Miss Vicious Delicious, Her saga and story... Options

[Renee]

2). It also amazes me the way we can abuse Karma in this game. After all the thefts she's committed so far: 19 locks picked (most of them Karma-related), 1 computer hacked (which was Confessor Cromwell's. This gained her negative Karma), 1 pocket picked, and numerous items stolen, her Pip Girl still shows Taneesha's got Good Karma. That can't be right. Must be one of the mod's I've got in her game which is not registering correctly.

I think I know what happened here. It's because I setstaged the entire quest with Ian West (the vampires one) and Arefu. I had to do this for two reasons

1). I'm combining worlds between Cho and Vicious, and since Cho definitely completed Blood Ties, I want this to exist as completed in Vicious's game as well.

2). Completing the quest frees Lucy West from a litany of dialog greetings & options. Before setstaging, every time Tan would speak to her, there'd be "Have you heard anything about Ian?" which Taneesha can't possibly know about. So I used the console to change this. This way, I can just simply use Lucy for my own quests / dialog.

I think completing Blood Ties causes a huge packet of Good Karma though. Gotta be this. Vicious should at least be Neutral Karma by now, I'd imagine.

This post has been edited by Renee: Oct 25 2022, 01:52 PM

[Renee]

@Acadian the Paladin-- Aww, you mention the Weet Bandit. Had so much fun with that Redguard over the years.

That scene was fun to write. Only thing I regret is not taking a picture of Tan as she jumped off the second floor balcony, and landed right on top of the pulpit!

Three days isn't really too bad, even with a timescale of 10. On the other hand, my jail mod does things in real time, unlike Elder Scrolls jails. Sleeping on the bed only passes a few hours. Being incarcerated in my Fallout 3 means everything else gets put on hold for a while. As we'll see, Taneesha is able to make the best of this.


@SubRosa Florens : I know, right? What if we could just pay a fine and walk away, America would really suck then. On the other hand, this is what some of our richer folk can do. "Pay a fine" in that case equates to hiring lawyers. Cutting plea deals, bribing witnesses, and so on.

I think I figured out why her Karma won't drop (see the post above). My fault, really.


@Master Lopov--

Maybe Jericho forgot the BB the last time he was in jail.

Wow. This actually works in the story too. Jericho hasn't been seen in Megaton for a few days. Hmm, actually...


This post has been edited by Renee: Oct 30 2022, 02:15 PM

[Renee]

I wrote up a bunch of Taneesha text yesterday but then hit some button on my keyboard and the browser went backwards. Rrrgh I was so mad. I thought I'd lost all the text I'd written.

Thankfully, I was using email. I email myself back and forth as I write most stories (don't ask) because of this, I remembered Outlook's Drafts folder. Nice. There's all the text I wrote! It'll be a shortie, though. The story was supposed to be twice as long, but now I don't feel like writing.


Chapter 50: Back in the Slammer

Date: Friday, September 21, 2277, 7:23 AM





Three days...that's how long her sentence was for stealing that final bearer bond. Three whole days. That's seventy-two hours. Four-thousand and twenty minutes. 259,200 seconds. Taneesha had never been so good at mathematics (other than adding or subtracting caps, most Wastelanders had little use for math). But with all these minutes and seconds to kill, she certainly had time to figure how multiplication works.

...Clonk! swoo Clong! swoo...

"Hey, you. Jail Bot. Whatcha got to eat? C'mon dude, I'm hungry."

"Mooove. Along. Please."

"Yeah, but it's morning. Come on and feed me some Sugar Bombs, you walking garbage can!"

"Protect. And. Serve."

"Stupid *ducking* goddamn mother *clucker*..."

On the other hand, three days was not so bad. Three days of no distractions, and no demands. She'd be fed, she could sleep anytime she wanted. No pressure to come up with caps to live her everyday life, no reason to hustle. And if any monsters or fools somehow broke into this place, Jail Bot would try its best to protect her. And if Jail Bot got smashed to smithereens, she could hide in her cell. Nobody was getting past those bars, she'd already tried!

