The REALLY Wild Wasteland. (The Fallout RP!)

 Pages PREV 1 . . . 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 . . . 49 NEXT
 

"So any idea where we're headed now?" he said, "And seriously, does anyone know what the deal is with those ghouls?"

Sylph looked up from where she was sitting, her huggle with Mister Johnny Shakes having passed it was back to the matter of the shiny pile of swag on the floor or rather the shiny pile of swag on the floor and the contents of the blue haired girl's knapsack on the floor next to the shiny pile of swag.

"Mister Caravan Man was gonna take Miss Meryl Barrel and me to Megaton! I never ever been there, have you, Mister Johnny Shakes? Is it true that they call it Megaton because stuff weighs more there? Is it true they've got a petting zoo there? Is it true that there's a church that has its congregation drink the glowing green water that's been sitting next to a unsploded bomb?" The red ribboned girl asked in a rapid fire manner as she discarded a few dozen 10mm bullets from her knapsack and added the stuff that could be classifed as "other", the .223 ammo and a few hair pins to her knapsack pile.

Looking back at Mister Johnny Shakes, Missus Meryl Barrel and Mister Caravan Man, Sylph laughed at herself before exclaiming the obvious.

"That's so silly! There's no such thing as an unsploded bomb!" She smiled as she finished packing, a pile of 10mm ammo sitting in the open for Mister Johnny Shakes and a pile of .45 ammo for Missus Meryl Barrel.

Looking about, Sylph grinned as she saw a golf ball in the distance.

"I GOT IT! I GOT IT!"

Mr. Truant watched Sylph attack the pile of loot with gusto. When she started throwing out 10 mm rounds, he practically jumped on them and said, "Mind if I have these? No? Good, thanks."

He started gathering up the bullets into his satchel. The mentats finally kicked in, and he recalled the torrent of questions Sylph had asked him. He decided to answer them in reverse order.

"Yes, there is such a thing an 'unexploded' bomb," he began, taking a deep breath, "There's also a group of religious weirdos that worship the undetonated nuclear warhead in the middle of their town square. I never saw them drinking glowing water, but then again... I kept my distance from them. I tend to avoid religious nutjobs every chance I get... they have an annoying tendency to try and kill you over the dumbest things. I don't remember seeing a petting zoo anywhere in town. Never heard that one before. And yes, I've been there, was just about to head back there."

He paused, if only to make that last deluge of answers a little more bearable on the reader.

"I was just headed back there, actually," he said, "I came to minefield to do a little experiment for some... Moira Brown Junior the third or something like that. Apparently her great-grandmother wrote a book... and the new Moira wants to write a new edition of it. Something about seeing if mines could still be disarmed after all these years. Ugh... not helping her out anymore that's for damn sure. She never said anything about insane ghouls."

In one fluid motion, he took out another hit of Jet, inhaled it, and threw the small canister aside.

As Slyph's motor mouth went into over-drive, Beryl tried to remain patient. There is only so much stress you can take, and Beryl's patience levels were belt buckle high. If one listened carefully, you could hear the sound of ulcers bursting in her gut. Beryl's eyebrow twitched, but she managed to keep her cool as Johnny indulged little miss ribbons' queries.

She silently took the ammo that Sylph had offered, which had the effect of reminding her why it was important to keep someone young and able-bodied around.

..."I GOT IT! I GOT IT!"

"I-I'd leave it!" shouted Beryl, hastily. "I've got all the golf balls I need for now."

She did not wanting a repeat of what had happened last time Sylph went retrieving.

She guided the two back to the caravan. The Caravan Master gave Beryl a slimy salutation. Beryl gave the Caravan Master the finger.

"Let's get out of here," she said, looking over the burning trail of destruction the three of them had left behind.

"I get to say that!"

[OOC: Let's get this over with soon, so as to give FalloutJack a chance to finish his write up.]

Much to Missus Meryl Barrel's probable and palpable relief, nothing quite so dramatic occurred this time around. In fact one could say that the Red Dressed Girl's quest to seek out additional Mister Golf balls was a rather boring save for what would be the inevitable heart attacks that would occur when Sylph returned with her prizes.

Prizes?

Yes! Prizes indeed since it wasn't just Mister Golf Balls that our girl with eyes the color of blue skies of a bygone era brought back, she brought back some friends with the Mister Golf Balls in the form of Missy Miss Landmines!

"Heeeeeeey! Mister Johnny Shakes! Missus Meryl Barrel! Mister Caravan Man! Wait for meeee!!!" She said as she ran towards them with an armload of Mister Golf Balls and company, her pony tails fluttering like some sort of divining rod towards danger. It took the girl a few more minutes of running, dropping Mister Golf Balls, picking up dropped Mister Golf Balls, running some more, dropping Missy Miss Landmine, picking up dropped Missy Miss Landmine and running even more before she reached the caravan, and somehow dropping the whole entire armload of brownish white balls and landmines on the ground without a splosion.

Looking at the trio of traveling companions, Sylph smiled as she picked up the Missy Miss Landmines and tossed them into her Knapsack before handing the Mister Golf balls to Missus Meryl Barrel.

"There you go Missus Meryl Barrel! I found more Mister Golf Balls for you!" The girl said with an enthusiastic smile in an even more enthusiastic voice, walking next to the Brahmin mounted Missus Meryl Barrel.

"Are we there yet?" The ribbon haired girl asked as she started painting smiley smiley faces on the Missy Miss Landmines.

Beep...beeep...

"Oh shit," Johnny said as he impulsively grabbed Sylph's arms and jostled her enough to make her drop the explosives, "One of those is armed! Duck!"

He again grabbed Sylph and led her to cover behind a nearby rock.

Led? Led? Clearly something was going amiss in the translator because one would hardly call being tossed behind a pile of rubble and rock being led. But this is besides the point. Yes, semantics is besides the point here. What's important is the next series of events that would spell the end of the journey for one member of the caravan.

"Ow! Ow! Ow! Mister Johnny Shakes! My arm doesn't bend that way!" Sylph protested in her own cheery way as she was roughly shoved to the ground by Mister Johnny Shakes behind a patch of rubble that would have served as only minimal protection against the pile of Smiling Missy Miss Landmines that had been dropped in a Smile Pile.

There was a thud as the girl in red landed on the ground and a second thud as Mister Johnny Shakes hit the ground and a strange *ting ting ting* sound that bounced off the rocks near Mister Caravan Man's feet.

beep..........beep.........beep........

A slow timer wasn't it? But it was par for the course of odd luck that they have been experiencing that day.

"You can get off of my legs now, Johnny." Said a familiar voice to Johnny Truant as he laid there and realized that he was laying on top of Sylph's legs. Familiar but different in that the voice was no longer cheery, no longer airy, it was Sylph but different.

Not waiting for the man to get off of her legs, the girl displayed a increased amount of strength that belied her physical appearance and rolled him off of her as she got up.

beep.......beep......beep.....

From his view point, Mister Truant could only see the girl with the blue ponytails headed towards the pile of painted on smile landmines, look at the pile and select the very one that was beeping.

beep....beep...beep

It only took a moment for the girl in red to disarm the landmine and place toss it on the ground with a wince worth thud.

"Clear." Said the voice as she noticed that they were missing one person and one item of personal importance: The Caravan Master and Sylph's gemmed choker.


"Huff... huff... huff..." The Caravan Master huffed as he hoofed it through the last stretch that marked the outskirts of Minefield, smiling as he did so despite the fact that he was unsure why he didn't hear a distant explosion, nor feel the concussion from the blast that should have been rather large given the number of landmines the stupid-brat-in-red-but-thank-god-she's-fucking-dead-and-I-have-her-ruby-choker had brought back.

