Fallout: Florida , The Sunshine State's Post-Apocalyptic Wastes Options

[RaderOfTheLostArk]

Well, I never thought I'd be posting in this particular subforum before now. But with all these ideas bouncing in my head of what post-Great War Florida would look like in the Fallout universe, I have taken to jotting them down and (hopefully) making a cohesive guide to it. I don't really write fiction, so I don't think I'll be writing actual stories like you all do, but I suppose we'll see. For the time being, it's really going to be a guide of sorts, somewhat like a wiki or what textbooks would say.

This will obviously attempt to adhere to Fallout canon as much as possible. I chose Florida as the setting not only because it is my home state (though that is definitely the biggest reason) but because, from what I can tell, so little about the Southeastern United States is talked about in Fallout lore, giving me a lot more room to operate in. And, of course, it's the state I know best and would love to see the most as a setting for a Fallout game.

So here's the plan for all this:
[*] I'm going to break up each section of the guide into its own post to separate it sufficiently. This one will be the introduction to the setting.
[*] I may include some incomplete information on here for several reasons. For one, it'll be an easy repository to refer to just in case the Word doc I am using has something go screwy or that my computer messes up or whatever. Two, it can be a little taste of what's to come. Three, I just want to get down as much content as comes to me.
[*] The tentative list of sections to have here include, but are not limited to (and not necessarily in this order):

[*] General overview of the setting and how I am breaking up the parts of Florida
[*] The Bestiary
[*] The Timeline
[*] The Factions
[*] Profiles of each of the regions I am making

Some of the stuff you see will definitely be subject to change if needed to make it cohesive. I'll try to document what I change to make it clear.

And most of all, I hope you all like it and I'd like to hear whatever feedback you have. Presenting and communicating information is one of the things I enjoy most, although I'm more used to doing so for real-life content (particularly political science).

First section of the guide coming up!

The Setting - Basic Overview

While not experiencing the same level of nuclear barrage as places such as Southern California, New York, and D.C., Florida was plunged into nuclear fire just like virtually everywhere else in the world. This was especially true of the Tampa Bay Area, Orlando and its surrounding areas, and South Florida, centers of great economic and political importance in Pre-War America. Being the 3rd-most populous state in the country, the Great War extinguished far more lives than average here and left plenty more to pick up the pieces in the post-apocalyptic, anarchic wastes. The exceptional biological, geographical, and human diversity of Florida led to a far more varied impact on the former Sunshine State when the bombs fell.

Nevertheless, many settlements started to crop up in the decades just after the Great War, even in those once-densely populated cities and metropolitan areas. In time, former towns and cities were beginning to be resurrected and reclaiming their old names, and brand-new ones started to form. But post-War Florida--and the rest of what used to be the country's Gulf Commonwealth, Louisiana, Alabama, and Mississippi--was still highly fractured. In the 22nd century, the first of many ambitious attempts was made to reunite this once-thriving landscape. While extraordinarily difficult at first, a string of successes in reunification gave birth to the Gulf Coast Union, a nation similar in concept to the future New California Republic (NCR). The so-called Great Reunification--a somewhat hyperbolic title, at least currently--started extending through Florida, Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana, and even some of southwestern Georgia, though it has yet to reclaim the whole of any of these former states.

The process is far from completed, however, and many other factions both big and small struggle with the Gulf Coast Union for dominance in the former Southeastern United States. Many of the conflicts take place in what used to be the Sunshine State. The Gulf Coast Union was successful in claiming virtually all of Northern Florida and has made inroads into the Central Florida wastes. Major and minor powers violently feuding with each other and with the Gulf Coast Union have made the GCU's grip on these lands somewhat tenuous, preventing any attempts at expanding into South Florida.

As of this guide, it is currently the year 2130, over a half-century since the world was irrevocably changed. To most easily understand the lands that were once called Florida, it is best to divide the area into ten distinct regions--even if the divisions are a bit crude, arbitrary, or too convenient. Each have their own set of conflicts being waged, major and minor players vying for power, and civilizations trying to carve out a life in these harsh wastes. Welcome to the Sunshine State's post-apocalyptic wastes.