Taneesha could be with her own thoughts too, for all three of these days. Turns out, she had plenty to think about.

Such as, what to do about Bratty? The Brat, her supposed bestest friend in the whole world, was still solidly stuck in raider society, while Taneesha had begun to enjoy a less stressful, less dangerous, and more respectful life in Megaton.

(Well, other than getting attacked three times in a row by the three doofuses from the Old Guys gang..)

But back to Bratty. There was no way the Brat could survive in Megaton, nuh-uh. Firstly, there was no room for Bratty in Lucy West's home. And bringing her friend into Megaton would be a horrible idea, anyway. Wouldn't be long before she'd get caught stealing some chems ... or try using her assault rifle in town against someone who pissed her off ... or sl*tting it up to somebody whom she thought she could earn some quick caps from... nope, Bratty the brat had no place in that nearby community. So what to do?

After mulling over the situation, Taneesha came up with a solution which she thought might work. Thinking it through this way and that, she began to get excited about the future, in fact.

See? Being in jail wasn't so bad.

Next: how much was she getting paid for this mission? Slick Rick hinted there was a lot coming her way. No official number had been stated, but let's say if it was enough for her to afford her own place to live, could she then ditch the raiders? Could she and Bratty move to Rivet City (where both of them would be anonymous), find some sort of jobs, and then live the rest of their young lives as cute and young adults? Dressing in actual dresses and shoes instead of despicable armors made from scraps and ammo rounds?

Thinking thoughts about the raiders, her mind began to wander further. About how it all had happened a few years' back; her being inducted with them. And how her current lifestyle with Lucy West had come about. Safe, proper, respectable. That's how she'd describe her housemate.

Ruminating on these angles, Taneesha Jones began to gain some perspective, perspective she'd possibly never glean outside these walls.

Being a part-time raider meant being a part-time outlaw, and one of the things the outlaws of the Wasteland loved to jaw about was how things were in the past. Back then there'd been actual rules, and actual laws. Back then, stealing a pack of smokes could get you a sentence possibly longer than the one she was serving now, according to what she'd heard from other raiders. Back then, getting caught killing somebody meant being sent before something called 'a jury'. And if you didn't have enough money to pay for something called a 'lawyer', chances are you yourself could get sent to jail for the rest of your life, maybe even get killed by something called 'the State'!

-- And punishments varied. Out west they used firing squads, with only one gun out of several containing a real bullet. Here in what was the Maryland/Virginia area? Something called 'lethal injections' were administered. Some states even had electric chairs. Gas chambers. And that's if you actually lived long enough to see your final day.

"Yeesh," Taneesha shuddered.

From what she'd heard, going to jail before the Great War was no picnic, oh no. Those who were naturally tough, those who could fight or were part of a gang might be okay. But there were those who'd suffer beatings every day, or worse. These weaker types were now contained in a fish tank, with plenty of sharks and piranhas about.

Taneesha mused that she'd probably be okay if she were incarcerated in such a place, 200+ years in the past. Being with the raiders, she already was part of a gang after all, a very large gang, loosely-based over the entire Capital region.

Jail Bot clonked its triangular pattern outside her cell.

It was another hour or so (sixty minutes, or three-thousand six-hundred seconds) before she finally got her breakfast: a box of Sugar Bombs, a bottle of brahmin milk, and some Potato Crisps. Yum. Not exactly health food. But after giving up the opportunity to eat for that stupid ciggie pack the evening before, she was now famished.

11:34 AM, according to her Pip Girl 2500®, which the officers allowed her to keep for some reason. This meant just one day, eight hours, some odd minutes and seconds left to go.

To kill time, Taneesha turned her device's radio on, and began dancing in her cell. Eventually had a look at the wall where she'd written her raider name 'Vicious' about a month ago. She'd scratched her name onto one of the slammer's corrugated walls with a carpenter's nail, forgotten on the floor by whoever built this wretched place.