"Auugh!" The Caravan Master screamed as what must have been a piece of shrapnel pierced his leg, causing him to fall on the hot asphalt, his chin skin scraping against the rough, unfinished, blackened black surface. Shrapnel, yes, it must have been shrapnel but the explosion he had heard was too soft to be an explosion from a pile of stupid-smiley-face-painted-psychotic-looking-landmines. To him, it seemed more like the report from a .223.

What soon followed the .223's report was the crunching of gravel beneath combat boots and the sound of a large stone being dropped next to the Caravan Master's head and the sound of the edge of the rock being placed between the Caravan Master's teeth and the sound of a two quick kicks to the back of the Caravan Master's head and finally the clicking of the choker's clasp as Sylphee looked at Mister Caravan Man's body with cheery concern.

"Mister Caravan Man! Hey! Wake up! Mister Caravan Man? Hey! Hey! Hey! Wake up!"

Beryl had watched silently, keeping the fleshy bulk of a Brahmin between her and the noisy waif. She was perceptive enough to notice that the wretched Caravan Master had swiped the brat's choker, and was making off into the sunset with it.

What she hadn't perceived though, was Slyph being capable of such an alarming display of retribution. In the distance, through the broken buildings and smouldering rubble, she caught sight of the young girl brutalising the Caravan Master.

Beryl made a mental note of thanking Slyph later, only to then scribble in another one directly above it; don't piss off the kid.

"She's a live wire this one, isn't she?" she said to Johnny.

"Y-yeah..." Johnny said, trying his best not to stare, "Where did you find her?"

Johnny proceeded to do a quick tally to see if all of his appendages were still in the right place as he picked himself up off the ground.

***Author's Note: Fucking Verizon!!***

Where were we? Ah yes...

Despite how dumb an idea it might sound to go along with a bomb-collaring, William didn't have much of a choice. It was either that or the Secret Garden routine, and believe you me...we don't need to go down that particular Johnny Depp trip, okay? So, the Lady Captain led him to the room in which the thing would be installed...by a Latino man in a lab coat. Don't...think too hard on that one. Upon being asked about the transceiver, Alice cleared it up for him as the scientist put the collar on.

Alice: That's the general idea. We had an earlier version of this on a guy called Plisskin, but it was just a slave collar with a tracking device. And unfortunately, Snake was clever enough to get it around someone else's neck, so when we blew it...well, we blew it, basically.

The collar was checked out and then she led Will to the opened grate, where he would have to crawl into the place...much like Bishop from Aliens. That wasn't a very pleasant-sounding thing. Let's move on to Evan and Dudley, huh?

Dudley: WHAARRRRF!!!

Or...maybe not?

FalloutJack: Dude, what the hell? I was just gonna do a quick scan, ask a few questions. I save the rough stuff for raiders and shit.

Evan: I think he was thinking of a different kind of processing. Like...meat processing.

FalloutJack: Oh. Ohhhh... Awkward...

He called in a pair of recruits to pull him over to the guard station, where before they did anything else, they doused him with a few buckets of water to clean him up and get his head back in the game. The guard station had a few guards, a few chairs, a few tables with things on them, and...a computer with a scanner. The scanner indicated the physical health and basic contents of of a being. It was, in fact, a medical scanner from an autodoc.

FalloutJack: Okay...so one of you is a bona fide wastelander and one of you is clearly an ex-Vaulty. Gee, I wonder which one's which. Alright, boys. You take Glasses. I'll handle Barf Lad.

There were a few small rooms for interrogation. Jack escorted Dudley to one and proceeded with...question number one.

FalloutJack: You're in a desert, and you see below you...a turtle that's gotten stuck on its back. You see that it is unable to turn over back onto its feet. Now, why aren't you helping it?

Huh? What the broiling fuck was he doing?

FalloutJack: In your own words, describe the fondest memory of your own mother.

Wait, is he...?

FalloutJack: These tests are completely standard.

Yyyyup... Blade Runner for the win!

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

It was a distinctive problem for Abe and Crawver. They had been accosted by these ghouls in cloaks, right? Cultists who seem to worship 'The Wet One', which appeared to be Crawver? And they had been led by the Red Guy, who had even had Udders? So, all in all that's a good day for them, isn't it? Only...there was one...small issue. THEY WOULDN'T LEAVE THEM ALONE!! They kept - every now and then - going on about the blessed Skyfall, the Reign of Water, and the calling of the Wet Ones. Clearly, this was about the recent rains of pure water. In fact, it even happened around them from time to time, like a miracle. But...they kept shouting on and on about finding the place of calling, the center place, the grand structure. Even the Red Guy was in on it.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Now, do please get into the head of the man who decided to contront our man, Stormy. He's a guy getting on a bit in years, but he's got alot of experience and has seen alot in his day...and now this: Some glowy-eyed guy in what most people can identify as NCR Ranger armor - no helmet - with a very official-sounding mode of speech that uncomfortably reminded him of the very Enclave the boy appeared to be looking for. The rifleman, who might resemble a certain rendition of Slim Pickens, answered the question put forth to him.

Taggert: Well, I'll tell you, boy. I ain't seen very much of them, except the first, on account of the lady-in-armor at the bar with her boys standing idle. They all stand around while she says she's 'running tests', until she sends one of 'em off to DO something. Doesn't take a genius to figure all the other Enclavers in there are actually robots, 'cause they never talk or drink or anything else. If you've got any business with 'em, my only say in it is try not to blow it all up.

That was when a younger townsgoer came up to him and whispered in his ear...badly.

"Whisper whisper whisper REALLY whisper whisper BIG whisper whisper whisper MIRELURK whisper whisper..."

Taggert: What in wide world of sports are you talking about?!

Ah, well...if you just follow him to a spot beyond this one house that puts the Nuka Cola Factory in view, you could see that...yes...there was a big glowing crab monster out there, one that looked large and deadly enough to wreck buildings.

Taggert: Well, hoooly shit. I thought that Mr. Estabahn had the place figured out. That's gonna put a mighty pinch on the product...

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Uhhh, let's deal with Stan first. He had gotten himself all nice and out of the way of the menacing monster and its chase-down of Danielle and Wayne. He had, instead, wandered into the DC area, found a patrol of Brotherhood of Steel soldiers, all of whom were being advised of a giant monster approaching the area.

BoS Soldier: What, AGAIN?! How many fucking times is this gonna happen?

Okay, back to the fight now. Those two had done a bit of damage and indeed seemed to be leading it on. The thing was...this big stomping monster was NOT known for its speed. It was known for its relentlessness and destructive force. Oh, there was one OTHER thing to take note of...

The giant crustacean let out a hissing snarl loud enough to wake the dead...and then all of its glowy-bits began to brighten as apparently some large bolts flew off of its top-back from somewhere as it opened its mouth to unleash a beam of glowing-blue...uhhh...Nuka Cola Quantum. Yeah, this high-pressure blast of radioactive liquid was not a super-destructive death-breath, but a tide of the soda-stuff. It wouldn't vaporize Danielle, whom it headed right for, but she'd be needing Rad-X and Radaway soon enough. Also, the sudden surge in energy grew back the parts that's been hurt! Problems? Oh yes.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

We dunno what Johnny-boy's been smoking there, folks, but we've established that it's only so-and-so years after the third game, so the cast was actually quite alive, sort of why - you know - Three Dog was around? And Sarah Lyons? And Lucus Simms? Yeah. Sorry, boy. As for the Caravan Master, he growned as he woke up, and then groaned again when he saw who was doing the waking. That said, what followed next was a...bit of an unexpected moment in time. You could call it an impossibility, or a completely random event, or even batshit crazy. We prefer to call it a glitch.

