Jack the Ripper

Throne Room

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Lucky gave a cocky salute...

"You got it sir...actually before we go do you have a second...i came across this while fighting..."

Lucky would show him the map of slaver bases...

"I've come across this scum before...they are slavers and rapists...but they usually have good loot...ive taken a whole group down by myself so i know with a little help from my  pack there isn't anything they could throw at us to stop us...they are just waiting to be attacked and they are not allegianced with anyone...just a mercenary group of slavers selling to the highest bidder...good loot and additional slaves possibly...could be a good haul if the leadership would allow us..."

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Feral nodded her understanding to Reaver, then motioned to her two companions to follow her as she said to them, "Lets unload the Fatmen and mini-nukes and head to the barracks men."

As she and they did so on the floor next to Reaver, Feral nodded again her farewell first to Reaver and then the bartender, then as they left the Throne Room and the door was safely closed, Feral exclaimed with girlish glee, "I can't believe that went sooo well! Guys, we're on our way to the top."

 

((//OOC: Follow Feral's adventures in the Baracks))

Edited by T. A. Murrow

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Reaver leaned forward and looked at the map, studying it with a critical eye.

"Some of these bases are situated in our territory.... and by the looks of things, they're well hidden enough to escape out eye. Jack will want these cleared out, but I'll have to take it up with him first, see if there is anything specific he'd want done."

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Inga pushes the big doors open to the Throne Room, she finds a suitable spot in the corner and lowers her rear onto the floor, placing her Broadsword beside her, she has a light frown onto her face whilest she observes the people around her.

 

She would follow the lot towards the barracks.

Edited by Alma Wade

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Mackenzie holds his side. “Oi missy I just didn’t want her to be lonely, get your big brain out of the gutter.” He says playfully blushing. 

While everyone spoke Mackenzie cleared his face and stayed silent. Then leaves with everyone.

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Feral swaggers confidently into the Throne Room like she owns it but goes over to the corner of the bar she usually waits at, nodding greetings to the bartender as she glances nonchalantly around to see which of Scourge Leadership is around. Unless Jack had made her a Scourge Leader, which she highly doubts and since last night's "period" debacle was not sure was she ready for anyways, the young pack leader figures the Pack answered directly to Sledge, Reaver, or Jack himself.

Feral would love it to be Jack since he was her personal god and her long-term goal was to be his Angel of Death, but knew that she and her Pack were probably still far beneath his notice. Sledge, his second in command, had been who they took their orders from when Yetti was pack leader and she didn't mind him but he hated Mackenzie with a vengeance and that could cause problems for the pack in the future if they stayed under his control. Personally, the adolescent Raider liked Reaver as the best to supervise them because he took her seriously even though she was only thirteen and he seemed to be the most laid back of Scourge leadership which she found appealing.

Feral waited patiently to be addressed by whoever in Scourge Leadership was now giving the Pack orders, promising that whoever it was, she would make sure that it would be a successful relationship.

Edited by T. A. Murrow

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Jack sat in his Throne, his armor covered in enough blood so that it was more red than black. The Scourge leaders sat at their own table across from the bar, watching Jack with nervous eyes. Big Mike lay on the floor between them, unconscious, with a bloody gash on the side of his head.

The Bone Carver was at Jacks side, working hurriedly with a drill to unbolt the armor around his right arm, where the snapped off end of a spear was firmly lodged. She muttered quietly to him, and Jack glared across the room, growling and cursing under his breath from the pain of his wound, but keeping himself quiet and still enough so it would not show.

His large cleaver was leaned against the left side of the Throne, his hand wrapped around its handle, obviously ready to use it if anyone dared approach him.

His helmeted head turned, its eyes focused now on Feral and Inga, his grip on the weapon tightening somewhat. The Bone Carver paused in her work to glance over her shoulder at them. Her eyes narrowed before she resumed working at the bolts of Jacks power armor.

