Wanted: Luke Blackwell [Luke Blackwell, Cassidy CLOSED]

Bullet Bill's shop was perhaps the busiest and undoubtedly the noisiest building in all Kaho’olawe. While not big itself it had a massive underground basement that had been excavated from the ground and was used as shooting gallery for the client and test ground for the new ammo and weapons that reached Bill's hands.

A robot entered on the shop, it was an Assaultron, a rare model who was most commonly found in the northeastern parts of the American mainland. Robots usually preferred energy weapons as they could reload them with their own life forces but this one was different, it looked more alive than most robots, more humane, yet still lacked that spark of humanity, it was halfway through being truly alive and being another apathetic machine. The robot wore a duster made from what looked like Cazaclaw leather and several pieces of metallic armor on top of his already metallic chassis, all decorated with bones and teeth strapped to his body by small ropes or leather straps. The machine also had very human looking hands instead of the usual triple fingered claw that they usually came with. Whoever it was, it distilled danger and respect from every inch of its body.

"Welcome to Bullet Bill's Ammo Store. What can I get you?" Said one of the shop workers from the other side of the counter.

"Special ammunition for my 10mm pistol. Something that can rip a human arm off." Answered the Assaultron with a heavily distorted and computer processed voice.

"Very well. I think we have something here for you..." Said the man as it opened a small case and showed the robot five golden bullets. "Bullets with a diamantine tip and a hollow core filled with a special coagulant that produces necrosis. If you shoot someone on the arm, it will rot and fall off in 3 minutes unless a stimpak is administered or the bullet is taken out. 200 caps each bullet."

The robot gladly paid for all five bullets and put them inside a magazine marked with a painted red cross.

"Mind I ask whats the bullet for?" Said the man happy with the transaction.

"Someone has something I need, a thing stuck to his body that he can either give me willingly or I will be forced to take from his body, either by killing him or taking his arm apart, whichever comes first."

The worker gulped and then showed his arms to the robot.

"Nothing on my arms, so...its not me right?"

The robot simply stood in silence for some seconds and then left the building without a word.

Luke followed the stragglers out of the crowded bar. It had been another unsuccessful night in finding work. Patience was a virtue Blackwell held highly, but even he was getting restless with his lack of clients. Still, he persisted, if work were to be found on this island, it would be in town.

He turned East, passing the rest of the depressing span of shacks and looted husks that the inhabitants passed off as homes. He'd managed to find a worn mattress, shielded from the worst of the environment by a faded billboard. Obscure and isolated, it had proved a decent place to gain the scant few hours of light sleep Blackwell was accustomed to.

Tired, but ever vigilant, he strode into the empty wastes beyond, a familiar prickle on the back of his neck warning that something was very, very, wrong.

As Cassidy left the Mutant Muscle, he had his guitar case in one hand, glancing about Kaheliki Town for where he had to go. His breathing quickened as he took more and more steps away from the bar, the smell of hard alcohol still under his breath. Walking down the dirt road until he reached the remains of an old world tank, he'd climb up on top of it and open the hatch, entering a temporary safehaven. Nothing was special in the tank beyond the basic protection from the elements, and the munitions had long been taken (or disposed of) by scavengers. The most it had was a small pile of cloth that was wrapped and tied by a torn shirt to act as a makeshift pillow, and a small lantern in terrible condition that provided him with a suitable amount of light.

Placing his guitar case against the wall, the young man went down on a knee and pulled away the straps keeping his backpack secure on his person, putting it in front of him on the ground to rummage through his items. He would mumble to himself, confident that he was safe in the interior of the ancient vehicle. Reaching in to his pack, he would pull out a single magazine and inspect it for how much ammunition it held. "This will be useful... not a bad bar. Might return there sometime. Twelve rounds." His internal dialogue was made apparent as he took inventory of what he had been given after resolving the potential bar fight.

"Stimpak..." He took a look at the needle, analyzing it for any contamination. Not finding anything wrong with the needle itself, regardless of his observations, he shook his head and placed it back in the bag. "Have to sterilize it if I get the chance." Cassidy looked through a small brown bag given to him by one of the bartenders, spilling it on to the cold metal floor and counting up the caps. "Thirty-five, I'll thank them later." Once he was done taking inventory of what he had gotten, he put the rest of the caps back in the brown bag and put it back in to his own backpack, before pulling out his makeshift gasmask. Holding it out in front of him, on its rusted metal surface, a faint engraving can be made out. "'Susie's Favorite'... I miss that girl." He spoke in a vulnerable manner, believing not a soul could hear him in this moment.