The Ten Regions and Their Counties

County Map
Here's how some coasts in Florida got their nicknames, though not all are explicitly mentioned here

Though these broken-up zones are somewhat crude and arbitrary, it'll be easiest to understand post-apocalyptic Florida this way. However, major conflicts in one region can definitely spill over into another.

1) Panhandle (13): Escambia, Santa Rosa, Okaloosa, Walton, Holmes, Washington, Bay, Jackson, Calhoun, Gulf, Liberty, Franklin, Gadsden
2) Big Bend (8): Leon, Wakulla, Jefferson, Madison, Taylor, Lafayette, Dixie, Levy
3) North Central Florida (8): Hamilton, Suwannee, Columbia, Baker, Union, Bradford, Alachua, Gilchrist
4) The First Coast (6): Nassau, Duval, Clay, St. Johns, Putnam, Flagler
5) The Space and Treasure Coasts (7): Volusia, Seminole, Brevard, Indian River, St. Lucie, Martin, Okeechobee
6) Central Florida (8): Marion, Sumter, Lake, Orange, Polk, Osceola, Hardee, Highlands
7) The Tampa Bay Area (6): Citrus, Hernando, Pasco, Pinellas, Hillsborough, Manatee
8) The Gold Coast (3): Palm Beach, Broward, Miami-Dade
9) Southwest Florida (7.5): Sarasota, De Soto, Charlotte, Glades, Lee, Hendry, Collier, Monroe (mainland only)
10) The Keys (0.5): Monroe (Keys only)


Just a quick side-note: The Panhandle West/East dichotomy is one I totally made up for my own purposes. They are, as far as I know, not referred to as such in real life. It is just the Panhandle, and the real-world Panhandle doesn't necessarily include all of the counties in Big Bend.

This post has been edited by RaderOfTheLostArk: Jun 9 2020, 01:30 AM

[RaderOfTheLostArk]

And here it is: The first chapter of the Fallout: Florida story. Kind of nervous about posting it, but might as well do it before I decide not to. Hope you enjoy it.

Chapter 1: A Rude Welcome

August 4, 2130

Traversing the Southeastern Wastes almost makes you wish for a nuclear winter.

That is what Mariah thought to herself as the caravan she was riding through what used to the southeastern edge of Alabama, the sun blazing overhead. With her trusty 10MM, a large canteen of water, and a bag full of caps, she caught a ride from Mobile heading down to Pensacola, Florida. A thermometer in her caravan cart read a whopping 98 degrees Fahrenheit.

Mariah did not really give anyone a clear answer as to what the reasons for her travels were—in fact, she was not entirely sure herself. She had been a sojourner for a long time and the thought of her settling down in one place was a foreign concept at this point. Now in her late 20s, she had been all around the wastes of the former United States. But there were a few things that drew Mariah to Florida. She heard about some interesting opportunities to make caps like scouting out the wastes and mercenary work. She was a good shot with her 10MM. She also heard that her grandparents on both sides of her family had lived in Florida.

But that was before the War. The Great War. That fateful day that humanity, desperate to tear itself apart over the remaining resources on Earth, bathed itself in nuclear fire, plunging the world into a new, chaotic era. On October 23, 2077, the world’s major powers all launched nukes at each other in a two-hour span of mutual assured destruction. It may have been over 50 years ago at this point, but occasionally Mariah met a wastelander or two that lived before the War (or so they claimed, at least). It seemed more likely to be true whenever she met a ghoul, though even then you could not always be sure. It seemed so long ago, but the oldest living generations still seemed to bear fresh scars from the tragedy.

It apparently could be ridiculously hot in the summer months for much of the Pre-War southeastern United States, particularly Florida, as Mariah was told. Clearly, the bombs did nothing to improve the weather’s disposition, as indicated by the temperature and humidity. The distance was hazy. Looks like leather armor was a bad choice, Mariah thought to herself as she tried to cool herself off in the shade of the caravan tarp and sipped from her canteen. But the wastes could be a dangerous place, and the leather armor was the best protection she could get for now. If she had to profusely sweat in this heat, at least she had some defense in case of an ambush.