What happened was...against all reason...a completely-intact Robobrain fell on the Caravan Master from high up, killing him stone dead. The robot, meanwhile, activated on its own, looked around with a few hums and beeps, and then activated a holo-recording from an emitter on its body. There, the visual of a man who looked like he might have a good use for the built-in seat installed on this robot was heard to say and repeat...

"...Huh? What the hell is this?...Huh? What the hell is this?...Huh? What the hell is this?..."

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

MEANWHILE...remember how there was this talk of three Behemoths chasing a ghoul in a jeep? Well...out of nowhere...a robot wielding mini-nukes cae out of nowhere, jumping down from a building, off against the back of the jeep, and into the trio of bad boys!

Liberty Minor, ladies and gentlemen! The small-scale version of Prime kicked into the face of one behemoth right off, jumping off of it to punch into the mouth of the second with a mini-nuke and setting it off as it then leapt at the third one as the first was getting up. And that, everybody, was one round of FEAR TEH LAZORFACE as LM blasted the big mutant point-blank, leaving just the two living combatants.

Liberty Minor: One shall stand, one shall fall...

"WHY THROW YOUR LIFE AWAY SO RECKLESSLY?"

Liberty Minor: That's a question you should ask yourself, communist.

But we know how this is going to end. It's Liberty, after all.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Now, the meeting was being held and Sarah first heard Lucy's take on the matter. Fooling the Enclave sounded like a good idea, if possible, but then again why not let the also clean up their own man? She'd reserve judgement on that. As for restocking.

Sarah: I don't have a problem with any of you stocking up for this. You'll need it.

This led into Frank's opening commentary, in which the Elder said "Shut up" and then turned onto the next person...which was Barry describing his experiences with the Enclave AT THEIR BASE amongst other things, to which Frank decided to interrupt again.

Sarah: Look, if it makes you feel any better, it was good to see dat ass again, now give us a break, Frank.

What then followed was Shifty's idea of using his practice as a means of delivering the super mutants the idea of a healthy supply of Soylent Green for the Doc to feed his army with. A bit risky, but she made a note of it. Sneaking in might work better, if the Behemoths in question didn't just ate everyone on sight. Fortunately, Frank's brain returned when the coffee came in and pointed out the very risk of Behemoth proportions.

"There's a behemoth-sized problem with your plan; mutants aren't the type to engage in commerce. They take what they want. I've got a plan, but it involves airdrops, and I don't think you guys are too fond of those. Any ideas?"

Sarah: There's a rule from The Seven Habits of Highly-Effective Pirates which reads 'Everything is air-droppable once'. And that was actually part of my attack plan, really. So that's three different plans, so far.

That was when reports of a giant frigging crabcake came in and Frank wanted a man in the air imediately. Sarah decided to give this a shot and get Gilford into the air, who immediately had to question just what the hell they meant by 'pulling the raid boss'.

Sarah: You're gonna try to lead that thing up North to the Doc, aren't you?

"Look, if it makes you feel any better, it was good to see dat ass again, now give us a break, Frank.""
"I'm always objectifying and demeaning towards my most recent ex, don't you remember how I acted towards Knight Sutherland when I was dating you? It's nothing personal, and I'm not going to stop."
You're gonna try to lead that thing up North to the Doc, aren't you?
"But of course!"


---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Perception]The beast began to glow.
[Entrench]Danielle got behind some rubble to her and the beast's mutual left.
A torrent of nuka cola blasted the rubble. It smelled awful.
[Black Widow]"You have to take me to the shooting range before you spray me with any bodily fluids!"
Why does it always have to be Nuka Cola? That awful awful drink.
[Perception]Somehow, spewing Nuka cola had caused its injuries to recover. Danielle supposed getting Nuka Cola out of your system would make anybody feel better.
Suddenly, out from the Citadel came a Vertibird.
It flew towards the beast, fired a volley from its gattling laser, and flew off rather slowly as the monster began to chase it.
"Well, I'm glad that's dealt with. I need a drink."

When Jack posted

All jokes aside. :P

Andale Gate

As the two town folk talked about the giant Nukalurk a few ways/houses behind Storm, the lone ranger clone was talking to himself about how he failed to look like a superhero rather then an Enclave soldier.

Skip to 0:25

"How dare they ignore my awesome heroism ..." He said to himself clutching his hand until he noticed the giant nukalurk attacking the Nuka Cola plant behind him. "Well that's different, Thinking for a bit he thought to himself that attacking those Enclave head on in a town like this would be suicide on multiple levels ... so attacking the nukalurk would be LESS suicidal.

"Right ... hold it right there nice people. I shall solve this nukalurk problem of yours and you guys can give me a free bed and the heads of those Enclave ... if not I'll burn everyone" He muttered the last few words to himself before smiling once more and turned around to the road.

"I'll be back!" He waved in a very friendly manner and he walked off with his bike. He did not trust that town one single bit ... especially with his bike. He was planning to kill the Nukalurk thing, explore the plant and trail back to town to claim his reward and the heads of those Enclave.

With that he managed to start walking once more to the plant, even though he just walked through the wastes without one break or drink.

"Oh wonderful, just what I always wanted." The collar was heavy, a constant reminder of the DEADLY EXPLOSIVES around William's neck. That comment about 'when we blew it' hadn't gone unnoticed either. He quite suspected they would rather kill him than let him go. After all, someone had to get the collar off and the EU would hear it. Maybe Evan could help with that, if William got that far.

For now, it was into the grate and keep crawling. The captain shut the grate behind him, a loud clang ringing in his ears. It was time to get going.

==================================================================

Dudley meanwhile was having a fine time, still mildly dazed from the several buckets of water thrown over him and the drained feeling after being sick twice. He had required help to get into a small room where Fallout Jack started asking him questions about his mother, or a turtle, or his mothers turtle.

"Urrggh, I don't help the turtle because it might be a raider trap, who knows if it's really a turtle-bomb. Or I'd eat the turtle and keep the shell as armour, or a new beer mug." For a man wearing power armour, Fallout Jack was doing an excellent job of looking confused. "Fondest memory of my mother, when she shot a Yao-Guai with a rocket launcher. The meal came pre cooked and prepared that night. Why are ya askin me this?"

Poor Dudley, things had really gone downhill for him. A few days ago he was the mightiest man in the wasteland, big, strong and armed to the teeth with destructive weaponry. Now he was surrounded by Enclave soldiers, all tougher and more dangerous than him. And he had vomited, twice, on himself, and Evan. Oh boy......

==================================================================

Now then, back to William, who was making his way through the tunnel, Pip-boy lighting his way. There was not much room room to move around in so crawling on knees and elbows was the way to go, it also made less noise than using his hands. Still, those elbows were starting to hurt. As he came to the end of the tunnel there was another grate, on the other side could be an Enclave base, or more tunnel. Rather than opening it and blundering about like a lunati- wait, you've a bomb collar..... rather than blundering about like a non-explosive lunatic he decided to see if this collar would actually be of any use.

"Ok, so I'm at another grate, where do I go from here?"

Oh boy......

Lucy had gotten a little detached from the conversation, if her mind were an elevator, the panicked paladin's message had to wait.

La da da da da
Doo do do doo
Da la da doo
La da da da da

...Wait...Giant??? Mirelurk!?!

*DING*

She hated mirelurks, not in an aggressive manner, but more in an oh-my-atom, those things are icky, get-em-away, I need to scrub my face with abraxo cleaner, eww! - manner.

