Forums » Sci-Fi Roleplay » The Abolitionists (Fallout Roleplay)(Delete)

Outside on the outskirts of D.C., stood the last beacon of hope. A symbol of freedom for those who wished to pursue it. In such a dark world, when things seemed at its darkest and worst, hope arises. The symbol was once known all throughout the world as those to look up to. Now, it is nothing more than an ancient relic from its past, trying to make a return to the future of today. Long ago, it was looked to as a symbol of a freed nation for one and all. Now, in today's cold world, it has resorted back to it's roots of "Survival of the Fittest" that nobody is looking for a united nation, but into separate ones. However, even in such times, there are those that still seek out sanctuary from the evils of the world: Raiders, Slavers, Super Mutants, and the like. Of course, there are those that are skeptical of such a thing, but there is nothing wrong with hope. There is nothing wrong in wishing for a better life. This symbol of freedom had taken time into being rebuilt, and it has turned into a refugee camp for travelers and traders alike. There was their own symbol flying high over the refugee camp. It was a brown emblem with a white silhouette of Lincoln's head to the side. This symbol was used on everything from uniform bands to flags. They even had their own system of hidden language for out in the field. Although, with such tranquilizes, there was also their share of problems too: Raids.

Every so often, their refugee camp would come to a surprise raid, especially by Slavers who were looking to take them back to a rebuilt Paradise Falls, or even a rebuilt Pitt too. Anywhere that was in need of working people, and exploit them for their gain. Although, they had the typical raid from Raiders and Super Mutants too. Sometimes these raids would go from a few minutes to even a few hours. Causalities would be taken, but not much so on the opposite end of the camp. Sure, they were lightly armed with light weapons, typically from whatever they can scavenge from the raids, but they had advantages: they were on higher ground, a river was infront of them, had frag mines laid out with traps laid on the sides and back ways. Along the outer perimeter of the camp was sandbags stacked up waist-high. Even on parts of the upper stairs had sandbags too. Hell, even in a messed-up twisted way, they would use dead bodies to stack on as makeshift sandbags. In the outer courtyard of the camp was pitched-tents, typically used for like field medics or field barrack tents, with ten beds, cloth sides, and a tin roof with a tin door. Attached to the concrete building of the camp a maintenance room turned into a makeshift storage room for weapons, clothing, and food. Then there was the main atrium of the facility. Stood there in its massive state was Abraham Lincoln: the beacon of hope. All around him was beds for those that stayed and guarded their camp, as well as ham radios for communicating to the outside of the Wasteland.

~Current Event~

"Everyone! Push them back! Hold the line!"

"Ahhh punny humans! Die! Die!"

"Sir, they're not stopping!"

"We cant lose this spot!"

A raid was occurring infront of the camp. Inside of the camp, there might have been 20 Slaves, all spread out so thin. Infront of them was a raid of Super Mutants at their front door, shooting at each other with mainly hunting rifles. A couple of those mindless bastards had a couple of assault rifles, but since it was a raiding group, there must have been 10 or 15. These slaves had light weapons. Typically whatever a Raider, Slaver, or Super Mutant would carry: pipe weapons, hunting rifles, sawed-off shotguns, 10mm pistols, assault rifles. Just all small light armaments. Each person on those stairs, or in the front, had weapons of all variety. They were all fighting their hardest. Explosions could be heard coming from behind the sandbags as some of the Super Mutants, ones that were armed with Nail Boards, had charged in to sacrifice themselves. The mines were getting thin too. Those defending the camp continued fighting on. Their ammunition was dwindling down. They knew they had to finish their fight soon before they wound up falling back. The smell of smoke and gunpowder filled the air as bullets were flying everywhere. Hitting dead bodies, hitting sandbags, even killing or wounding other freed slaves. Eventually, the rest of the minefield had killed what was left of the Super Mutants. They were now completely exposed. Gunfire had stopped, but the smell of smoke and blood filled the air.

Everyone was still on guard when they came out from behind the sandbags, even the male did too. The male was at the front of the whole ordeal, so he was right by the entrance of the camp. He was holding onto a sawed-off shotgun, since he was closest to the Super Mutants. He looked around outside and seen the devastation of it all. Dead Super Mutants scattered everywhere with numerous holes all over the place from the mines. One of the slaves ran up to him and spoke "Sir, we have 5 wounded and 2 dead." He sighed heavily as he spoke to them "Go see what you can do... I'll reply the message, see if we can get help..." He stared out into the field as he thought to himself "How much longer must this go on...? I dont know how long we can hold this..." He began to make his way up the marble steps, walking passed by everyone that was scurrying around, going to wherever it is that they were going. Eventually, he made it to the atrium , staring up at Abraham Lincoln. He stared up at him and spoke "Sir... What can we do...? Our numbers are waning fast, and we don't have enough people to help... We've tried to free more to join our cause, but it seems like we're all mice trapped in one spot..." Silence was all he had gotten. He sighed heavily before he walked over to the radio and sat down in the chair. Turning it on and adjusting its knobs, he had finally gotten a signal. Staring at it for a moment, he sighed and pressed down onto the button, beginning to speak again.

"To those who can hear me, I say - do not despair. The misery that is now upon us is but the passing of greed - the bitterness of men who fear the way of human progress. The hate of men will pass, and dictators die, and the power they took from the people will return to the people. And so long as men die, liberty will never perish. Please.. We are in need of help. Our supplies are running low, our brethern and sisters are wounded, and the raids will not stop. Anyone who can hear this, we are The Abolitionists, and we are in need of help..."

This sounds pretty badass, and i would love to rp this with you if you are still opened.

Sure. We can discuss it if you like before we start.

Ok, where do you think we should start?

Send me a PM and we can discuss it there.