His eyes lingered on the inscription, before he turned it around and carefully put the gas mask on. After he was finished making sure the mask was secure, he closed up his yellow backpack and put it back on. Intent on leaving the tank, Cassidy would turn silent as he pushed open the rusty hatch and climbed out on to the top of the vehicle, closing the hatch behind him and carefully climbing down the side. Satisfied as his boots hit dirt, he would head further in to town, past the Mutant Muscle, and towards Bullet Bill's Ammo Store. The next hour would consist of him doing the post-war equivalent of window shopping, looking over the various types of ammunition that the store had for sale, along with the more exotic kinds he had not seen in California, before returning to his temporary abode in Kaheliki as a squatter.

Shortly after Cassidy left the tank the Robotic gunslinger came to it. She didn't want to steal any of the belongings that the Californian might have left behind but to recharge its batteries. Due to a centuries old fight it had a metallic fragment dangerously lodged on her nuclear core, this shrapnel made its body incredibly inefficient when it came to energy and also made her prone to overheating and violently spewing sparks. She had to find sources of energy to stay functioning just like flesh creatures needed to sleep.

Her life wasn't at risk, thanks to a favor she owed to a tinkerer, she was carrying with herself an umbrella with several solar plaques that was able to capture sunlight and turn it into electric energy. She could always rest somewhere in the open and let the device refill its energy reserves but that took several hours, time where her objectives might run away and she might be exposed to damage.

34STW00D was a sentient robot that way before the Great War was adapted with bionic arms to wield weapons and was used as a prototype against the Communist Forces. She was originally designed to seek out and eradicate communist traitors that might be hiding among American populations and she was so effective that she was even sent to China where her combat prowess was proved even further. Shortly before the Fall of the Bombs, a coward, an invisible Hēi guǐ wearing Crimson Dragoon armor managed to struck a nearly fatal blow on her chest, leading to the wound that made her energetically inefficient. She killed the Chinese Special Forces agent but required specialized mechanical assistance, a help that could only be found in America.

She was taken back to Hawaii and from her plane she managed to see the bombs fall, then how one by one the plane's engines started to fail and the entire thing crashed down into the ocean. Thankfully for her, the plane acted as a Faraday cage and she became unaffected by the Electromagnetic Pulse of the Bombs. Nonetheless, she entered into an emergency shutdown status and floated adrift for centuries, until somehow, the cage which she was stored in ended up on a shore. When she awakened the world was different, but her skills were still as useful as ever. She now roamed the wasteland searching for a place that might completely repair her...to no luck so far.

Unable to find any kind of power source on the Tank, the robot went outside and opened the umbrella, then sat down on top of the vehicle and went to sleep. She was contracted by a really rich adventurer who was searching for a Pip-Boy 3000, these things clamp onto your body with a bio-metric lock and won't go out unless the user wants it, or its arm is completely separated from their body. The robot has heard that a Pip-Boy model might be around here. Hopefully the clues will be true...

Cassidy found himself staring straight at an unusual combat unit upon arriving at the old pre-war tank he was utilizing as a temporary residence. His eyes looked over the robot from below where it was seated, drawn to the human-like hands and the expensive leather duster. With a curious eye on the anomaly, he ended up climbing up on top of the tank and sat down a few feet away from the unit. Having a closer look at it while remaining a respectable distance, he couldn't help but note how intimidating it was. To him, it appeared to have a desire for collecting trophies off of its difficult targets, ranging from the variety of bones and teeth on display for all to see.

Lifting himself up, he'd take a few steps over to the hatch leading further in to the tank, checking on his guitar. Seeing that everything was in order and feeling the exhaustion set in, he took one last look at the combat unit and opted to leave it alone, figuring that he should show as much respect to the bot as it showed to him, not doing as it wished with his possessions. Lowering himself down to the interior, he closed the hatch and took off his gas mask, placing it next to the fading lantern. Cassidy rifled through his backpack one more time to take out his N99, flicking off the safety and placing it underneath his makeshift pillow. Laying his head down, blowing the flame out of the lantern, he closed his eyes and attempted to sleep.