At least Mariah was not the only one having to suffer the heat. The convoy heading to Pensacola had multiple carts being pulled by Brahmin, with plenty of goods for trade in tow. The driver for Mariah’s particular cart, a Hispanic man in his 50s by the name of Gabriel, had been doing this for over two decades now. While she made conversation with him and did not want to be standoffish, Mariah also had a policy of being very careful about what she told people about her life story. Gabriel didn’t seem to mind though. Understanding, even.

“Ah, here comes the Alabama/Florida border.” Gabriel said triumphantly as they came up on a Pre-War sign indicating the approach of the state line. “Welcome to Florida!” the sign read, though the greeting and the state outline were heavily faded. The sign was beat up so badly at this point that the last Florida governor’s name was not readable at all.

“Do your travels take you here often?” Mariah struck up conversation with Gabriel again.

“Oh, plenty. The weather may be a mean old [censored], but there is a lot to like about Florida. Well, what used to be Florida anyway. Used to be one of the go-to tourist destinations before the world went to hell in a handbasket. You can even still see some remnants of that depending on where you go. But most importantly…” Gabriel paused as he turned his head to Mariah and smiled while patting his pouch of caps. “Lot of these bad boys to be made through these routes.”

“Have you gotten to visit much of Florida?”

“Sadly, no.” Gabriel shrugged. “I try to stick to GCU territory.” He was referring to the Gulf Coast Union, a conglomeration of states that arose from the ashes of Florida, Alabama, Mississippi, and Louisiana—parts of them, anyway. They used to be part of the Gulf Commonwealth in the Pre-War United States. Fledgling states managed to rise up some time after the War—an impressive feat in a relatively short span of time after the Great War—and they eventually made a compact that formed one nation, the Gulf Coast Union. Mariah did not know a whole lot about them, but she had spent enough time in their lands to have some familiarity with them. Gabriel continued. “You hear all sorts of crazy things going on outside the borders, and there’s already enough going on within them too.”

This topic Mariah heard more about. “Oh yeah, I’ve heard people talk about some of it, but I haven’t really gotten any clear information about them. You know anything about these guys making all this trouble lately?”

“Apparently you got a couple of troublemaking groups. Some hooligans from Alabama that got their pants in a bunch about the GCU. Think they’re being oppressed or something. I don’t know, the GCU has been pretty good to me. Making plenty of caps. I can’t imagine they’re having it that bad. Always got to have somebody complaining about something, I suppose.”

Mariah then suddenly remembered one of the names she heard about the groups. “The Alabama Dissidents, that’s their name. Or at least one of them. I remember that now. Heard about them in a bar in Mobile before the caravans left. Seemed like there were a few sympathizers in town, too. They call themselves freedom fighters or something along those lines.”

“Ah yeah, right. I heard basically the same thing too.” Gabriel chuckled. “Well, in any case, I ain’t too worried about them. Now those other guys…”

“What other guys?”

“Call themselves the Brotherhood of Steel or something. I ain’t ever seen one, but from what I have heard they don’t mess around. Few enough sightings that some people don’t even believe they are around here. They got those guns that fire laser beams and their armor makes them look like machines. What’s it called? Power Armor, that’s what they wear. Apparently rolled out by the U.S. military before humanity decided to blow itself up.” Gabriel paused again, then sighed.

Mariah wondered aloud, “What would they be out here for? I heard a lot about them further west. They are apparently pretty active in the midwest. But Florida is way far out from where they should be.”

“Guess they think something big is around these parts. They got a lot of pre-War technology on their side, but they seem to think it’s their divine right to hoard it all for themselves. Supposedly, anyway. It’s what I’ve heard from some people, though I don’t know how they would know about it. Guess they’ve come up to one of those Brotherhood guys in person. But again, there have been relatively few sightings of them. Most people think it’s just some myth that has been cooked up to scare people more than they already are.”

