Miss Vicious Delicious, 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.

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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]

SubRosa -- Yes beds are sleepable in Common House, although as Khajiit says, they might not be this way in the vanilla game. At this point I could have installed some mod by now which made them this way, not sure. I wonder if I even SetOwneship to a bed, then forgot about this! Could be.

Acadian -- Aw, hey thanks! I spent two entire in-game days in real-time to write that last chapter. No waiting, although hours did pass more quickly as she slept a couple times.

I think she may be related to the Weet Bandit in spirit. Like a reincarnation kind of thing.

Lopov -- No Lopov.


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

Anyone 'lucky' enough to live and grow during the Twenty-Third century Anno Domini would have faced and witnessed plenty of situations unfamiliar to those who'd lived and grew during the Twenty-First.

Motorized transportation, for example. A necessary facet of the past, now permanently halted -- equating to hunks of scrap metal at best. The concept of real estate only existed if one had enough guns and ammo to protect it. Malls and markets and refineries and industrial firms and car dealerships which once generated piles of cash, now inhabited by monsters and outlaws. Indeed, the use of the word "outlaw" is in fact an untruth. How could somebody be an outlaw if there was no law?

The notion of law. Here was one idea from the past which Lucas Simms tried to bring into the present, for better or worse. Law and justice, retained from history books, would hopefully equate to order. In Megaton, at least.

During his tenure as "mayor" and sheriff there had been a number of thefts, a smattering of unprovoked assaults, and even one murder. These incidents were uncommon, but when they occurred everyone would throw their hands up, as if to say that's how it goes, nowadays.

Wasteland Justice, this was called. The furor which took place after each of these incidents was never pretty. Suddenly it became 'every man for himself', as the saying goes. Whoever caused one of these incidents (known as "crimes" in the history books) was suddenly surrounded, quickly beaten down by others. Gunfire would erupt from Moriarty's, perhaps. The incident-causer (known as a "criminal" or "perp" in the history books) would be chased out of town, at best. Killed on the spot, at worst. At the most extreme, occasional innocent dwellers of Megaton had gotten caught in moments of friendly fire, as everyone clamored to get a shot into the perp at once. Shots would get fired, but somebody would miss, and some guy or gal unrelated to the original crime would now have some lead in his or her gut. Technically there were now two perps, if we're to go by how law worked in those books from the past.

In the spring of 2277, Sherriff Simms decided to broaden his role to Mayor Simms. Lucas had been the one who'd been enacting whatever rules there were in Megaton, now he'd be the one writing those rules, as well. "I am your sheriff," he told his townspeople, "and now I'll also be your mayor, when the need arises."

It had indeed arisen in his opinion, and in the opinion of plenty others. Some folks preferred the way it was, while others wished to see themselves thrust out of their somewhat barbaric way of doing things. "Some of us have children, you know..." these latter folks argued most convincingly.

Wheels rolled into motion quickly. Lucas read those books, and then drafted a slew of ideas. He explained them all to other prominent members of Megaton society, many of whom had no idea how things were once done. These book-ideas became The Law of Megaton. Caps were allocated. A couple of tough-looking goons from Tenpenny Tower were hired. Both were deputized as officers, earning 30 caps a day, plus free lodging.

The final approved motion was made for what would become Megaton's jail. Over the summer, a Quonset-styled hut was built just outside of town. Here was Megaton's jail, where the perps, the criminals, would be taken, assuming they chose to be incarcerated instead of paying caps. As for those who resisted arrest? They'd face a bit of Wasteland Justice, just like in the old days.

Taneesha did not wish to face the 'old days' sort of justice, nor did she pay any caps to rid her crime. So it was into the Quonset-styled jail (off to the slammer, as they say) she'd been brought the night before.

[][][][][][][][][][][]

11:22 PM. Sunday, August 27, 2277

They told her she'd be locked for 24 hours, which didn't sound so bad. What they didn't tell her was who (what) she'd be locked up with.

Clank.... fwa ... Clank! ...fwa.... Clank!...fwa

Jail Bot, a two-hundred forty year-old RobCo Protectron, clanked her way, stood in one of its three destinated patrol spots. Jail Bot had been programmed to walk in a triangular pattern on the other side of her cell's gate, over and over. According to those who brought her here, the bot had also been programmed to dispense food, and would be in charge of unlocking the gate when her sentence was over.

Taneesha poised herself awkwardly before her cell's gate. "So, you are supposed to give me food, right? Well I'm hungry."

"Protect. And. Serve.," the robot answered, before clanking away.

They'd taken away all her things, but oddly allowed her to keep her solar-powered handheld device. She powered this on. Checked the time. 23:16 it said. According to the jail's rulebook, it was too late to get food; Jail Bot had been programmed to do so only in the morning and early evening, and it was now nearer to midnight. But she didn't care. She was hungry! She'd try again.