Apparently there'd been some other convicts who'd been sent to Megaton's jail by then, because her name had been joined by a couple others.

VICIOUS 2277
~Charisse~
*!B0dyb4gz!​*

"Bodybagz, huh? Sounds like a raider name, for sure."

In another corner she found another name, one familiar to anyone who'd spent more than a day in Megaton...

JERICHO

... the bastard who she'd totally gotten into an argument with a couple weeks back. Thinking about the supposed former raider a bit, Taneesha grabbed the leftover nail. Began scratching a new word on the wall, so how it said...

JERICHO BLOWS BRAHMIN CHUNKS!

"There, you deserve that, you bastard. Hope you see that when you get thrown back into this place."

Four more meals, dozens of hours of sleep, and finally Jail Bot said the words she'd been waiting for.

[Lopov]

Not only did incarceration positively affect Tan's thoughts about the future, it also encouraged her writing abilities.

[SubRosa]

Taneesha is back in the slam, again. She and the Wheet Bandit will have to compare sentences some day to see who has done the most time.

I must confess to the irony of Taneesha pondering how Bratty is unsuitable for polite society from her prison cell is rather amusing. But she is right. While Taneesha can at least play along with the rules enough to fit in most times, Bratty would be in a gunfight before the first day was over.

I love the *!B0dyb4gz!​* name. Ph3R M3 N00bS!

[Acadian]

Three days of introspection and solving the world’s problems for Taneesha.

So her plan is to get rich from Q-tip’s bond reward, move to Rivet City and turn Bratty into a respectable woman. What could possibly go wrong?

I’m glad Tan translated *!B0dyb4gz!* for me. I never would have figured it out.

[Renee]

Acadian: Yeah, B0dyB4gz!!!! I have a feeling she's going to meet whomever this is at some point. But yes, she's trying to put together some sort of plans for her future..

You have to realize how stark the Capital Wasteland compared to Cyrodiil or even Skyrim. In Fallout games, the world .... there's not as many safe places to go and dwell. No friendly inns, none of that. I'd say the Fallout world is more hostile overall. So between Megaton and Rivet City there's just nothing. Nowhere safe to stay. ☢ Well, there's Dukov's whore house, but she's not going back there.

I mean yeah, as a raider she can stay at raider camps. But she's thinking of elevating her status in the world.


SubRosa: Oh definitely Kahreem has done more time. A good amount of that Redguard's days (maybe a third of them) were spent in the clink.

I love the *!B0dyb4gz!​* name. Ph3R M3 N00bS!

Lopov: Yes, she's made the best of her time behind bars for sure. As I edit today's story (which I wrote most of last night) Taneesha's actually in jail, sitting there. Keeps getting up to check with Jail Bot if her sentence is done yet. It actually feels like she's confined for real!

[Renee]

Date: Sunday September 23, 9:02 AM

High Temp: 78 F
Low Temp: 61 F

"You have serrrrrved all your time. And. Are NOW. Free. To go."

"Damn right, Jail Bot. Open these bars."

"Please ... reMOVE your things. From. The. Evidence locker before you go."

The bot didn't need to tell her twice. From somewhere unseen there was a loud *click*, after which Taneesha could move the bars before her.

"Adios, Jail Bot. Hope we don't see each other again."

"Mooove. Along. Please."

She rushed over to the jail's Evidence Locker, eager to see if her possessions were still there. And yes, her pocketbook and the rucksack she'd been using to carry the stolen bearer bonds were present. There was also the sporty outfit Lucy had given her, five cigarettes, the Mentats Taneesha bought (in case she needed some insight to pick the next unpickable lock), a can of Pork 'n' Beans, a few shotgun rounds, and the 13 bobby pins Taneesha had in her hair at her time of arrest.

But there were also some items in there which were not hers: a shot glass, a set of sexy lingerie, and (oddest of all) a total of 116 caps. Taneesha counted these one by one before leaving the jail. She was sure she did not have this many bottle caps when she'd gotten in trouble a few days ago, which meant somebody had left the extra ones behind!