The next day everything on the island ran smoothly. There was a good and pleasant weather and temperature, pirates or or raiders didn't invade and attack the island and most important of all, none of the many abandoned bombs that could be found around suddenly exploded.

Hours went by, people worked, people rested, people fucked, people got drunk, the usual. Night came soon and early, and just by that time 34STW00D's energy reserves were complete.

The robot stood up and with a very humanlike expression stretched her nonexisting muscles. She then looked around and at herself to see if anything was missing or if she had been damaged. Happy with knowing that once more the leather duster had worked and that no one had dared to touch her she prepared to walk towards the Mutant Muscle. Right now she didn't knew much about the people who wandered the island and who could be the one with a Pip-Boy on its possession and bars and other recreational areas were the best place to find people and gather information.

If she wasn't lucky...well at least she could release her frustration with this islands population. There were around 300 people on this wretched rock. If she found a steady power source she could fight and kill them all in...according to her calculations about a week of endless killing spree. Let's hope for them that she doesn't has to reach such a point.

Luke exited the bar, double, triple, and quadruple checking his supplies and condition. His Pip-Boy was fastened at his waist, its biometric lock providing some of the best data security in the wastes. His armor was anchored as much as possible, its careful construction maximizing mobility. His shoes were tightly laced, his belt secure, and, most importantly, his pistol was fastened in its holster, loaded and freshly polished.

He'd long since exhausted even the tiniest of business prospects at the bar. Hopefully the local Arms Dealers could provide some coin. With an air of caution, he strode away from the establishment, weaving through a small crowd of drunks to reach the desolate street beyond.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but that low sense of danger was still pricking at the back of his neck.

With the bar behind him, he cautiously continues down the street, the path empty in the

The traveling musician woke up to the haunting sound of silence, his eyes remaining closed for two minutes as he tried to pick up any noise from his surroundings. Satisfied as the silence remained unbroken, he opened his eyes and got to work. Sweat stained his shirt underneath his parka, he had a case of dry mouth, and his stomach grumbled, reminding him that he had to eat a meal. Lifting his head up from the poor pillow he managed to make for himself, he reached out with a hand and turned the lantern on. He sat upright for a couple minutes, gathering his resolve for the coming day.

Cassidy brought his hand up in front of his face, looking at it for any changes in his anxiety. As with every time he did this ritual, he found his fingers to be shaking almost uncontrollably. His hand quickly balled in to a fist upon finding nothing had changed for the better, before he let out a sigh and held back his anger. The man stretched his arm out to his yellow backpack, bringing it closer and opening it to try to find his mask. "No... no, no no." He muttered under his breath, panic sneaking in under his raspy tone. "Where is it?" He asked himself, in an attempt to jog his memory, before he noticed the gas mask right by the lantern. "Figures." He put the mask on, the anonymity it provided giving him some measure of comfort.

The musician looked over at his instrument, a small smile coming to his face, before he closed his backpack and put it on his back, picking up the metal case for his guitar by hand instead of doing the same thing as with his backpack. He took his N99 and stored it away, before he carefully opened the hatch and left the tank, lifting the case out on its own. Cassidy found himself shocked to have found that he slept through much of the day, the uncaring night sky prompting him to shake his head once he made the realization. Looking over to the Mutant Muscle down the street, he got down from the tank and made his way there, his head and back killing him from what he drank, and where he slept.

The female robot woke up happy from being able to spend all night untouched, but today her impatience was on its lowest. 34STW00D didn't knew for sure if she had a true personality, perhaps she had grown one after centuries of experiences, perhaps she always had one inside of her code, perhaps it was all a big messy glitch. Whatever the reason she was now extremely impatient and angry because her search for a Pip-Boy had lasted way too long.

After unplugging herself from the sun catching umbrella she grabbed her personally engraved 10 mm gun and loaded a regular magazine inside of it.

If she doesn't go to the mountain, then the mountain will come to her. With the weapon readied she walked towards the center of the settlement and with a swift movement grabbed a kid from the nape and quickly discharged several bullets on the air, almost emptying the magazine but reserving one for the kid's cranium.

"I'm looking for a Pip-Boy, if any of you lowlifes don't know what it is it's a small computer, locked to your forearm. I've heard that there is one in here and I won't hesitate to blow this kid's head off or any of your heads until I find it. Everybody come and show me your arms...now!"