Miss Vicious , Her saga and story... Options

[Renee]

Chapter One: Miss Vicious Delicious

Date: August 19, 2277, 11:06 AM

Location: VAPL-66 Power Station

They called them raiders, Takana and Neeptu. Social and demographic miscreants who nobody would touch. Nobody would accept. Not the Enclave. Not even Talon Company. Collectively, they were groups of young adults who lived each day as though it'd be their very last. Because often it was their very last.

As the Psycho they'd squeezed into their arms took brilliant effect, both of them were sizzling.

The common misfit known as Neeptu Daalu steadied himself, and squinted his eyes. "See? See her now?" he asked his partner. "Told ya there's a wastelander out there! The little b----. Look how she's dressed. In a freeking Parkstroller! Prob'ly good for a few caps." He was speaking loudly, his booming voice being echoed by a nearby overpass.

"Haah? I don't see a thing," said Takana Topov, Neeptu's partner. Takana had done well as a dancer, far away at Dukov's place. But she'd done even better as a thief.

Together, Takana and Neeptu had plotted to steal hundreds of caps from her former employer. And they had been successful at this. In fact, the job had been easy. Neeptu pretended to be a john while Takana depleted some of Dukov's stash of cash. It was over in less than a minute, their getaway boat floating just meters away. Then the good life had begun. They'd finally been able to afford Psycho, Jet, and all sorts of other goodies, which had been clouding their judgment for days.

"Ya need some glasses!" Neeptu announced. "C'mon, just follow me!"

The pair scrambled off. They readied their pieces: Takana's pistol went *clink!*, and Neeptu's went *shink!* ... but neither of them could possibly know their prey was not some gentle lamb who'd cry and run.

"Oh hell no!" The lady in the Parkstroller brandished her only weapon, a rusted old iron tool.

She went to work. Jumping, hopping, and skipping around the raiders and their clumsy efforts at gun play. ...Bam! ... Crash!... At close quarters, their Chinese pistols were next to useless. The lady in the Parkstroller might never be as good with a hand weapon as the cannibalistic fiend known as Rattler, but as a member of the 'raider' demographic herself, neither was she somebody to try messing with.

----------------------------------------

Takana Topov

Neeptu Daalu takes a beating

"Oh hell no!"

Unexpected help

Goo' boy!!!

Miss Vicious Delicious throws away her Parkstroller for something new

This post has been edited by Renee: Jan 21 2022, 03:09 PM

[Renee]

Acadian: Yes exactly, on the snooty behavior of Tenenny residents! I didn't quote one of them exactly, but that's pretty much how several tenants speak to our character. But at least the Tenpenny residents often have a smile in their voices. To get into the spirit of Fallout games, you have to sometimes imagine the way people are in 1950s TV shows: a lot of Pollyanna types, falsely cheerful, and so on. I'm sure you've seen this in some of the billboards SubRosa has imgur'd in the past.

SubRosa: Shoot, I'm not sure where she is in that final picture. It is just to the southeast of Tenpenny Tower. Lucky Shades??? Yikes, I think we missed those, assuming we're talking about the same place.

Lopovuh: Yes, that's the merchant who can sell or repair robots! It's up for interpretation whether Tenpenny is twelve or thirteen floors. She counted 13.

Janet the Floozie gets featured again in this next chapter. Janet is partially based upon a real-life friend I had back until 2016 or so who I often referred to as my "homeless friend." My homeless friend had a lot of bad traits (drugs, wanton relationships, and so on), but one of the better traits she had was a love of word games, crosswords, and Sudoku.

.........

I've got a head full of drought
Down here
So far off of losing out
Round here
Overground, watch this space
I'm open, falling from grace.


Date: Tuesday, August 21, 2277


"Oh ma gosh what the hell?!"

The blonde named Janet laughed hysterically. "What the flip?" She nearly lost balance, even though she was sitting down. She then dabbed her latest cigarette straight into her drink. And realized she hadn't finished either her drink or the cigarette. "Ah ... damn."

"Hey, you said you wanted a action verb, Vicious replied calmly. "That's all I could think of." She smiled and shrugged. Though she had also been drinking. she was being much more cautious about it, being in a strange place with one very strange person, and all.

"Did you mean to say that like I think you meant to say that, like?... you really meant it like that way?" Janet hiccupped.

"Uh... what way is that. Like?" Vicious fought a smirk, without much success. Not that Janet noticed.

The pair had become fast friends, it might seem. Janet Telia had been right about one thing: despite having a large, constantly-armed presence of guards, Tenpenny Tower was full of residents who were mostly clueless about locking their doors, and keeping watch over their own possessions. After just one hour, Janet and Vicious had managed to score a bottle of whiskey, two packs more of Lucky Strikes, some Nuka Cola, and a silver carafe to mix it all together. Then they sauntered casually back to an apartment up in Tenpenny's 'suite' area to have a little blast. Janet explained that this apartment was not really hers, but someone named Susan Lancaster was allowing Janet to crash on her couch for a few days.

But there was something about Janet which Vicious could not exactly ... trust? Was that the word she was trying for?

"I need a... a.... *HIC!* ... a verb," Janet continued.

