Ain't that a Kick in the Head?

[tokyobiohazard]

Axelle rushed to Vlad and stood between him and the railing. Her nosebleed had stopped by now, and she looked at Vlad with concern. "Just hang on... Let's see how bad that wound really is." Edited June 23, 2012 by tokyobleach

[boneless1]

Vlad felt dizzy, sick almost he shook his head and said. "I'm fine..i am fine, wait" he holds his head for a moment, then says "maybe I am a bit hurt." A false grin took his face, seeing the humor of his persistent numbness rather blocked the pain till now. He would rather specify where the injury specifically is though, he cant remember.

He rubs the bandage and only feels the moistness of the cloth. He sighs with disapproval to his previous actions, not seeing the doctor before he was going to get drunk.

Though he didn't much care for it at the moment.

 

He watches the suited man walk off with angered to his step, his shoulders broad and his hands in the form of fists. He looks to Sandro with a little grin.

"I wouldn't mess with that one, he is a tough son of uh." Vlad sighs. "Maybe you do, im not sure..but if he would have stepped up his game. I would have been a dead man."

[Flipout6]

Versing was running again. It was more than a jog, but less than a sprint. His assasins couldn't be any more than about two days out. Still, he had to admit, it was better to have seven of Caesar's best after him when he was well outside of Legion territory. Versing had a good idea of where he was. If he was right, he was so far from his home in Shady Sands, it would take days to reach there even in a Vertibird, and the only person he knew that had one of those was the president of the NCR, who certainly wouldn't lend it to a lowly Master Corporal. With these cheerful thoughts in mind, Versing ran on, each step putting one extra meter or so between him and the Legion's finest. There was no way his ruined NCR breastplate would stop a .45-70 from a Brush gun.

 

Versing noticed as he ran over a hill that there seemed to be a small pre-war town nearby, and a school. There also seemed to be a massive hunk of metal for whatever reason, just sitting there outside the town limits. Running towards the school, he took cover in a sheltered area and gasped for breath. He didn't know how, but he would have to kill his pursuers, soon. They had him running ragged, he'd been on the road for months. He'd left the NCR just after the battle of Hoover Dam. That was expert tactic, luring the Legion into Boulder City like that. He found it almost funny when crimson uniforms turned into orange explosions. Still, that had been months ago, now. He gripped his service rifle tightly to his chest, checked the magazine, and got up. It didn't take him long once he got into the school to find what he desperately needed: ammo.

 

The mangled and shot-up remains of some raiders were scattered about. One of them had a 10mm pistol still on them, with some rounds. For Versing, that wouldn't do much. He could sell the pistol and bullets to get some money, which he could really use, and besides, he was far more used to the lighter grip of his 9mm sidearm. The five thousand caps from his long, decorated service with the NCR military had lasted him quite a long while, especially when he scavenged everything he could, but now he was left with about 63 caps. That would get him enough food and water to last him a few days without any lake water to drink from, but from then on he would be finished. He snatched up the pistol and every round of ammo he could find, along with the raider's lead pipe, and moved on to the next one. This one was wearing a durable vest, which could definitely patch up some of the damage in his armor and uniform. He also found (Jackpot!) some .556 rounds and caps. Whoever may have previously searched this body hadn't found everything. He was running quite low on .556 rounds from getting into so many firefights with raiders. Unfortunately, the assault rifle those rounds were probably used with were gone.

 

After a quick poke around, (which revealed a fresh bloodstain on the stairs.) Versing walked back outside and once again began to run. He figured he would check out that hunk of metal on the distance.

[BaldurAnthology]

Greebo, cheerful as ever, says, "Perhaps you would like me to take a look now? Or would getting you to the doctor be a better option?"

 

Sandro moves out of suit's way, spitting on the ground as he does so. "Well? Move along, smoothskin."

 

Chips growls at the two legs bad man.

[boneless1]

Vlad looks to Greebo with a rather calm look, pondering what to do. He goes through his pockets searching for his collection of caps, after a moment from rifling through them he begins to count in silence. Then looking to his ghoulish acquaintance he nods "To the docs I guess, thanks for 'elpin me out by the way." He then tries to walk on his own but leans on the railing, his head aching with great pain. "It's not common for folks to help me, I appreciate it, the names Vladimir."

[vathelis]

Kira looked to Ygg and nodded, then began to search through her backpack, pulling out a somewhat large stack of NCR money.