While her mind was flipping out, she had grown rather pale and looked ill over the mere idea of a giant mirelurk running around. Much to her dismay, Frank even had a plan involving the grotesque thing.

"I don't have a problem with any of you stocking up for this. You'll need it."

She took that as her cue to leave, she nodded towards Elder Lyons respectfully and made her way to the door. She asked for directions to the armoury while claiming her gear from the soldiers at the door and headed out, hoping to get there first.

_____________

It wasn't very long before she was greeted by the scribe in charge of the armoury,

"Miss Black, am I right? Paladin Gilford mentioned that I should be on the lookout for you and some superhero type. One of the wandering help that aided in the siege of the Citadel. I hear you're 3 parts responsible for saving our asses! What do you need?"

She wasn't used to being so boldly praised before, so naturally she grew a little pink before waving him off with an embarrassed chuckle, "I really didn't do all that much except pull the trigger at the right time. Paladin Gilford, Frank, Shifty, Barry and Marlon...those are the guys you should be thanking."

She pointed at her rifle and dumped her open backpack on the table, "We're heading out to take down the guy responsible for all this. So if you want to thank me somehow, I'm going to need your help restocking."

It wasn't long before she had her bag brimming with Gauss ammo, bolts, as she liked to call them and four stimpacks that she could easily reach in her armour's pouches. She wanted her bag full, but she didn't want it to be cumbersome...which struck her with an idea as she noticed a plasma pistol along the rows of weapons.

She pointed at it and asked for ammo for that as well in exchange for some of her Gauss ammo. Sixteen shots in a plasma pistol, as opposed to her Gauss Rifle's one.

Taking stock of everything, she was armed to the teeth and had more supplies than ever before. She had a weapon to spare for someone if things got bad at least.

"Well the Elder did say I'll need it." she muttered to herself as she clipped in the familiar weight of a plasma pistol onto her leg. If they were infiltrating an unknown base, facing behemoths and possibly a giant frikkin mirelurk...then yeah, she definitely needed all this.

All in all, Lucy looked no different than before. Except for her hair styled in pigtails once more and a shiny new plasma pistol on her leg.

She figured it would be a good idea to wait in the armoury for someone to tag along with.

She couldn't help her focus turning inwards when left alone.
___________

Ironically, she knew why she chose this weapon. A plasma pistol. Her mother's weapon of choice. As opposed to the very rifle on her back, handed down ungracefully by her father.

Her father, FalloutIsaac, wanted nothing more than her safety and her very weapon of choice represented that fact. With a gauss rifle, you always keep your distance and keep those around you at bay with complete precision.

Her mother, Amy Kane, wanted nothing more than her daughter to join her side and bend those around her to her will. The plasma pistol was always about getting closer to your enemies and attacking them with unrelenting force.

Her weapon choices reflected the unique touch her family had on her life. Two distant and opposing forces hoping to mold their daughter in order to fit their image.

She was scared once more. Life's pawn as always, regardless of how vastly unprepared she was.

In her own way, she felt that her family was always by her side. One way or another.

Yet, who would Lucy ultimately take after?

The beast began to glow before letting out a bright, horrid vomit. His pip boy clicked lightly. The stuff was radioactive but luckily it was far enough in front of him for the radiation to only be minor. Pulling up his rifle he looked down the scope to see the soldier hidden behind cover, he was surprised she wasn't ghoulified by the blast before remembering that those suits of power armor offer some protection against radiation.

What do I do? I'm lost in this damn place. My only guide so far has disapeared and the only other person who seems to know their way around is that smug damsel in distress. Wayne thought to himself Looks like helping her out is my only choice. Besides, brotherhood should have some information about the Enclave. Wayne sighed, a long sigh of disapointment. He just wished he had landed and found a sign saying 'Wayne, go this way you fucking crip!' Of course things were never that easy. You always had to find somebody, and they always needed something doing for them before they helped. And then you ended up repeating the whole process again.

He grabbed his rifle by the barrel, using it as a walking stick and set off after the creature. Luckily it wasn't too fast, not that it was hard to find or anything, and perhaps keeping his distance for now would be the best option, at least until the opportune moment arose.

It was then that a vertibird flew over, firing at the beast before making a suspiciously slow getaway. 'Interesting' said Wayne aloud as he continued to walk. It must have been the soldiers friends, he deduced and set off to find her instead.

Stan had spotted the group of silly armored fellas pointing their guns at approximately jack shit, wandering around looking for god-only-knows-what. Stan was beginning to think these folks weren't as bright as they tried to seem.

"Oi, you lot!" he shouted to them, then jogged over. "There's a giant 'lurk over at the Nuka-Cola factory. It might be coming this way. Just so you know!"

"What, AGAIN?! How many fucking times is this gonna happen?" one of them- the leader, maybe? Stan hadn't the slightest idea- said in exasperation.

Just then, a Vertibird flew over, rather low, heading towards the plant.
One of the BoS soldiers whistled. "Well, I'd say that takes care of that. Good luck with that monster." he said, and the squad moved on.
Stan sighed, and turned back the way he'd come. He watched the vertibird fire at something, then slowly fly off.
A delightfully obvious plot.
Yep. These Brotherhood folks are not nearly as clever as they think they are. It's kind of off-putting. Seriously, these are the good guys? If they're winning, then the Enclave must be run by children and lobotomites. Stan sighed. He was starting to remind himself of his father, being so down on people. Doesn't matter if their plans are so obvious. As long as they get the job done.
He shrugged, and headed after the vertibird. He guessed Wayne would probably chase after the 'lurk. He did not seem the type to leave a fight unfinished, and Stan had no interest in seeing more Brotherhood cunts.

"Huh," Johnny said when the robo-brain flattened the Caravan Master and started its little holo-show, "Did we just win a prize or something?"

Johnny paused to listen to what the hologram was actually saying.

"Oh hell," he said, rolling his eyes, and leveling his rifle at the machine as a precaution, "If it starts ranting about the secret plans to the Mecha-Deathclaw or something, I say we shoot this little Robco reject dead."

The girl in red had been largely ignoring the situation, having even failed to notice Mysterious Mister Robco Robobrain, who had nearly smashed her into an itty bitty teensie weensie thinner than thin blood patch, as the girl with the ribbons was in the middle of seeing what interesting things were located in Mister Caravan Man's pockets.

"OoooOOOOoooo!! Rad Scorpion Meat!" The girl exclaimed happily as she pulled out a bag of the crablike meat, pulled out a piece and munched down, still ignoring Mysterious Mister Robco Robobrain that was scanning the trio of travelers.

"If it starts ranting about the secret plans to the Mecha-Deathclaw or something, I say we shoot this little Robco reject dead." Said Mister Johnny Shakes, pointing Mister Lever Action Rifle at Mysterious Mister Robco Robobrain.

"Beep-Tweet-Boop-Bzzzzt!" Mysterious Mister Robco Robobrain Beep-Tweet-Boop-Bzzzzted before something or someone got between Mister Lever Action Rifle and his target.

"Hey Mister Lever Action Rifle! Why you pointing yourself at Mysterious Mister Robco Robobrain? It's rude to point you know?" Asked Sylphee, speaking directly into the barrel of Mister Lever Action Rifle, bits of Rad Scorpion Meat flying out of her mouth as she spoke and her foot landing on Mister Johnny Shakes' shoes.

...Huh? What the hell is this?...Huh? What the hell is this?...Huh? What the hell is this?..."

"For an alien, Mysterious Mister Robco Robobrain, you sure do talk strange." She said turning around sniffing Mysterious Mister Robco Robobrain.