Best of all, the bonds were still in her rucksack. The officers hadn't considered them to be stolen, or maybe they figured those bunch of old documents were worthless, so they'd been included along with her other things.

Taneesha took the time to place her jail clothes in a metal box on the floor, then got herself dressed.

9:36 AM
And she was back outside!

Out here it was noticeably cooler because autumn, also known as 'fall' in America, had begun. Long ago this meant most leaves on the trees would change color. They'd go from green to red, yellow, gold, brown, and so on. Then they'd lose their leaves. Thing is, back then trees were everywhere.

Taneesha Jones had barely seen any trees during her 19 years so far, real ones, anyway.

As she started trudging back to society, Convict Jones kicked herself. "Drats." Summer? It was over. Being locked up for three days meant missing the change from dreadful and muggy to temperate and cooler.

Now that her sentence was done, she considered heading to Megaton first. She was not looking forward to going back; in fact she wondered if her days within the insular community were coming to an end. Or, did anyone who knew her actually notice, as she'd gotten arrested and marched outside Megaton's walls? Either way, whether she wanted to return or not, Megaton was where she'd left a lot of her things. Her stun gun, her Blamhammer, all those cool outfits given to her by Lucy West. All that stuff was in Taneesha's personal locker.

No, not Megaton. Megaton could wait. First thing she wanted to do instead was head back to Springvale Elementary. Time to get paid.

She walked roughly east away from the jail, up a slight hill and down it. Vault 101 to her left, Megaton to her right. She walked down a street where pretty ranch-style houses and split-levels once sported lush green lawns. Made a left and stepped some more until she arrived at her abandoned bus. Here she changed out of her clothes, so she could don her raider armor.

She walked into the bus as Taneesha Jones. And walked out as Miss Vicious Delicious.

Back inside the school and immediately she was greeted by her best friend.

"Yo, Vicious!" Bratty's eyes were wide. "Where da hell ya been all these days?"

"Ugh. Brat, you don't even want to know."

"So whatcha been up to? I mean, what the *duck*? You just go into Megaton like a *frackin* zillion years ago and just gonna leave me?"

"Later, Brat. We can talk about that later. Right now I gotta find Slick. Seriously, this is important. Where is that stupid junkie?"

"Well I wanna talk about it NOW!"

"Don't you raise your voice at me," Vicious said, keeping her own words calm. "Come on. We gotta find Slick. Come with me."

"WHY?"

"Because I said so, girl!"

It took a few twists and turns of the school's darkened hallways before the found him, lurking about with a booze bottle in his hand.

"Hey there, um..." he started.

"Vicious?"

"Yeah, right, I know, I know who you is," Slick slapped the side of his head. "Miss Vicious Delicious!"

"Mm hmm, that's who I am. What the are you on, Slick? Every time I see you, it's like your brain's higher than the last."

Vicious reached for her pocketbook looking for a cigarette, then stopped. It'd been three days since she'd had a smoke, maybe she could make it three more. Going cold turkey wasn't so bad, so far.

"So," Slick Rick began. "So where is you at, uh... with dem bearer bonds?"

Miss Vicious opened the rucksack. Dumped all eleven of them right on the desk. "There. Take them. It's done."

"Oooh wowee, lookee HERE!" Rick began dancing around like a kid in a candy store. "Damn, uh, Vicious. You did it, you did IT! ... And now because of you, WE is gonna be rich!!!"

"We are?"

"Yup, we are. I also got paid, too."

Slick slid the ancient documents into an open drawer of the desk, one by one. He then turned to the floor, where a large duffel bag had been placed. "This, uh, I mean that is yours."

Miss Vicious stared at the bag a moment, knowing already what it contained. Bratty, the eternal woman-child from Jersey, crowded beside her.

"What is it?" the brat asked.

"Go on, take it," answered Slick. "Been a while since we uh, since we uh, counted. But you got yourself a thousand caps in there."