Mariah was impressed by how much Gabriel knew about the goings-on of the land. “You’re really on top of things here, Gabriel.”

“Ha!” Gabriel turned back to her again and smiled. “My dear, when you have been doing this gig as long as I have, you hear all kinds of stories. I’ve heard about all sorts of creatures further down in Florida like these giant, walking gators, for example. Sometimes hard to tell what’s true, but this kind of stuff I have heard a lot around here. That’s why the caravan companies pay so well to carry cargo across these parts. It’s all that danger. Honestly, though, I don’t worry too much about it.”

Mariah was puzzled at that last remark. The Brotherhood certainly sounded like a force to be reckoned with, and the presence of the Alabama Dissidents must have only made the situation worse. “I don’t know, Gabriel. I’m fairly confident in my ability to defend myself, but these guys sound like serious business. I mean, energy weapons? Power armor?”

Gabriel simply shrugged again. “Can’t tell you why. I guess doing this for so long and having relatively little trouble makes you feel like you’re invincible or something. Like those people who think that bad things can’t happen to them but then they do. I suppose you got a point.” Gabriel took a swig from his canteen and then bit into some Squirrel Bits. “At the same time, I try to keep calm. Not just for myself, but for my passengers, you know?”

Gabriel sat there for a moment and then turned to Mariah again. “But you make sure you take care of yourself, you hear? I don’t want to sound like a creepy old guy, but you are an exceptionally beautiful young lady out here in these desolate wastes.” He was right. Mariah was a strikingly attractive woman, with a slender build, fair skin, and blonde hair that was straight on one side and had several slight curls on the other side. Some people called it ‘the seductress’ haircut. “I can tell you can defend yourself well, but there are a lot of creeps that roam about. And they will not hesitate to do…awful things to you.” He started tearing up at the thought.

Mariah suddenly became concerned. “Are you okay, Gabriel? Did something happen to someone you know?”

“No, no, no, no, no.” Gabriel regained his composure. “It’s just…I have a daughter right about your age. Fortunately, nothing terrible has happened to her. In fact, she lives in the city we are heading to now, Pensacola. But it’s something that comes to mind a lot and I’ve heard many horror stories about raider groups. I can’t help but think about some of these worst-case scenarios. Especially since my wife died several years ago. Now my daughter is all I have left. She’s a tough cookie like yourself, but…”

Mariah almost teared up herself. The only thing she could think of was to pat her hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry to hear about your wife, Gabriel. You’re a good man and your daughter is lucky to have you.”

Gabriel turned to her again and flashed a smile, clasping her hand for a moment. “Thank you, sweetheart. You’re a good kid. Whatever you’re looking for out here, I hope you find it.” He then pointed to a long box in the caravan to Mariah’s right. “There, open that box.”

Mariah did as he said and pulled out a sword from the box. It was a light blade, but she could tell that it could do some serious, quick damage when effectively used. “Wow, this is an impressive blade. How’d you come across it?”

Gabriel didn’t answer the question, but instead simply said, “It’s yours.”

“What? I’m sorry Gabriel, I can’t take…”

“Please, Mariah.” There was some urgency in his voice. “You can make much better use of it than I can. I don’t know if you have much training with melee weapons, but I think it will serve you well. You got yourself a firearm, sure, but if you run out of bullets or you are in close quarters, this sword will be your best friend.”

Mariah stuttered, not sure what to say. “I…I’m honored, Gabriel. Thank you for entrusting this to me. I’ll do you proud.”

“My pleasure. And hey, you can remember me by it, too.” Gabriel turned back and smiled at her. Mariah smiled back as well, but she wished she had something to give him in return. But he must have sensed it. “And don’t worry about giving me anything. It’s a gift. Besides…” He tapped his pouch of caps again and laughed. “I got plenty of these coming my way at the end of this. I can just buy another weapon.”