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Unintended, Feral s own brown doe-like eyes grew wide as her eyebrows shot up high when the two looked at her as she thought to herself, "FUCK-FUCK-FUCK! What have I done now?!?!"

The preteen Raider didn't like the body language emanating from Jack and the Bone Carver. On Jack's part, it could because of the pain although it disturbed Feral to no end that her god could feel such pain. The tenseness of the situation could easily explain the Bone Carver's reaction to the adolescent Raider's presence as well. Feral forced the bile trying to push up her throat back down. She had done no wrong that she could see, only good. Feral had commanded her team, and they had taken down the enemy's artillery in an efficient and effective manner, saving countless Scourge soldiers and maybe even the Scourge home, the Scrapyard itself.

Feral forced her face to go impassive moving a few steps from the bar to stand tall as her short stature would allow. She took a confident pose with her small hands on her hips. Feral hoped her body language showed a willingness to come forward if either Jack or the Bone Carver beckoned - whether it be to help or to be punished by them.

Edited by T. A. Murrow

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Mackenzie follows Feral to the throne room, then is appalled by the sight he sees before him. He is taken back by Feral trying her best to seem impassive, it was impressive to say the least. Mackenzie follows her from the bar and stands by her, ready and willing to take the same punishment as Feral or take the attention away from her. 

Mackenzie avoids eye contact with Jack and the Bone Carver looking at the feet of the throne.

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A wicked smile crosses Feral's cherubic face as she has a sudden idea and turns to Inga and Mackenzie asking in a whisper, "Do either of you have a first aid kit?" Then not waiting for an answer steps back to the bar asking the bartender, "Hey, you got a first aid kit back behind that bar? if so, hand it too me and make it fucking fast!"

Edited by T. A. Murrow

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The bartender quickly hands Feral a small white box clearly labeled "first aid." Grabbing it with a mumbled, "Thanks," Feral takes the first aid kit and the healing powder bag given her by Inga, only pausing to squeeze Inga's hand briefly as she does before moving forward. Feral walks slowly forward, face impassive but when she is halfway from the bar to Jack in his throne falls to one knee holding the kit and bag in front of her with her eyes downcast. The adolescent Raider slowly raises her brown doe-like eyes to look at Jack and the Bone Carver awaiting their response to her proffered aid.

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Inga squeezes Feral's hand, and gives her a nod as she looks into her eyes before letting her hand go, watching how the young girl is kneeling infront Jack like a knight.
One of Inga's flashback occurs, seeing herself kneeling infront Jarl Coriolis after she slayed two members of the rival tribes. Inga snaps back into reality and looks upon Feral and the others, keeping an eye out.

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Lucky heard some commotion and silently followed bottle in hand behind his crew he was diverted by the sight of his bottle of whiskey getting low...instead of walking straight in he made a beeline to the crappy store front he had been to only once before...he bought two more bottles of the good stuff and then made his way to the throne room...once there he placed a bottle in his bag and used the other to pour himself a drink...then he watched the commotion happen from a far...if they needed to clean the wound...he would offer some of his whiskey...if not than he would stay silent...he was no doctor after all...until then he would keep enjoying his drink

Edited by ALilTooStrange

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The Bone Carver finally wriggles the upper arm piece free from Jack, causing the end of the spear to jerk and Jack to snarl harshly. Instinctively, he draws his shotgun with his free arm and aims it directly in front of him, not caring whom he is aiming at.

"All of you have three seconds to exit this room." He growls, his voice sounding as if on the verge of loosing his temper.

"Three......"

The Bone Carver is far less forgiving. She pulls out her knife and flips it so that she is holding it by the blade. With her foot, she kicks Feral square in the face, and at the same time, throws the knife with impressive aim and skill, straight at Inga, the weapon revolving thrice before burying itself right in the womans raised palm.

"Get the FUCK OUT." She snaps, as all the Scourge leaders stand and draw their weapons. "And don't EVER think you can come in here like that again."

Jack slowly lowers his shotgun, keeping the weapon ready on his lap.