"A THOUS--?"

"Yeah, well. Probably more than a thousand. Been doin' a good job, uh, hiding it, too. Hiding it from ... uh... these other *snitheads*."

Miss Vicious moved quickly, because there it was. Grabbed the duffel bag off the floor, which made a series of small clinky noises as she lifted it. The bag was heavy.

"So now that this is all over," she said, speaking to Slick Rick directly, "why, may I ask, did I need to collect those crapshod old books in the first place?"

*BKKSH!!!* went a small sound to her left; it was the sound of radio static. A ham radio had been set up on a second desk, to the far side of the room.






"Testing, testing, 1 2 3," a voice crackled from the ham. "You there, Slick? And Vicious?"

Slick Rick sauntered over to the radio, the biggest *skit * grin plastered across his face. High or not, this seemed to also be a moment he'd been waiting a long time for. He pressed a button on the radio's intercom. "Yeah, uh, we's here, Lieu. Vicious, too. Go on."

"Vicious, are you there?"

She pushed Slick to the side so she could press a button on the radio labeled Comm. "He said I was," she snapped.

"Yeah, that's what he said!" Bratty chided.

"Good." Whoever it was on the radio, he sounded unperturbed. "So... we haven't met yet, but you can call me Lieu. I am Dogmaster's top lieutenant. Heard a lot about you, Miss Vicious. Good to finally speak to you," he said. Even over the speaker, his voice exuded ... something. -- Admiration? -- A bit of deference? It was hard to tell for sure with all the background static going on. Something in the guy's voice though.

"The Dog cannot join us today," Lieu continued. "He's somewhere out on the Chesapeake in his plutonium-powered yacht. Probably headed up to Baltimore. Doing some dealings up there, you see? Because we need money here, too. Anyway, he wanted me to speak to you directly, so I'm here to congratulate you, Vicious. We really want to thank you for your cooperation on this. Over."

Vicious pressed the button. "Uh... you're welcome?"

There was a pause. "Hey, try to say 'over' when you're done speaking, okay? Just so I know when to cut back in, okay? Over."

"Whatever. Over."

"Yeah! She said whatev--"

"Bratty, shush!"

"And I also just heard your question. About the bonds. Pretty sure you're curious about what's going to happen with them. Over."

"Yeah... like.... why the hell did I just spend all that time getting those?" the raider asked, truly exasperated. "Y'all just paid me all these caps. This bag's heavy, man! But you gotta also know for those bonds to be valuable, something called 'the government' has to still exist, right? ... Because yah, I did some research, dude. These things ain't like Prewar money or caps. They had value 200 years ago because they was backed by the feds. Without no feds, these things aren't valuable for *crap *."      

She released the Comm button. Pressed it again.

"Uh. Over."

Released it.

There was the sound of scratching over the speaker, and for a moment she wasn't sure what was happening on the lieutenant's end. After another moment, it became obvious he was laughing.

"So, yes, they are currently valueless, this is true," Dog's lieutenant answered, from wherever it was he was speaking. "Now, try to stay open-minded for this next part, okay? Over."

"Okay. And...?"

"So, you've retrieved those bearer bonds from Megaton, eleven of them, right? And we've got a few guys down in the Virginia area also looking for more of these. We've got a few up in what was Delaware...and so on. Altogether, we've collected over three-hundred bearer bonds from various attics, various cellars, former shop storerooms, and so on.

"Again, try to keep an open mind," Lieu the lieutenant continued. "Because as you noted, these things are worthless without any government. Over."

"Mm hmm. That's what I'm saying," Vicious answered. "Over."

"Now. What if there were a government?" Lieu said. Even over the intercom, it was obvious there was a smile in the man's voice. "What if ... there were people who were trying to bring back some of the old ways? Politics? Legislation? All of that? ... Think about it. We've got this guy Eden proclaiming himself as president. But according to the old ways, he cannot do this without the people voting for him."

