This is not an open RP, but thanks for your interest
October 11th, 2281 11PM
"...And that's all I have for you. This is Mr. New Vegas, wishing you ladylike luck tonight." The tune of "Johnny Guitar" started to play, the songs sweet, sad melody floating throughout the small encampment.
Joseph sat next to a dying, crackling campfire, in front of him was a wooden board with cards strewn out across it. A few others sat around the board as well, an intense poker game in progress. Close to 500 NCR dollars were in the middle, waiting to be won.
Joseph stood out from among the others, who were wearing body armor or more comfortable trail clothing. Joseph was wearing a full, tailored white suit with black stripes, as well as custom white shows with a black outline. "Alright Joe, you gonna call?" one of the caravan guards said to Joseph. He put his hand through his well styled, slick, black hair, before throwing down another 20$ NCR bill. "Yea, I'll call."
While this game raged on, one guard patrolled the outskirts of the camp, which was set up against some rocks in the southern Utah desert, 500 feet form the road they were travelling on.
All was quiet, except for suddenly, the three Brahmin, ugly, mutated, two headed cows, who had been carrying the caravans supplies, started to stir. They were tied to a post a little ways off from where the tents and campfire were set up, and their moos reached the campfire, mixing in with the sound of the radio.
Joseph looked over at the cows, his light blue eyes scanning for trouble. His handsome face briefly betrayed a sense of wariness. His attention then turned towards the watchman, who gave a thumbs up to him. Everything was quiet.