"Hey Mysterious Mister Robco Robobrain, did you know that you smell like Nukacola? Like really bad? Like you've been bathing in it? Is there Nukacola on your spaceship?"

Though he certainly didn't mean to, due to his incredibly fast-acting allergy to everything Radscorpion, Johnny wound up chewing and swallowing some of the meat that had landed in his mouth; which in turn cause Johnny to start spasming uncontrollably and randomly. This culminated in Johnny accidentally pulled the trigger on his rifle when his hands clenched in pain.

"Fuck!" he yelled, "Sorry! Whoever I hit! It was an accident!" (1)

Ohh... man... this is going to suck if I hit Sylph or that cold bitch over there. Might be fun if I hit that piece of Robco trash though. Not saying it might not be useful or valuable or anything... but... if it happened to fall into the Potomac and someone just... happened to throw an EMP grenade in after it. Well, there are worse things that could happen.

(1)No it wasn't.-Ed *

* Yes it damn well was! Who can aim at anything after having their feet stamped on! (2)

(2)Mr. Truant, as has already been demonstrated by his ability to hit and take out multiple opponents with his lever action rifle while suffering from a number of drug withdrawals... could easily aim at something while suffering the relatively mild pain and distraction caused by an annoying allergy. -Ed **

** 'Annoying allergy'? Just whose side are you on anyway? (3)

(3)My amusement. -Ed ***

*** Fuck you!

Things happened rather quickly, as they always seem to when the girl in red was trying to have a conversation with inanimate objects such as Mister Lever Action Rifle. One moment the girl with the ribbon wrapped pony tails was pointing out, gleefully I might add, that pointing at Mysterious Mister Robco Robobrain, a robot sent from a spaceship or Heaven or something, the next moment Sylphee saw a glimmering object on the ground.

"OOoooOOoo" The smiling girl said as she bent over to retrieve the glittering blue bottle cap that had caught her attention.

The next moment, she found herself on her back. This was a decidedly uncomfortable yet familiar position that she found herself in that she hadn't experienced since her before her release into Wild Wastelands. The unfamiliar part was the burning sensation she felt in her back.

"Ooowwww!!!" She cried out with tears in her eyes, her voice trembling as she felt some sort of liquid spurting onto the dry desert-like ground underneath her.


From the Robobrain's heightened perspective, he saw things pan out rather illogically, his sensors, though damaged from the long distance drop caused by Nukalurkzilla, was still able to record things in sequence.

Time Code - Subject - Action

0:00 - Human Female 1 - Bends over to retrieve bottle cap
0:01 - Human Male - Discharges fire arm due to increase in histamine levels, unknown cause
0:02 - Human Female 1 - Is struck by discharged bullet. Location: knapsack
0:02.1 - Human Female 1 - Bullet strikes object identified as fragmentation mine, destroying primary detonation mechanism but discharging small primer charge before ricocheting into a bottle of Heinz 667 Ketchup.
0:02.2 - Human Female 1 - Falls onto back due to strike from bullet, small fire inside knapsack is extinguished.


It took a moment for the shock to wear off but Sylphee eventually picked herself up off of the ground and brushed herself off before checking what it was that had caused the pain in her back.

"Mister Lever Action Rifle!! You ruined a Smiley Missy Miss Landmine!" The Blue eyed girl said as she pulled out the ruined Smiley Missy Miss Landmine and tossed it on the ground, where it was inexplicably detonate later once the group was far enough away. However, she did enjoy the taste of more Rad Scorpion Meat covered in Heinz 667 Ketchup.

"Om nom nom nom nom nom nom!"

An Undertaker's Stockpile
Citadel Armory

"I don't have a problem with any of you stocking up for this. You'll need it."

As with Miss Lucy, the Tall and Pale Undertaker took that as he cue to leave the meeting room and head towards the Armory, his current weapons that had be selected due to their ability to be hidden on his person, not befitting the mission that the Elder Lyons of the Brotherhood of Steel had given the rag tag group that had been thrown together out of necessity. Walking down the halls towards the Armory, Shifty's thoughts focused on how best to keep his new acquaintances from joining the unfortunate souls that he had just burried not to long ago.

Entering the Armory, the Dapper Undertaker of the East's eyes notice Miss Lucy preparing herself, the same thing that he was intending to do, he wagered as he refocused on the task at hand.

To no one's surprise, the Undertaker was ignored by the Armory's Scribe and left to his own devices. In this case, the fact that he was being ignored suited the Tall and Pale man just fine as he walked purposefully towards the shelves that contained boxes of ammunition.

Grabbing a box of .357 ammunition, he couldn't help but remember the last time he had actually used Mags to kill someone.


"Shifty, we've got a bit of problem that we need to you take care of on your way out to the East Coast." Undertaker Smitty McGee, Shifty's father, had said to him as he was preparing his bicycle and bag for the long journey to the East.

"Really Dad? Because you could always just have Henry take care of it since he's already taking care of things in Middle America. The people on the East Coast are in dire need of our services after all and I think that to delay would be most..."

"The problem is your brother, Shifty. Henry's gotten mixed up in some business that we Undertakers don't particularly care for. It seems that he's been selling off his clients to a bunch of hooligans call the Legion that stage fights between slaves and animals. He's been selling his clients as a food source to the animals used in these fights. It also seems that he's taken on a slave of his own, a girl barely 17 years old that he uses as a body guard." The Elder Undertaker said as he walked towards a bookshelf and took down a small wooden case

"So you would like me to talk he Henry, right? He's always been a reasonable member of the family and he has always listened to me." The Younger Undertaker said, trying to keep his eyes off of the wooden case, knowing what was inside.

"No. I need for you to release him from his duties." The Pale and Tall undertaker's father said as he opened the case, revealing the 357 Magnum Revolver that was contained inside.

"And the girl? Am I supposed to take her on as my ward as well?"

"No. Kill her too. But whatever you do, do not remove her choker."


Shaking the memory out of his head, Undertaker of the East, Shifty McGee found that as he had been lost in the memories, he had grabbed an assault rifle with ammunition as well and was in the process of jamming a clip of Armor Piercing 5.56 MM rounds into the rifle's lower receiver, keeping a few extra clips in reserve.

"And last but not least..." The Undertaker muttered as he grabbed some black leather armor and quickly made a few rough alterations to that the armor resembled his suit.

It took a moment but in the end, the Undertaker looked like he had when he had entered the Wild Wastelands, only he was now ready to go to war and fight for the people that he had only recently met. Only now rather than the standard Undertaker garments he had worn daily, he was wearing a mishmash of those clothes as well as the leather armor.

Looking at Miss Lucy, the Undertaker smiled a brief smile as he indicated that he was ready, but quickly noticed that the bookish woman was lost in her own thoughts.

"So, Miss Lucy. A cap for your thoughts?"

Luck was a peculiar quality in the wasteland. The Caravan Master had the tremendous luck of being in the only place in the world where he could be crushed by a falling Robobrain. Then Sylph was somehow still alive, despite God throwing every possible weapon in his arsenal at her. Even Johnny managed to survive a ravaging hoard of ghouls.

Beryl didn't feel very lucky. Least of all for being stuck with these halfwits. Her bony hands formed into fists, and her clenched teeth began creaking under the pressure. She could hear her own blood boiling. Vivid images flashed up in her mind. She thought about slapping sylph's idiot face until her ears met in the middle, and about burying "Trigger Happy Johnny" to his neck in dirt and using his head as a golfing tee. Then she thought about stripping naked and doing a haka on their poorly maintained graves.

"When everyone has quite finished shooting each other..." she said, the words coming out as a growl.