"What the--?" Miss Vicious asked without pressing the button. She turned to face Slick, who shrugged. "Is he saying what I think he's saying?"

"What if Dogmaster himself contends to ratify his own set of politics, and then makes it known that he'd like to go head-to-head against this so-called President Eden? Over."

"Dude, that's whack!" Vicious spoke. "Uh, no offense. I mean good luck if the Dog is really serious about this. But what's them bonds got to do with Dogmaster ... running for president?"

"I'll assume you finished that with 'over'," Lieu said from faraway, "so I can respond. Anyway, think about it. The Dogmaster runs for office, and while doing so, he uses those ancient bearer bonds as collateral, to be sold to the public, um... the peoples of the Capital Wasteland that is, who'll eventually vote for him. Those in favor can buy the bonds for a few caps each, let's say, forty caps apiece. We've got about three-hundred of these so far, so do the math. Three-hundred multiplied by forty. That's twelve-thousand caps, right there...

Vicious said nothing. Is this idiot serious?

"We use this money," he continued, "to rebuild America's treasury..."

"Damn," Vicious said without pressing Comm. "These guys are either really smart. Or really, really naïve, extremely dumb."

"...and those who invest can someday collect returns on their initial 40 cap investments, as more bond investors put money in. Which is basically what was once called a Ponzi scheme, but they don't have to know that, right? Over."

Miss Vicious said nothing. Just stood there blankly, unsure (for once) of what to say. Overall, she'd gotten her share though. A thousand caps, maybe more. Her part in this ridiculous scheme was done. As long as she was careful with her coin over the next crucial few days, as long as she and Bratty didn't blow it all on chems or whatever, Taneesha 'Miss Vicious' Jones now had some options. Options to maybe, I dunno, get the hell out of the Springvale / Megaton area once and for all.

"--you there, Miss Vicious?" Dogmaster's Lieutenant asked. "Over."

"Yeah I am, over."

"We'll definitely have more work for you in the future when you're ready, Miss Vicious. This is absolute and true. You are good at this sort of thing, and we can use your assistance when the time comes. So stay in touch with Slick, okay? Over. And out."

The radio went dead. As Vicious hauled her winnings back to her classroom, the raiders of Springvale whooped and hollered the nonsense they usually whooped and hollered about.

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

"You have ... serrrrved. All your time..."

Fighting a Mole Rat

Walks into her bus as Taneesha...

... she leaves as Vicious

Bratty gets pissed

[SubRosa]

I love how you captured the weird vocal cadences of the protectrons.

Taneesha is back on the streets, with the final bond! She can finally wrap up this mission, quest, thing.

And she changes out of her secret identity and into her alter ego as... Miss Vicious! Dum dum dum! See, Miss VD is a superhero after all.

I am sure Lieu was exaggerating, but a plutonium-powered yacht does sound pretty dope.

Dogmaster is running for president? Well, at least a raider is an honest criminal, right?

Oh, even better, Dogmaster is reinventing Bitcoin, NFTs, a Ponzi scheme. Now that I can get behind.

[Acadian]

From what I can gather, the world of Fallout is a harsh place. Among the few saving graces though is the absence of politics, legislation and government ponzi schemes. . . oh, wait.

Wow, Taneesha's rich! I'm glad she's already thinking about trying to make sure it doesn't get frittered away.

[Lopov]

What a contrast between this story and her adventures from Megaton. Just like Miss Vicious Delicious or Taneesha Jones had two sides to her, so do your stories about her.

Wow, 1000 caps for 11 bonds - nice reward!

I was also perplexed as I read about what Dogmaster's plans are.

But boy, the guy's got his own plutonium yacht!

[Renee]

Hey, I was going to make today's story the final one of 2022, but (as usual) there were some problems with the final quest, which I hope to fix this week. So next week shall be the final episode of MVD-2022.

I love how you captured the weird vocal cadences of the protectrons.