"Two...." He continues, tapping the handle of his weapon with a single finger.

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Feral wipes the blood from her lip while placing the first aid box and healing bag within reach of the Bone Carver, then calmly stands up gesturing to the Pack for them to follow her out of the Throne room. The preteen stares impassively at Jack and the Bone Carver as she holds open the door for the others as they file out. She then silently follows them.

Once outside the closed door, Feral quips with a wicked grin, "Well that didn't go well, did it? But at least Zie can get the Bone Carver's knife from Inga's hand and has an excuse for a rendezvous!"

Edited by T. A. Murrow

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Inga gets hit in her palm with the knife, she lowers it immediately as soon the knife pierces through her palm, wrapping her right palm around her left wrist whilest she looks down at her bleeding hand, Inga breathes in and out through her nostrils, they are able to hear it. Inga feels disrespected after offering help. A frown appears onto her face and tails both Feral and Lucky out of the Throne room. Inga is completely quiet, she jams the knife out of her palm with force, gripping it tightly, screaming out of anger she throws the knife right into door of the Throne room, Inga storms off and heads back to her cubicle to take care of her wounded hand.

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Watching Inga stalk off to the Barracks,  Feral frowns saying angrily, "You know, fuck them all! We'll go do our own mission. Lucky has that map of slaver camps in Scourge territory. I say what Reaver said about them gives us authorization to go clear them out. If nobody appreciates our efforts, well fuck them, we know we appreciate it! Let's go to the barracks and get ready for a road trip!"

((//OOC follow Feral back to the Barracks))

 

Edited by T. A. Murrow

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Mackenzie Leaves quietly wondering why he wasn’t hurt. 

“Oi Missy they have their reasons to why they wanted us out, we did barge in on them. Let’s just stay and lay low.” Mackenzie gently grabs her healed arm. “This was done out of mercy, I felt the REAL deal please don’t go off and do anything I know you might think I’m favoring Bone Carver over you. But I’m absolutely not I would rather go to the red corner than see you hurt again, let’s just lay low apologize, if you want pin the blame on me and move on.” Mackenzie says with concern and sincerity in his voice.

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Lucky downs his glass and nods to the barkeep before quietly making his exit...he then makes his way back to the barracks...as he walks he lights his cigarette and twirls the bottle of whiskey around in his hand...her spoke to himselves

"that was a crazy throw...carvers got mad skills"

"Yeah she does...stupid kid better be happy its just a busted lip and a cut hand..."

"Shes trouble...but maybe good trouble...cant tell yet..."

"Whatever she is i think ill keep my distance...all i know is the longer we wait..the higher the chances are that thoes slavers get wind of the reaper killing again..."

"I missed it...its some good fun aint it...revenge that is..."

"Not about fun...fun isnt something one considers when enacting justice...but yes...it was hard not to smile...even for me..."

"Ill do my best to get the others involved...the more we have the more we can kill...but...im not sure how hard it will be now...who knows...ill do my best though...charm hasnt failed me yet..."

"Except when it does...:

"Shut it..."

Lucky takes another long drag of his cigarette as he grows closer to his barracks thinking over his strategy

((//OOC follow Lucky back to the Barracks))

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Feral took a deep breath before heading through the large double doors into the Throne Room. The thirteen year old Raider looked resplendent in her freshly shined black metal armor, the Deathclaw's skull etched in red on her breast plate, with her black furred boots and her long brown hair looking like a short cape finishing the picture. The diminutive Pack leader looked like a knight of Arthur's round table -  or so her young mind thought remembering the fantastical stories her Teacher had told her of them when Feral was a child. However, the white bandages covering her upper head, her .44 in her western holster and machete sheathed on her back brought her image back to modern post-apocalyptic times.

When Feral entered the Throne Room, she took her usual position at the corner of the bar, glancing around the room and asking the bartender while she leaned on the counter towards him, "Is Jack in a good mood?"

Edited by T. A. Murrow

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