She waited 30 seconds for the robot to return in front of her cell. "Hey you *flipping* *bleeping* hunk of junk, I said I want more food! You gonna give me some, or what?"

"Protect. And. Serve."

"Oh my god."

Another 30 seconds, the robot clanked its patrol.

"Hey, Sorry I called you a *flipping* hunk of junk. But really. You can't give me no food right now? I am a human being. And we human beings use something called food for energy. We aren't powered by nuclear fission, or whatever the heck. Come on, just once. Break the rules. I won't say nothing."

"Mooove. Along. Please."

"Oh my god. Lord help me."

It would be the longest 24 hours of her life, it seemed.

[][][][][][][][][][][]

8:44 AM. Monday, August 27, 2277

'Hungry ... pard'ner?" Jail Bot asked the next morning, to Taneesha's relief. She had a small hangover after last night's drinking session, and was worried the damn thing might not feed her at all. It would malfunction, or whatever. She'd be stuck in here for days, a corpse by the time they found her. "I have a .. deelightful ... Assortment of food."

She was given a stick of squirrel meat, a box of Sugar Bombs, and a Nuka Cola. Yum. She ate with a near sort of fervor, then laid back on the jail's cot. Tried to sleep, but she'd already slept the previous night, so this was impossible. She checked her device. Sixteen hours to go.

Oh lord help me



Being cooped up in here. Nothing to do. Not even a book to read. Bored. She had never been so bored.

She found a rusty nail on the floor, something which they had apparently missed while cleaning up. She grabbed the nail. Began to scratch it onto a nearby wall, seeing if it would leave any marks. It did. So she scratched her name onto the wall. But not her real name.

VICIOUS 2277

She carved into the wall's corrugated metal, the rusted nail making little shrieking noises as she worked. There. She left her mark. Looked over at the Jail Bot, but apparently it had not been programmed to do anything about people who wanted to write or doodle on the jail's walls. Taneesha placed the nail back on the floor, in a rather obvious spot. Mm hmm. Let the next guest of this wholesome and fine establisment also carve his or her mark.

Four more hours of this madness. Though the jail was air-conditioned, it got quite warm as its prisoner stirred. Taneesha continued to doodle on her wall. And then finally, Jail Bot's release programming kicked in.

"You have. Serrrved. All your time," its metallic voice blared. "You ... are ... now ... free to go."

Taneesha grinned, and checked her device. They said she'd be locked for 24 hours, but only 13 had passed. This seemed to be a glitch, but a welcome one, of course. She opened the gate, and stepped back to freedom.

"Please. Remove your things... from. The evidence ... locker. Before you go."

Taneesha Jones did so, opening the locker in which they'd stored her things. One Chinese pistol, one outfit made of brahmin skin, her container of Abraxo Cleaner, one cheap plastic ashtray. A bobby pin, one pack of cigarettes. And finally, her empty hypodermic needle. Taneesha looked for the lead pipe she'd been using as a hand weapon, but remembered she'd left this behind somewhere. Or maybe it'd been stolen. Her 10 millimeter rounds were not in the locker. But this was no matter, she'd simply scavenge some more, at some point. But for now, she was free!

Once outside, she spent just a few seconds breathing precious Wasteland air before a vicious mongrel of a dog attacked. Taneesha reached for her pistol, only to remember it was unloaded. "Dammit!" The dog was on her. It bit her arm. She had no choice but to pummel it with her fist. She high-kicked its face!

"Come on," she said. "I got more of this."

But the battle wasn't going so well. She not wearing armor, and not very good with unarmed combat. Really missing that old, rusted pipe. Angered and frustrated, she scurried around the jail's side. The dog bit at her again, snapping at her leg! Only this time, it also made a whelping noise. Somebody else had struck it, or something. She winced as a gun fired nearby. Held her fists, blocking the dog's teeth. Somebody was rushing toward the fight! Whoever it was, he swapped his gun for some sort of hand-weapon. Whatever this hand weapon was, it was motorized. It began making a buzzing sort of noise. Like a power saw, perhaps. The man swung at the dog with this device, whatever it was, killing the beast instantly.

Thumping and thumping. Her heartbeat, guzzling adrenaline. Taneesha stumbled. Unclenched her fists. Breathed the fresh air she'd been meaning to breathe just a minute before. What kind of a moment back to freedom was that?

Suddenly, she remembered the man who just saved her, who was standing right there. He put his power saw device away, and looked at her solemnly.

"What's up, princess. Remember me?" he asked.

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

"You have serrrved. All your time."

High kick!

The man with the Ripper

Appealing and appalling

This post has been edited by Renee: Nov 12 2020, 05:16 PM