Ha ha, I figure when those things were programmed it was like the software engineers had all these soundbytes they could use, but nothing was consistent because they were made at a zillion different moments back in the 21st century. 🤖 The guy (or gal, if we're considering robobrains) records his/her voice, but says the recording in such a way that it's not consistent with other bytes.

And she changes out of her secret identity and into her alter ego as... Miss Vicious! Dum dum dum! See, Miss VD is a superhero after all.

Ha ha. Next season she will become even more super.


I am sure Lieu was exaggerating, but a plutonium-powered yacht does sound pretty dope.

I must admit I am partially inspired by all the gizmos (flying scooters, robots, etc.) in your own Stormcrow story. I just imagine whoever fuels Dog's yacht's gotta really know what they're doing. Imagine having a meltdown right on the Chesapeake Bay. ☢


Dogmaster is running for president? Well, at least a raider is an honest criminal, right?

Oh, even better, Dogmaster is reinventing Bitcoin, NFTs, a Ponzi scheme. Now that I can get behind.

From what I can gather, the world of Fallout is a harsh place. Among the few saving graces though is the absence of politics, legislation and government ponzi schemes. . . oh, wait.

The Capital Wasteland is many things. Definitely harsh, but also quite humorous. The entire Fallout series (from what I understand this includes the earliest two editions made before Beth bought the enterprise) is a huge satire on American culture. I'm hoping to capture some of this.

"MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!" -- I meant to have Lieu say that at some point, but forgot.


Wow, Taneesha's rich! I'm glad she's already thinking about trying to make sure it doesn't get frittered away.

It's all perspective, right? A thousand is not much by today's standards. But to the average Wastelander, who's maybe got a couple dozen in his/her pockets at best, that is quite a lot.

What a contrast between this story and her adventures from Megaton. Just like Miss Vicious Delicious or Taneesha Jones had two sides to her, so do your stories about her.

Wow, I never thought about it like this, but it's true. After months (in-game and in real-life) of spending time in Megaton, the entire plotline's about to shift.


Wow, 1000 caps for 11 bonds - nice reward!

That's actually wrong, too. If they're going to sell these things for 40 caps apiece, they've already blown their profit margin. 40 x 11 = 440, not a thousand!

But maybe they're paying Vicious better than all the other scouts they've got out there. This seems to be the case, considering Dog is going to want to .... well.. don't wanna spoil what'll happen. Suffice it to say, I believe they're paying the others who are finding these things a lot less than they're paying Miss Vicious.

But boy, the guy's got his own plutonium yacht!

Unfortunately I can't simulate this yacht in-story (unless Point Lookout has an example you can cite). Hmm...


This post has been edited by Renee: Nov 12 2022, 08:25 PM

[Renee]

Chapter 52: Wasted Wastoids

Date: Sunday, September 23, 5:32 PM


"One-thousand and five-hundred, twenty-two..." *clink* "One-thousand and five-hundred, twenty-three..." *clink!* "There, that's all the caps. One-thousand and five-hundred, twenty-four in all. Now how about that, Miss Bratty?"

Bratty was (for once) speechless. At least for the moment. Savor that moment dear readers, as it's not a common one.

The Brat and Vicious were sitting in Miss Vicious's classroom​. Just finished counting all the payment she'd earned from Slick Rick a couple hours before. Small piles of bottle caps littered in little piles, all across the floor. Before their count, Vicious had implemented an incredibly smart idea, which was to barricade the classroom's door with a couple desks. This was to ensure that none of Springvale's dope-fiend raiders would burst inside. If any of them discovered what was going on, hundreds of caps all over the place, would they be able to resist grabbing handfuls on the spot?

"You ain't got nothing to say, huh?"

"Let's have a party!" the Brat announced after a moment. "Yeah, let's get some chems, Vicious! Come on, we can find the--"

"Hey, whoa, whoa, Brat, stop that line of thought right there. Exactly what we need not to do. We ain't getting high, at least not now. We gotta be smart about this, okay? ... You know, because it's quite possible if we blow some of this now, next thing we know it'll be days-gone-by, we'll be poor again. Back where we was. Might be a few days before that happens; a thousand five-hundred twenty-four caps is quite a lot. But you'd be surprised how fast money can go, once you start paying attention."