"This is the only currency I have on me. I guess they don't take it here, but I've found some of the caps they seem to like this far east. Even got one from a Sarsaparilla bottle with a blue star on it. I decided to keep that one though, cause I've only ever seen one of them. Got it while I was passing through the Mojave a while back. I have some from the soda they have around here though, but not many."

Kira looks over the city, apparently searching for something, but seemingly not finding her target.

"I wonder where Al wandered off to..."

Edited June 23, 2012 by vathelis

[BaldurAnthology]

Greebo smiles. "Why wouldn't I help you old boy? Can't have you bleeding out on the streets of Megaton, now can I?" He says, ever cheerfully. "I can get you to the doc's, no problem. Jump onto my back and hold on!"

 

Sandro goes inside Moriarty's with Axelle in tow. He grabs a drink at the bar, and heads to a chair out of the way, in the side area. Axellle takes the chair across from him.

 

Chips goes inside the saloon, and sits next to Axelle.

[boneless1]

Vlad felt off about the idea of hopping onto a ghouls back, though none the less he did it. He knew he wouldn't make it down walking, so as he did he felt the impulse to say. "To the Docs place!" He said quite cheerfully but though he did not feel very cheerful. For he felt the throbbing as if a hammer struck an anvil. His head beating like his heart beat but with tremendous force. He thought of the suited man, his illusive self traveling to the dark pit of hell he rightly belongs informing his boss that he will begin the pursuit tomorrow. Vlad knew full and well that it was impossible to pay such a escalating debt. Due to some events that happen some time ago the debt fell right on his lap, since he is the next in line by his father.

 

A travesty truly though he confronted them about this idiocy of the debt, though that only got him a broken nose and a busted eye. And Vlad began to fear them, since the day he was beaten down by those bastards, it happened a few times; Vlad would reach the pinnacle of going berserk. A sad fate, Vlad knew that tomorrow he would have to leave.

[BaldurAnthology]

"Right then, old bean! Hold on tight, you don't have much time with an injury that bad, so I am going to have to do some parkour, Hold on!"

Greebo steps back, and runs towards the railing, vaults over, and drops 30 feet before landing, injuring his ankle, but not badly enough that he couldn't walk. he ran a limping run towards the doc, and by the time they had got there, his ankle was killing him. He injects a stimpack into it to heal it, and says, "Right my boy, here we are. Tell the nice man what's wrong."

 

Sandro drank in silence.

[boneless1]

Vlad sits himself down onto a seat that is to the left of the entrance, when entering he see's a few patients lying in bed. Their groans can be heard and the moans quite audible, both filled with pain and sickness. Vlad sniffed the air, he has always had some dislike for a medical clinic of sorts. The unique smell you would whiff as you enter the clinic, the stench of sickness and soon to be dead men. Vlad looks over to the other room, Doc Church can be heard speaking to a patient; a male, his skin pale and his eyes deep with concern.

 

Vlad could clearly assume that the man was informed of something discouraging, as the sick pale man looked to his feet and buried his ace in his hands. Almost weeping. Doc simply pats the mans shoulder as he stands and turns, approaching Greebo and Vlad.

 

"Vlad, another bar fight there." Doc Church said with a sarcastic tone. Vlad replied.

 

"That was a long time ago Doc, and no I got a head injury for being..clumsy." Vlad points to his forehead which is wrapped in damp bloodied bandage.

Doc Church's expression turns into a rather unpleasant and distorted look. Then he lets out a sigh and nods, "I'll get that fixed up in a moment, I assume you have the money to pay for it Vlad?" Vlad nodded as he pats the right pocket of his cargo pants, the jingle of caps can be heard and a grin upon Vlad's bearded face.

 

Doc Church looks to Greebo, and asks. "And how are you doing, need anything checked?"

 

As Doc church asked his question, Vlad's mind was in a state of deep thought. Vlad was more or less evaluating his full situation, he would rather be sitting with a good drink in his hand and ladies on his mind but he cannot help but to think of his current situation. He disliked his rather obscure patterns of trouble, plainly put Vlad admitted that he was one for trouble. Not to ask of it but to attract it, was it his luck? He did not know, he knew that the pleasantries of life and the formalities of socially conversing would soon be over. Vlad did not like the mere thought of the idea but it was the truth, no possible way to hide it from himself.