The Robobrain let out a depressed sounding series of beeps. Beryl gave it an angry kick, only to become yet more angry as her toes crunched against the steel robot chassis. She stormed off, stamped the pain out of her foot back into shape, and returned.

"Let's just crack this fucking thing open and figure out what happened."

She didn't know much about robotics, but there was probably some kind of black box or recording or something inside. Anything that might explain why it was raining robots would do. Selecting the right tool for the job, she thwacked the Robobrain in the abdomen with the 9 iron until the front plating came free. Then she battered it some more, if only to feel better in herself.

"I don't suppose either of you know much about science?" she finally said, gesturing to the others with the golf club.

"So, Miss Lucy. A cap for your thoughts?"

"Parental abandonment and it's effects on the individual's developmental state..." she mumbled out loud in an autonomous response. If her eye's weren't buried under a thinker's frown, you'd think she was asleep judging her tone. She snapped out of her state and managed a half-hearted smile up at the familiar and tall figure nearby.

"Sorry about th- Woah!" she exclaimed as she actually got a good look at Shifty, "Leather armour, it definitely suits you."

She motioned towards the seat next to her, she reckoned they had some time to kill. After all, she doubted whether the rest would ignore the opportunity to grab some better equipment before heading out. Lucy did notice something about the Undertaker's expression, yet she couldn't quite put her finger on it. She decided to take a stab anyway.

"So how does it feel to be locked into a mission on an organisation's whim?" her voice failed to convey any sense of confidence, which was unnerving for her, "Better yet, how does it feel to be thrown in together with a team that largely seem to be at odds with one another?"

She did enjoy the ability to stretch her vocabulary when she was around the now Tall and Daunting Undertaker, a passive collection of knowledge spent reading in the past. She missed her favourite pastime, she's barely had any time to herself lately.

Lucy knew that the entire "conversation" with FalloutBob earlier had shook her very foundation and she had no reason to really doubt his words, especially since he believed her to be on his side. In this moment however, she didn't know how to discern the truth from lies at this point. She was wary of everyone, to the point where she wanted to push the very world away until she found her motivation again to move forward.

It frustrated her to no end and she realized that this was no attitude to have when walking towards a very threatening situation soon. She needed to know someone else was on her side. She could take comfort in that at least.

"FalloutBob..." she uttered loud enough for him to hear. It had taken her a moment before continuing.

"Sorry, please remember-" she took a deep breath and sighed heavily, "-...I'm trusting you."

And with that, she slowly started to confide in the trusted Undertaker. Describing her long-overdue meeting, glossing over the history bits for context, detailing her cover identity and the effort it took. Finally, she described everything in detail. Who her father really was, the answers to his murder and how her image of him was shattered beyond repair.

Clearly growing unhinged after that, her tone and expression indicated her disillusioned state. Some part of her was clearly screaming out for help, asking for someone to give her some motivation or at the very least calm her maelstrom of thoughts.

She touched on mere thoughts at this point, "To top it off, I have no idea where my mother is. The supposed skills I've used to get to this point, I-..."

Dammit, she was slipping.

"I don't know who I am any more."

Johnny Truant is unconscious. (1)

(1) More accurately, he writhed in pain for several seconds, alternately muttering and screaming incoherent nonsense like 'Gah! It burns it burns!' and 'The knuckles! The horrible knuckles!' before finally blacking out. Once Mr. Truant was out of the picture (for now at least)... I decided to step in. Fill in for him, as it were. To that effect, I slowly and carefully clambered back to my feet and strapped his... ungainly and noisy lever action rifle onto Mr. Truant's back before walking over to The Red Princess's side and starting to treat her minor wounds with Mr. Truant's exhaustive supply of Med-X and Stimpacks. Before turning my attention back to that cold bitch and that damned robot, I retrieved a green ink pen from Mr. Truant's satchel and wrote a quick little note on The Red Princess's hand:

'Terribly sorry about that. Mr. Truant either has an awfully convenient allergy to Radscorpion meat, or... the toxins from the beast's body simply didn't interact well with his usual hmm... cocktail of Psycho, Mentats, Jet, and Buffout. Once again, I apologize for Mr. Truant's rather... appalling lack of decorum, and I hope you do not hold it against him, as he really is quite stupid. -Ed.'

Without a single spoken word, I made my way over to the disgusting robobrain and fetched Mr. Truant's... 'lucky' hammer. This little hammer is one he typically used to crush especially hard ingestibles into a more manageable paste. I mouthed the words 'for Cazadores' at the cold bitch before silently hammering away at the robobrain's sensitive spots that would open it up post-haste.

Wayne was making ground, following the beast as it lay waste to the various cars, overpasses and other assorted obstacles one would find on a road strewn with cars positioned in a way that showed nothing but the desperation of the occupants as the bombs fell all those years ago. Of course, he had to be careful of these cars, not only were they prone to exploding, they also released a fair amount of radiation when they did.

His leg was slowly acting up again, even with the aid of the makeshift walking stick firearm. A hit of Med-X and RadAway wouldn't go amiss right now. His supply of said items were, however, god knows where. With the goliathan crustacean occupied with the vertibird, Wayne decided now was a good time to set his Robobrain back to follow. He punched in the command to his Pip-boy, knowing wherever it was it would find him, eventually. All he could do was pray to whatever twisted deity that let the world get this way that it wouldn't attract the attention of any undesirables.

Scanning the area as he hobbled he realised he had lost sight of the soldier. "Great, on my fucking own again" he muttered to himself. At the best of times he could at least find solace in talking to his Robobrain. Forcing himself to believe that the 'unique' brain Arcade and Julie Farkas kept banging on about could hear him, and better yet understand him. He subconciously tricked himself into believing it had become an extension of himself, not only was it capable of helping him to carry objects and his own tired, pessimistic, crippled ass, it could also carry the burden of Wayne's thoughts.

He pushed on, determined to find some damn help so he could find his friend and get back to more familiar territory, not quite realising that the beast he was following may as well have been a giant turd moving ever closer to a big ass fan.

Stan stepped lively- the damn beast was fast- and followed along a parallel street. He crawled over rubble and broken cars, but at least he was out of the way of the debris that thing was leaving behind.

He scanned the area again, looking for any sign of Wayne. Nada. Not even that robobrain he had trailing him. Stan figured he'd think to follow on a parallel street, but the man's leg might preclude him crawling over rubble.

Stan sighed, and resigned himself to getting on the same street. They went a few more blocks, nearly out of the city at this point, before Stan found a cross street he could traverse quickly.
It was, of course, inhabited by raiders. They seemed to have ducked in the sidestreet to get out of the Goliath's way, and put themselves directly into Stan's. OOPS.

"Hey there fellas." Stan called, and drew his revolver. Raiders didn't care whether or not you drew your weapon: they were going to kill you. Or try, at least.
"Fuck you! It'll hear you!" one of them practically screamed. Stan stifled a sigh.
[Speech]"You gonna let me through, or am I gonna have to call my buddies in that Vertibird and have 'em lead that big motherfucker over this way?"
[Success!] "Uh, nah, man. It's your funeral if you wanna go after that thing, this ain't even our territory." one of them called back. Stan walked quickly through, his gun still gripped lightly. He was expecting at least a little trouble, but it seemed that the three raiders had no interest in fighting.

This thing has these assholes more spooked than I thought. Now, let's see about finding Wayne...

