concerned this strange individual, either he was utterly out of his mind and had snapped at the seams, or the far more likely there was more to this than meets the eye.

He flashed the man a warm smile and waved a small gesture for the man to come forwards. "Come now, I can assure you the air isn't so bad that a respirator is needed." Here he took in a deep breath- though this was simply for show, to put the stranger at ease, having no need to actually breath himself. "I suppose, if you truly do not know where you find yourself, allow me to be the first to welcome you to Las Vegas. Surely you have heard of it?" The thing that made him most wary of the stranger, was not the strange armour the man was wearing, nor the weaponry that he carried, but that the fact that the man had seemingly no idea where he was. Uninformed men were ignorant men, and ignorant men tend to be dangerous- ignorant men with high powered weaponry tend to be very, very dangerous.

Jack Looked at the man with Confusion. True, the air was clean, but that would leave his expose to gun fire "I would rather keep the helmet on thank you" He said to the man. then the man said "I suppose, if you truly do not know where you find yourself, allow me to be the first to welcome you to Las Vegas. Surely you have heard of it?"
Yeah.... he must be mad, because Las Vegas is extinct, and New Vegas is what left.
"I don't know what century your from, but there is no Las Vegas, only a New Vegas. Las Vegas has been dead for 200 years." Jack exclaimed. "and this is no New Vegas.....every thing is too....pristine"

"I don't know what century your from, but there is no Las Vegas, only a New Vegas. Las Vegas has been dead for 200 years. And this is no New Vegas.....every thing is too....pristine." Vladimir would have sighed if the whole situation was not quickly turning sour, far too quickly for his liking. He raised a hand in a calm motion before continuing on, trying very hard to keep his voice and posture also calm.

"I can assure you, friend, that what everything you see around you is as real as the day and night. I must confess however, that I have not heard of a New Vegas, are you sure that you did not misunderstand someone? It is true some think that Vegas lost its allure in the 90's, but that is hardly 200 years, if anyone should know it would be I." He made a slow sweeping gesture back to the cafe, so as not to startle the man into doing anything rash. "Please, come sit down, allow me to buy you a coffee, help settle your nerves. Then you can tell me exactly what you mean by Las Vegas being dead." And hopefully also why you are wearing body armour straight out of some terrible survival film, he thought to himself.

Jack calmed down. He never snapped like that before, but this was weird as hell...Las Vegas? And what the hell is coffee? "What the hell is coffee? If its a drink, count me in because I need one badly right now....and what do you mean by the 90's?" Jack decided to go with him..."and what the hell is that accent?" Jack tried to stay calm....this man wasn't talking sense....but if your to gain info, follow the person with it.

Vladimir began making his way back to the cafe, trusting that the stranger was following- though it was easier to trust when he could hear the slowing of the mans heartbeat. ""What the hell is coffee?" In another time and place, an out of place comment might have made him turn, or at least raise an eyebrow in surprise and confusion, now he simply made a mental note of it.

Returning to his seat at the cafe, he found that his old cup had been removed and thankfully a passing waitress was close by, he quickly flagged her down and gave an order for two espressos, regular, to be served at the table- at the nearest convenience of course. "My accent? Truth be told I find it has changed somewhat from the accent of my people, but I come from a very, very far away land and its understandable that things change." With that he gestured to the seat opposite him. "Please, sit. The drinks are going to be a minute before they get here and I can tell that something isn't going in right for you. Now tell me, what exactly seems most out of place about this to you? Put it simply for me" He gave a warm half smile to reassure the man, it was clear that he was highly distressed about the whole situation he was in.

Jack sat down, shaking nervously. This building was wrong...it was to pristine, to clean.
Not good. The man asked "Now tell me, what exactly seems most out of place about this to you? Put it simply for me" Jack looked at him. He sighed to came his nerves. This was the most bizarre thing that happen to him since he was lobotomized. "Well...The strangest thing here is that I was in the Jefferson memorial ruins, in the Capital Wasteland, now im here, in Mohave wasteland, in a place what New Vegas dreams to be." Jack took a big, shaky breathe. "Not only that, I should be dead. The radiation from project purity should have killed me." Jack looked at the pipboy on his wrist...he had advance radiation sickness, but he'll live.