Mariah laughed too. But the touching moment was cut short when gunfire suddenly erupted. Chaos ensued as the Brahmin became frightened, carts were toppled over, and the protectors for the caravan were caught off-guard. Mariah was flown off her cart by the scared Brahmin pulling it and landed face down in the dirt as the cart pinned one of her legs down. She was disoriented for a moment and could not see what was going on, only hearing the exchanges of bullets between the caravan guards and what ostensibly was some roving band of raiders. Lots of words were being shouted back and forth too, but it was hard to make out what was being said in all the commotion.

When she regained her bearings, she pulled herself out from under the cart that was now her cover and whipped out her 10MM pistol. There was no gunfire coming her way, giving her the chance to survey the attackers and return fire. That’s when she noticed a particular patch on the armor they were wearing. She couldn’t make out all of it, but she did notice the shape of Pre-War Alabama with several stars around it.

These were no ordinary raiders. They were Alabama Dissidents.

Mariah then cocked her pistol and took careful aim, killing three Dissidents with as many bullets. But she hadn’t noticed the Dissident sneaking up behind her, who must have somehow lost his firearm since he was coming up to her with a blade.

Right as she noticed his presence, she gasped and turned toward him, fearing that she would not react in time. But as soon as the enemy was ready to plunge his blade into her, the caravan driver Gabriel yelled, coming out of nowhere and tackling the Dissident to the ground. They struggled, constantly changing position and preventing Mariah from taking a clear shot at the Dissident. But the Dissident had another dagger in his belt, taking it out and plunging it into Gabriel’s chest.

It was at that point that Mariah seemingly lost consciousness as rage took her over. She took Gabriel’s sword and charged at the Dissident, thrusting the sword multiple times in weak points in his armor. After several agonized screams, the Dissident met his end as she slashed his throat. He dropped to the ground, his face frozen in terror.

The Dissidents had decimated the caravan guard and were about to turn their attention to Mariah, when suddenly something else caught their attention. “[Censored]! Sentinels! Fall back!” one of the Dissidents yelled. They were referring to Gulf Coast Union Sentinels, an elite group of GCU soldiers, who were out on patrol near Pensacola. The Sentinels quickly made their way over to the caravan wreckage and made quick work of most of the living Dissidents, having far better equipment than the attackers. A few of the Dissidents made a run for it, and one of the Sentinels, clearly one of those in charge, sent some soldiers to chase them down.

One of them uttered in disgust, “Damn it, we were too late!”

Mariah was on her knees over Gabriel, who was drawing his last breaths. He turned to her. “Take care of yourself, Mariah. My daughter, Valentina…she works for the GCU in town. Introduce yourself…and tell her…I love her.” Gabriel bled out, the last casualty of the caravan. Over half of its members—travelers, guards, and drivers—had been murdered at the hands of the Dissidents. Mariah felt too much shock at all that had transpired to cry. It certainly wasn’t the first time she had seen tragedy in the post-apocalypse. But the same could go for almost everybody.

One the GCU Sentinels, an imposing Haitian man measuring 6-and-a-half-feet tall, approached Mariah. He only had a faint accent from his homeland, suggesting he had been born there but moved to post-War America a long time ago. “It’s okay. It’s over now. I’m Commander Bertrand,” the Sentinel said in his resonant voice. “Here, let me give you a hand.”

Mariah took his hand and pulled herself up. “Thanks,” she said in barely more than a mumble.

“Sounds from other survivors here that much of the thanks goes to you for driving them off,” Bertrand said, pointing to several of the living members of the caravan. “Hell of a job, from what I hear. I’m sure it doesn’t mean much, but…”

“Why did this happen?! Where was the GCU?!” Mariah blurted, cutting Bertrand off. She wasn’t in the mood for accepting some meaningless accolades.

Bertrand didn’t argue with her, simply explaining, “We were tipped off by one of our scouts that there was Dissident activity this way, though he was only by himself and couldn’t take them on. We tried getting over here as soon as we could. And we came late…again.” Bertrand turned to the corpse of the Dissident that Mariah had eviscerated and kicked it. “Son of a [censored]!”