Danielle came to the gate of the Citadel.
"Open up!"
The gates opened before her, revealing the Citadel courtyard.
"Home sweet home."
Danielle removed her helmet and carried it under her arm.
[Perception]Danielle saw Scribe Briana Goodman in the courtyard.
"Hey Dan, how'd the situation with those crabs go?"
[Black Widow]"That cleared up weeks ago..."
"Oh, the Mirelurks! Vaporized a bunch of them at the Nuka Cola plant. Unfortunately the plant itself is still standing."
"I know you hate the stuff, but I'm glad that they'll still be around to produce Nuka. I heard they even started making flavors from out west. I really want to try Nuka Cola Victory. It's supposed to be cherry flavored."
"Cherry flavored Nuka? Why would anyone do such a thing!? That's like puking on a pile of shit!"
"Charming as ever I see. Your brother's here by the way. You missed him getting naked and handsy with the Enclave guy we captured though. He even still has that Weird Al Yankovic hair."
"I really should be checking on him, nice seeing you."
"Bye!"
Danielle headed off to the Elder's office before looking for Frank, luckily, Frank was already there. As was the Van Graff and some unknown cripple.
"Danny boy!"
"Francine!"
[Perception]Frank's armor had a hideous new paint-job.
"Your armor's paint-job looks even more hideous than the one you had before leaving the Brotherhood."
Danielle threw her rifle at Frank's head.
"Fix it."
"Yes, sister."
Frank walked off with the rifle, grumbling along the way.
Danille turned her attentions to the Van Graff.
"Hello Mr. Van Graff, I'm sorry our last meeting had to be cut short by Frank. Since you're still alive, that means Elder Lyon's has plans for you. While I respect our Elder's wishes, if you try anything; know that I can shoot your dick off from..."
[Black Widow]Danielle grabbed Marlon's crotch.
[Energy Weapons 100/100][Success!]"...Halfway across the wastes."
"Elder Lyons, I understand you've captured an Enclave big-wig. Mind if I have a crack at interrogating him?"

*alright. Alright alright alright. Right. Ahem*

"Crawver, Doctor, uh, oh damn and blast!"

"I'm just not used to situations evolving at such a speed, my poor dry brain can't quite draw a line from one side to the other. Perhaps I'm just growing old...bah! Old age! What a thing to wrack myself with at such a time! Perhaps I'm becoming too acclimatised to all this nonsense. That's what it is, a lack of sense. Nothing sensible is happening, as a scientist I can't process it."

"I'll admit, I've had no choice but to turn to more of this...survival tonic. My body appears to be more welcoming of it's influence, more so than the first dose. Perhaps...no. Better that Abraham and I are the sole imbibers. I shan't allow such poisons to pass Udders' lips, and as benevolent as our new companions may seem, it would be unwise to share such an unpredictable concoction; though I daresay some of their number seem on the cusp of death. I'm not sure if it's the same ones each time."

"oh, yes. Our companions. Doubtless you will have heard their...oratory, yes that's the right word, oratory; I have made my first field recording of unusual phenomena, the subject being them. A more bizarre mutation of the human being I have never seen. I'm categorising their condition under the disappointingly vague title of 'radiation', for now. Hideously scarred and - dare I say it - melted as they are, there is...there is a warmth that pervades the washboard scrape of their voices. It is a rarity indeed. Perhaps that is enough to dissuade me from suspicion. Perhaps."

"Abraham is keeping very quiet. I plan to make a thorough examination when he finally decides to sleep, not that I care for him and his survival, but..."

"No, I may find myself in need of this tonic in future. As for our future, as fortunate a bounty as we have been blessed with, supplies don't quite stretch between the group; and, well, it's already been doled out, I'm a gentleman, after all. A gentleman. For now, at least. More supplies will be needed."

"Sometimes I wonder where I'd be, without the need for supplies. Probably best not to think about it."

"Don't know why they insist on addressing me as 'Wet One' anyway, I'm not remotely wet. I wish I was, but we can't all have the things we want."

The girl in the red dress was not happy though, the smile on her face never ever EVER betrayed that particular fact. Whether is was the fact that someone had shot her stuff or the fact that Mister Hammer Ed/Mister Johnny Shakes was in the process of hammering away at Mysterious Mister Robco Robobrain or simply the fact that due to the greasy mess on her hand, Mister Hammer Ed/Mister Johnny Shakes' message was smeared, we'll never know. What is know is that Sylphee was definitely not going to be sitting idly while her newest friend in the Wastes was about to be hammered to death by Mister Hammer Ed.

"Hey Mister Johnny Shakes! You stop it right now!" The girl said loudly (a true lady never screams, she just says things at a louder volume) as she leaped onto Mister Johnny Shakes' back her hands covering his eyes. Given her rather flighty attitude and ability to stay on track, the mere act of covering Mister Johnny Shakes'/Hammer Ed's eyes prompted another loudly worded question.

"Hey hey hey hey hey, Mister Johnny Shakes! Guess who?" She asked as she tried to keep herself stable on Mister Johnny Shakes' back.

"Shhh! Mysterious Mister Robco Robobrain! He can't know that it's me!" She said quietly to the hammeree of Mister Hammer Ed's hammering.

An Undertaker Gets Sentimental
Citadel Armory

"Sorry about th- Woah!" she exclaimed as she actually got a good look at Shifty, "Leather armour, it definitely suits you."

It was an unusual sensation for the Undertaker to feel his words perform an emergency evacuation from his consciousness, but it was a far more unusual sensation for him to feel his face suddenly get warm, a sensation that the was sure meant that his safe was turning a violent shade of red. Nodding his thanks, he quickly followed it with a mumbled "uhh... thanks" as he adjusted his leathers underneath his Undertaker's jacket, his tie and even his hat, ensuring that everything was in place as slung the Assault Rifle around his shoulder.

"So how does it feel to be locked into a mission on an organisation's whim?" her voice failed to convey any sense of confidence, which was unnerving for her, "Better yet, how does it feel to be thrown in together with a team that largely seem to be at odds with one another?"

The question roused him from his self conscious preening and returned him to his normal aware self.

"To be quite honest, Miss Lucy, I do not feel as if we are truly at odds with one another. There is not a single person on this mission that I would not trust with my life nor question their intentions and motivations. I understand that taking on this assignment for the Brotherhood of Steel will bring you closer to finding out why it was that your Father was taken from you by the Enclave and perhaps Elder Lyons may be able to assist you towards furthering this goal. Mister Marlon, as I understand it, would gladly see this threat to the D.C. Wasteland ended as Behemoths would have no use for his merchandise and even if they did have use for it, they are hardly what I would consider a viable customer base. Secondly, a Wasteland filled with the dead, while it would increase my business, would only serve to harm his as dead men have no use for energy weapons. As for our insane comrade, Mister Frank, I would hesitate in placing my life in his hands as well as trusting him with my mortal safety, however I believe that he is ultimately loyal to the Brotherhood of Steel and would gladly follow through with whatever orders he has been given or mission he has been assigned." The leather clad Undertaker said as he wrestled with Miss Lucy's initial question.

"As for being at the mercy of someone else's whims, this is not the first time that this has occurred and I doubt this will be the final time. Though I am one now, it has not always been my goal in life to be an Undertaker. It seems that fate and my father thought that this was unimportant." He said, pausing for a breath only to head Miss Lucy's voice once more.

"FalloutBob..." she uttered loud enough for him to hear. It had taken her a moment before continuing.

"Sorry, please remember-" she took a deep breath and sighed heavily, "-...I'm trusting you."

With those words, the Undertaker began to take in the young woman's confession, her story and ultimately her cry for help. It was almost Shakespearean the way things had panned out for this young woman whom he imagined would have rather not have learned any of this but instead had been dealt a cruel hand by Lady Fate.