Lightning looks at this world around her, she thought it was weird that a city like this needs so many lights.
"What is this place?"
She looks at the people walking down the sidewalk. A woman is wearing shorts with a tank top, while the man is wearing shorts and a polo. "These outfits are atrocious. How are they going to protect themselves?" She mutters under her breath.
"I have much to learn of this city... and it's customs."
She approaches a woman. "Do you know where I am?" She looks back and starts to laugh. "You are one of those cosplayers right?" Lightning gives her a weird look. "What is a cosplayer?" She starts explaining. "You know people who dress up as people from movies, video games, stuff like that." Lightning finally asks. "I just need to know where I am." She responds with. "You are in Las Vegas."

Claptrap rolled down the busy sidewalks of Las Vegas, still filled with excitement he felt upon leaving Pandora to Earth.

He began to daydream to himself of what his plans are next. "Alright! Las Vegas" He chanted to himself in glee.

"Okay, Claptrap, you got 20,000 dollars on you, First off, I'll hit up the casino's and win big! Second, Maybe a hot smoking robot lady... And third! Uh.. Ooh! A snowglobe of Vegas to show my Minions where I've been!" Claptrap instructed himself.

In the midsts of his rambling, Claptrap walked into a formally clad man by accident. "Whoops.. Sorry bout' that.

@Nathan Steele

Xx420BLAZEITxX wrote:Claptrap rolled down the busy sidewalks of Las Vegas, still filled with excitement he felt upon leaving Pandora to Earth.

He began to daydream to himself of what his plans are next. "Alright! Las Vegas" He chanted to himself in glee.

"Okay, Claptrap, you got 20,000 dollars on you, First off, I'll hit up the casino's and win big! Second, Maybe a hot smoking robot lady... And third! Uh.. Ooh! A snowglobe of Vegas to show my Minions where I've been!" Claptrap instructed himself.

In the midsts of his rambling, Claptrap walked into a formally clad man by accident. "Whoops.. Sorry bout' that.

*As Jiro continued to walk down the sidewalk, he began to rethink why he was even sent here... To Vegas, to be more specific. Surely, his contractor named Bain, had an excellent reason why he sent him here. As Jiro continued to think up multiple reasons why Bain would send him here, his thoughts were interrupted, when a small robot bumped into him. The small fellow, was no more than three to four feet tall. Jiro raised an eyebrow, and said, "It is okay..." It seemed fairly obvious, that Jiro struggled with the English language. After all, he has only been in America for about a month, and he hasn't had the time, to learn the basics of the English language. He has picked up some words, here and there...but it's going to take some time to become more fluent, in such a different language.*

Tristana looked up at the man who had come between the two frisky drinkers with another burp, smirking and giggling as she leaned against him instead. Her tone shifted almost instantaneously, sounding in the mood to flirt. Three beers seemed to have done an impressive number of the Yordle.

"Hiiiiiiiiiiiiii~...heheheheh~...I don't care, I just wanna drink.~" she answered, with copious amounts of coy laughter, "You chooooooooooose.~"

@Major_D
@LunarPolymath

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Vacationing in Vegas was turning out to yield plenty more sights to see than Boss had previously expected. Not just the fancy lights, or the posh clubs, but the amount of oddjobs roaming the strip. Another one in particular caught his eye; a young man in a letterman jacket, and strangely enough, a rooster mask. He spoke to himself again, in the same fashion he had after noticing Jiro.

"I got another one for you Kaz. Something's off about this guy."

"Well, you'd be correct in saying so. He goes simply by the name of Jacket, and appears to suffer from a case of PTSD after taking part in something called 'The Hawaiian Conflict'."

"The Hawaiian Conflict?" interrupted Boss,

"You heard me right. The Soviets invaded Hawaii and were battling the US for control of it. The war broke out just a year before you awoke from your coma, and lasted about two years afterwards. Afghanistan wasn't the only territory they were fighting over at the time, Boss."

"I missed a lot during those nine years, didn't I?"

"A lot happens in nine years." Kaz answered plainly, "Anyway, Jacket returned to his home of Miami after the war, and he went nuclear. Every Russian he could find was sought out and killed mercilessly. Any buildings housing members of the Russian mob were reduced to slaughterhouses. Needless to say, he's on every police department's hit-list. Hell, he's even wanted for a number of heists. In fact, Jiro is one of his known partners."

"Is that so?"