"Hmm... how about roll?"

"Roll! ... R-- *HIC!* Roll! ... How about a adjective?"

"Mmm. Bestest!"

"Bes--*HIC!* est? That's not a word!"

Her new friend Miss Vicious cocked her head slightly. Shrugged.

"Okay, whatever. One *hic!* more. I need a ... a possessive noun."

"A what?"

"Like... a dog's bone. Or a ... *HIC*... dammit! Damn hiccups!" Janet made some sort of movement with her head, rolling it backwards. After a few moments, Vicious realized the blonde was holding her breath.

"You still tryin' to get rid of those hiccups!" Vicious chucked. "'kay, I'll say Janet's hiccups for the possessive noun."

Janet made a notation with her pencil. Sat still, apparently still holding her breath. Breathed in. Her face was red, by now. Exhaled slowly, while pointing her index finger upwards. Lit a cigarette. Waited, with her finger up in the air again. Then finally, made an OK sign.

"You okay?" Vicious chuckled again.

"I think so. Ready? On the stupid road trip to Megaton, my vicious friend and I decided to invent a game."

"Nice. I ain't never heard of this game before. What's it called again?"

"Bad Libs! It's a Pre-War game. We had tons of them back in the vault."

"I see." Vicious sipped her whiskey / cola concoction. "Continue."

"Since this would be a rather funky trip, it would need to be a game with sports bras and farriers. Using our Rad-X to snort, we tried to get the deathclaw next to us to play too, but it just sucked at us and exploded away!"

"Oh my guwd," Miss Vicious laughed. "This is so stupid!" She rolled onto her side, covering her ear mockingly.

"After a few rounds, we thought the game could use some kisses, so we turned on the bastard and started dancing to the vibrator that came on. This lasted for thirteen hours before I got red and decided to blow. I'll never roll that trip. It was the bestest trip of my Janet's hiccups."

By now, Vicious was rolling on the couch. She had her face in a pillow. "Oh ma god what the flip? That's so flipped!" She chuckled again. Sat up and finished her drink. "Hey, I needed that. You don't know what it's like out there. Well. I guess you do know, if you got here really from West Virginia. You really came all that way?"

"Sure I did!" Janet quipped. "Hey, want to try another? Maybe help me with this crossword .... oh shoot."

"What?"

Janet was looking down at her left wrist. Her Pipboy device. She clicked on a button. "It's five-thirty, and that means Anthony Ling will be expecting me!" She got up suddenly, her Bad Libs pad falling to the floor. She rushed over to a mirror, and began primping her hair. "I gotta run. Got some caps to make!"

"Huh? Caps?"

"Uh-huh. This dude Anthony. he like, has lots of them! I suck his *rooster* once in awhile. Make a little extra here and there, y'know? It's all good fun, and he is, like, all the other residents around here, squeaky-clean." She paused, and looked at Vicious. "Hope you ain't offended! It's just until I hear from my brother."

"Right, your brother. Over at Fort Bannister. The ... Talon Company merc," Vicious tried to hide the doubt in her voice. Her brother. A sergeant over at Fort Bannister. And Janet. She had rode all the way here from West Virginia until her motorcycle broke down. Yuh. And I am Queen of the Ghouls she thought. But if there were any doubt in Miss Vicious Delicious's voice, certainly none of it was noticed by the drunkened, determined-to-make-some-caps Janet Telia.

"Just stay here!" Janet scream-whispered. "You can sleep on this couch for awhile! I'll be back in a half-hour or so."

And then, gone was the blonde bombshell of a bimbo who, oddly, loved word games. Gone she was, the perfume she'd just sprayed (and probably stole) trailing behind her. Miss Vicious, left to sit awkwardly upon the couch of some woman she'd never even met. Susan Lanca-something. What would this woman say, if she turned up early from whatever posh event (cocktail party, mani-pedi appointment...) she was most-likely holding this afternoon?

One thing was for sure. Tenpenny Towers? Miss Vicious Delicious did not belong here. Let Tenpenny and all thirteen of its floors fall and crumble to pieces some day. Gone she was, back where she belonged. Back to the Capitol Wasteland. This was her sudden decision.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After spending the night in a small, abandoned building nearby, Vicious awoke the next morning to the sound of something roaring around Tenpenny. It was a sound she had never heard before. Something motorized, perhaps a vertibird. She thought of getting closer to the tower. Maybe get a better look. But then, changed her mind. That sound was loud. What if the place was getting attacked?

She reached into her backpack, and pulled out her handheld device. Pressed a few buttons, scrolled sideways, and the sound of Janet's strange vault music filed the air. Janet had somehow moved a bunch of songs from her Pipboy onto Vicious's device. "Well one thing's for sure, she may be a liar and a whore, but I did have some good times and I love this music."

The motorized noise (whatever it was) continued an eighth of a mile away, over at Tenpenny. A cloud of dust was kicking into the air, near the tower's front gate.

Could it be? she asked herself. Naaah.

-------------------------

Road Trip Mad Libs page

Janet needs a verb

One of Janet's "vault music" songs

This post has been edited by Renee: Aug 9 2020, 07:05 PM