He watched as the woman whose capacity for caring and bravery he had come to admire came within steps of going over some sort of brink towards a breakdown, something that would have tragically cut her life short before she could see this thing with her mother through to the end.

To top it off, I have no idea where my mother is. The supposed skills I've used to get to this point, I-..."

Undertaker McGee looked up towards the woman whose tragedy he had been listening to and saw the loss of identity in her face or more specifically her eyes. There was a deadness, emptiness, sadness, loneliness that had never been there, even when she had previously talked about the loss of her father. What the venomous Fallout Bob had told his supposed spy was indeed poisonous and spreading through her system and even though he was not a chemical toxin that was assailing this woman, whom the Tall and Pale Undertaker could imagine would give up anything to be at home with her father and her head buried in a book, it would see her placed in an early grave all the same.

Taking a small step towards Miss Lucy, the Undertaker looked at her and pulled an object out of his jacket pocket: A key.

"Miss Lucy, I... I want you to take this. Whatever happens in our next mission, I will do whatever it takes to ensure your survival. Once our task has been completed and this Doc is deposed, we will find whatever information we can on your mother. The key goes to the foot locker in the quarters that the Brotherhood of Steel has given me during my stay within the Citadel. Inside you will find a substantial stash of Caps, everything I have earned during my journey to the D.C. Wasteland as well as during my time here. Use it to buy whatever information you need regarding your mother and where ever the Enclave's base of operations is. If we both make it out of this alive, I will be there to assist you in your journey." He said hoping that giving her his pledge towards seeing this thing through with her would help her find some measure of peace and counteract the sewage that Fallout Bob had injected into Miss Lucy's mind.

To be sure our Friendly Neighborhood Undertaker was motivated by his care for this woman but there was another reason that was motivating him. Perhaps if he helped the bookish woman, he would remove some of his guilt towards killing his own brother.

Johnny Truant is still unconscious. (1)

(1) I decided not to dignify whatever it was that Sylph had gotten into her head to do to me with a vocal response. Instead, I simply attempted to shrug her off by running around in a circle for a few moments, to build up momentum, and then I ducked down onto my knees as quickly and sharply as I could, planted my face into the dirt, and tried to launch Sylph off of my back.

Round and round we go, where Sylphee lands no one knows! At least that's what should have been said. Instead, from Missus Meryl Barrel's perspective, things went rather awry as Mister Johnny Shakes/Mister Hammer Ed gave the red dressed girl a circular piggy back ride.

"WeeeEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEeee!!!!" Came a rather ecstatic cheery from the girl whose pitch wavered as she traveled too and fro on Mister Johnny Shakes'/Mister Hammer Ed's back due to the doppler effect on her voice.

All would have gone well had Mister Johnny Shakes/Mister Hammer Ed remembered just one simple thing: The girl known as Sylph had just eaten a grip of Rad Scorpion Meat.

"I... I... I... don't... feel... so... *BAAAAAARF*" Sylphee said and barfed before she was thrown from Mister Johnny Shakes' / Mister Hammer Ed's back, sending her tumbling through the dirt and coming to rest at Mysterious Mister Robco Robobrain's treads.

"Scuse me!" The girl said, embarrassed by her actions, especially the part where she puked on Mister Johnny Shakes'/Mister Hammer Ed's pants. Looking up at Mysterious Mister Robco Robobrain, she wondered who the hologram was; so she asked.

"Hey Mister! Who are you?" She asked the Hologram, waiting for an answer.

Well I'm done with this for now.-Ed

Johnny Truant woke up to a horrible surprise. He groaned in disgust and irritation, muttering something about 'why is always ME?' and set about getting a rag out of his bag to try and clean the noxious stuff off of his pants. Fifth time this month. I've gotta learn to stay away from the girls with 'sensitive' constitutions. Wait... what the hell happened anyway? Doesn't look like I killed anyone... this time. So I guess there's that. Yeah me... or whatever.

The maze of previously destroyed, and recently re-destroyed buildings the creature was being led through only helped to confirm that Wayne was definitely lost. He watched as raiders and wastelanders ran for cover as they saw the hulking crustacean bearing down on them. Some were stupid enough... or drugged up enough, to attempt to fire on it. One even had a missile launcher, and it did cause some damage. Damage that was promptly healed again as Lurkzilla barfed on him. Every time its attention was diverted, the vertibird fired another volley at it to get its attention back, continuing to lead it to God only knows where.

Looking at his Pip-boy he could see they were heading north. Surprised that his Robobrain hadn't caught up yet he began to fear the worse. It was either destroyed, in the wrong hands, or much further away than he anticipated.

His leg was on fire. He would have to stop soon if he didn't get some Med-X in his system, and the last thing he wasnted to do was stop here, with all those raiders hidden in every nook and cranny. Wayne had been lucky in that he could walk out in the open, just a short distance behind the slow moving, hulking gargantu-crab, without anyone daring to fire at him for fear of what they may attract. He winced, gritted his teeth and decided it best to just endure the pain. He drew out the 10mm pistol though, just in case.

"On second thoughts, could you give me a few more instructions on how to get somewhere I can access the Enclave files? Talking too much might get me discovered. And get you nowhere." Said William, still waiting at the second grate. He was careful to remind them that just killing him was a waste of their time.

William took a moment to look at himself, his shirt was dirty and creased, a bloodstain beneath the collar on the left side from where his mad assailant had scratched him. The tie was red though and the blood didn't show so much, but William knew it was there. The waistcoat seemed, for the most part, untarnished. The dusts of the wasteland clung to it slightly but with the recent time spent indoors most of it had brushed off. His boots were tough and survived well, thankfully.

Waiting alone in the dark, William waited for the voice on the other end of the collar to tell him where to go.

Frank placed his sister's rifle on the workbench in his old workshop.


[Perception]Screws were melted, just going to have to brute force the frame open.
[Strength]Frank tore off the left panel of the rifle frame.
[Repair 100/75][Success!]It looked like none of the modifications were damaged, just the regular laser rifle components.
Frank grabbed some spare laser rifle parts from a drawer, and placed them on the left side of the workbench.
Frank then began methodically removing the melted parts and placing them on the right side of the workbench.
Frank then began replacing the removed parts.
[Maintainence]Frank then took some scrap electronics and set up an inhibitor switch for the breeder on the handle of the rifle. This would enable the rifle to be shot without consuming the breeder charge while the breeder still built a charge. This would also enable the rifle to be shot with max charge cells without destroying it.
[Jury Rigging] While considering the shortcomings of the rifle, Frank thought about how it wasn't ideal for close-range combat, and there was a way around that.
Frank grabbed some more rifle parts, some scrap electronics, and a prism lens.
[Energy Weapons 85/50][Repair 100/50][Success!] The back half of a laser rifle is where most of the electronic bets were stored. The front half was mostly focusing lenses. what Frank had planned was perfectly possible.
Frank swapped the regular final lens of the spare rifle with the prism lens, detached the back half, of the spare rifle, bolted the front underneath Danielle's rifle's barrel, wired it into the rifles electronics, and installed another switch on the rifle's handle. The rifle could now switch between sharpshooting and shotgun roles.
Frank closed up all the open parts, and put in some finishing touches.
Some might say the rifle was bulky, over-designed, and unwieldy. Frank would say it fills all roles, and that was worth the weight tradeoff.
"Pretty damn good if I do say so myself!"

 Pages PREV 1 . . . 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 . . . 49 NEXT

Reply to Thread

Log in or Register to Comment
Have an account? Login below:
With Facebook:Login With Facebook
or
Username:  
Password:  
  
Not registered? To sign up for an account with The Escapist:
Register With Facebook
Register With Facebook
or
Register for a free account here