"What are the odds, right? I think we might have a regular Diamond Dog on our hands Boss. With the right fixing up, and his thirst for Soviet blood, he could make for an excellent soldier. Problem is, he isn't known to talk much. When he was trialed for manslaughter, he remained in complete silence. Never pleaded innocent once. The strong, silent type he is."

Boss let out a chuckle, and grinned, "Sounds like Quiet."

Kaz returned his laughter on the either side, "If Quiet were an Uzi toting maniac, then yeah, I'd see the resemblance."

"I'll see what I can do Kaz."

"Roger. Be wary that he doesn't pull a weapon on you, firearm or otherwise. There's no telling what someone like him might do."

Boss strolled up beside the masked man with his cigar in hand, silently cutting his communications and casually leaning against the wall beside Jacket, lighting up a new cigar after discarding the previous. He made no move on Jacket...yet. He knew how to deal with the lethal type, and the lethal type generally enjoyed their space.\

@DapperDogman

The Prince of Darkness simply sat there and listened to what anyone would be in their rights to describe as the ramblings of a madman. However some things did not add up: the man had indeed only appeared as if from thin air, perhaps whatever this 'Project Purity' was, perhaps it had something to do with advanced teleportation, clearly something had gone wrong.

At this point the two cups of coffee had arrived. Vladimir inclined his head in thanks at the young waitress and waited until she had left before picking his cup up, taking a sip without letting cool down even a fraction, he almost enjoyed the scalding sensation as it burnt away the skin of his lips, tongue and throat only for them to heal a moment later due to his dark powers. "I'm afraid to say, you are indeed in the Mojave, though very much in Vegas. As I said before, to my knowledge there is no such thing as a New Vegas." A thought occurred then. "You say it has been 200 years? You are not aware that the date is 2015 my friend?"

Jacket took a moment to notice the man leaned on the wall near him, but he didn't react at first, instead of assuming it to be suspicious, he didn't consider himself the twitchy type, after all. Maybe once he was, but now, he didn't really think much of violence, or death, it was a daily occurrence for him

Sure, it wasn't always that way, there was a time where Jacket threw up, he'd just beaten a hobo to death in an alley, to ensure his contacts in 50 Blessings got hold of the briefcase he'd just stolen. He wasn't proud of throwing up, but it proved helpful, as the hobo was thought to have thrown up and hit his head, killing him, and clearing any suspicion about that particular death

The male slowly turned to Big Boss and cocked a brow, unsure of why he was still there, was he waiting for something, or someone

A hand reached into his jacket slowly, drawing a small grey tape recorder, clicking it a warped, distorted language learning tape clip played


His quizzical look, coupled with his silence, probably would have looked to anyone else, like he was either not a native English speaker, or had some form of speech impediment, or was outright mute, though Big Boss knew otherwise, the question remained

@The Smoking Peanut

Nathan Steele wrote:

Xx420BLAZEITxX wrote:Claptrap rolled down the busy sidewalks of Las Vegas, still filled with excitement he felt upon leaving Pandora to Earth.

He began to daydream to himself of what his plans are next. "Alright! Las Vegas" He chanted to himself in glee.

"Okay, Claptrap, you got 20,000 dollars on you, First off, I'll hit up the casino's and win big! Second, Maybe a hot smoking robot lady... And third! Uh.. Ooh! A snowglobe of Vegas to show my Minions where I've been!" Claptrap instructed himself.

In the midsts of his rambling, Claptrap walked into a formally clad man by accident. "Whoops.. Sorry bout' that.

*As Jiro continued to walk down the sidewalk, he began to rethink why he was even sent here... To Vegas, to be more specific. Surely, his contractor named Bain, had an excellent reason why he sent him here. As Jiro continued to think up multiple reasons why Bain would send him here, his thoughts were interrupted, when a small robot bumped into him. The small fellow, was no more than three to four feet tall. Jiro raised an eyebrow, and said, "It is okay..." It seemed fairly obvious, that Jiro struggled with the English language. After all, he has only been in America for about a month, and he hasn't had the time, to learn the basics of the English language. He has picked up some words, here and there...but it's going to take some time to become more fluent, in such a different language.*

As Claptrap was about to walk past the man, He had noticed that his little collision had shaken off a little rust off Claptrap onto the man's possibly overpriced suit.

"Whoops, got a little left-over rust on your suit there... Lemme just get that for you." He said with a nervous chuckle before awkwardly attempting to wipe the rust off but instead smears the rust, Creating more of a bigger stain then before.

@Nathan Steele