Mariah was still fuming, but she at least appreciated Bertrand’s honesty and the fact that he didn’t make up some excuse. She toned her anger down. “I hear this has been going on a lot lately. How is the GCU not putting a stop to this?”

“It’s only recently that these guys have been getting this bold. But don’t worry, we’ll put an end to it.”

“It would’ve been helpful if you had already done it,” Mariah sniped back, apparently disregarding Bertrand’s huge size advantage. She was too angry to care about his imposing figure. But Bertrand still didn’t get upset at her attitude. Rather, he understood it.

“I know. I promise you we’re trying.”

One of the soldiers, a white man shorter than Bertrand but still muscular and tall, called out. He was one of the soldiers who chased down the fleeing Dissidents. “Commander Bertrand! We got a live one!”

Mariah and Bertrand turned to see one of the Dissidents wounded but not mortally. He was groaning, clutching his shoulder and having some trouble standing.

“Nice work, Jacob. Take his [censored] down to the station. We’ll get information out of him,” Bertrand said. He then turned to Mariah. “Look, maybe you can help us out. You helped defend this caravan. You might know something about these guys—the Dissidents—that we don’t. Anything you heard or saw. Anything helps. But first, let’s get you and the others to town. You can rest up a bit and then we’ll contact you.”

Mariah was still upset but had cooled off. She sighed. “Yeah. I can do that. This is my first time in this town, though. I don’t really know anything about it.”

“Very well. Jacob!”

Officer Jacob walked over to Bertrand. “Yes, sir?”

“Please see this young lady—”

“Mariah.” Mariah interjected. “The name’s Mariah.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mariah. Jacob, please see Mariah to town. Show her the ropes of Pensacola. We’ll need her at the station later but let her relax a bit. Everyone here has been through a lot.”

“Yes, sir.” Jacob said. “Please follow me, Mariah.”

//////////

The survivors were brought into Pensacola, though Jacob and Mariah departed from the group. They walked down one of the main streets, with him telling her a bit about the town and where some of the major establishments were. As per her personal policy, Mariah did not say much about her background, but Jacob understood. “Can’t be too careful, these days,” he shrugged. “Especially when you come to a new area.” Mariah appreciated his understanding. She did tell him a little bit about things such as where she had traveled, where she was coming from to Pensacola, and some of the things she had heard about pre-War Florida.

Jacob brought her to one of the bars in town called The Blue Angel. It was a reference to a pre-War U.S. Navy flight team based in Pensacola that did air shows around Florida. Posters for the Blue Angels could still be seen around the town, although they were mostly faded and worn away. Pretty impressive that they are still there at all, Mariah thought. The Great War was already over a half-century ago.

When they walked in, they both ordered drinks at the bar. As Mariah reached for her caps, Jacob waved his hand. “This one’s on me.”

“Oh. Well, thanks.”

“Yeah, well, you deserve it after helping push back those Dissidents from the caravan.”

Mariah relaxed some more, telling a few stories of her travels. Jacob, in turn, talked about some of the GCU missions he had been on. They had been talking for about half an hour, listening to each other’s stories so intently that they initially didn’t notice the beautiful Hispanic woman with a black-haired ponytail in GCU attire approach them. “Jacob, it’s time. We’re questioning the captive from the caravan attack at the station.”

“Great. Thanks, Valentina. I’ll do my best not to break the [censored]’s face.”

“Wait, Valentina?” Mariah said. “I’m Mariah. You must be Gabriel’s daughter. He was my caravan driver. I’m…I’m sorry for your loss. He wanted me to introduce myself and asked me to make sure you know that his last words were that he loves you.”

Valentina stood still for a moment. She was clearly trying to hold back her emotions. After clearing her throat, she said, “I appreciate that, Mariah. Thanks. And nice to meet you. Are you ready to come to the station?”

Mariah took a deep breath. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

This post has been edited by RaderOfTheLostArk: Aug 2 2020, 05:38 AM