She looked across the floor at her winnings. Caps which had once been stamped atop thousands of glass bottles. Removed by fellows and kids and babes all across the Capital Wasteland, so their contents could be consumed. Circulated as mock-coin (because this was the best Americans could do in the year 2277 for currency).

Vicious waited for the Brat to protest. Actually gave her the opportunity to do so. But Bratty stayed quiet, so Vicious continued.

"Let's just say we gotta stay smart about this, okay?"

"Okay," Bratty agreed. "But I wanna go into Megaton, Vicious. C'mon, when are moving there? Gettin' sick of living in this dumb old school."

"Ummmm yeah... about that, Brat..."

"Noooo! BUT YOU SAID we could go!!!"

Vicious sighed. Knowing her friend well by now after several weeks, this part might be tougher than she thought. "So listen, Brat. Turns out, I can't get you into Megaton."

"BUT!!!!"

"Listen," the darker raider felt the urge to grab for a smoke. Fought that urge. "It's the woman's place I've been living at when I am in town. Turns out, there's only two beds in there, and there'd really be no room for you to stay, and..."

"So? What's the problem with that?" Bratty started, pulling at one of her pig-tails. "Maybe we go in her house one day and make her move out."

"No, Brat, that won't work. That ain't how proper society, which is how Megaton operates, that ain't how it works at all."

"Heck, maybe we can kill her! What's this *witch's* name, anyway? *Duck* yeah, I got a bright idea, Vicious!"

"Bratty--"

"How about we go into town, you stun the *runt * with your stun gun--"

"Bratty?--"

"... and I beat the *wit* out of her with my club unti she's dea--"

"BRATTY, NO! STOP IT! No one's gonna stun my housemate, no one's gonna beat her, and certainly no one's gonna kill her. STOP this nonsense bull*scheisse* thinking, god*darnit*. Stop it NOW!"

The Brat really got angry at this, of course. Got up and stomped around the room, her cheeks blushing like mad. But she did not make any sort of retort. Maybe because more and more often, she'd been falling into the habit of considering her friend as some sort of life-counselor/guidance-mentor. Or something. Vicious had saved her from a life of whorehouse tawdriness, after all. May have saved her very life.

"Hey, sorry I yelled. Sorry about that Bratty, okay? It's just that sometimes, to get something through your thick skull--"

"HEY, I got a BETTER idea!" the Brat was jumping up and down, making her dirty pink Prewar dress swish and swash. Quite a sight to see; something Miss Vicious might find amusing, if she weren't in the middle of trying to convince her friend from committing malicious activities. "We can get Q-Tip to do it! Yeah, Q-tip'll be down!"

"Oh my gosh, really? Lawd, help me now."

It took another half-hour or so before Miss Vicious was able to begin to explain what had happened. Going into Megaton could not possibly happen now, especially after Vicious laid out what she'd just gone through, over the past week. Since the Brat did not understand what exactly it meant to 1). be arrested 2). get apprehended, and 3). get thrown in jail, her 'mentor' patiently took the time to tell her what had happened. After she was done, it still did not seem her friend entirely got it.

By now, of course, Vicious was also completely exhausted. She loved her friend Miss Bratty, but sometimes it took a lot of energy to keep up with her.

"Let's get these caps back into the duffel bag." There was a crawlspace behind one of the classroom's walls, with a large hole probably chewed out at some point by molerats. Vicious stuffed the loot in there, and then moved a desk in front of it.

"Alright, I guess it's time for a treat," she said, which caused her friend to dance around again, squealing like an irradiated pig. "Let's go find the dude."

Springvale Elementary had its very own chem-supply dealer, an older man who lived in the school full time. This dealer was always well-stocked with whatever latest shipment of stimulants, depressants, hallucinogens, boozes, but also beneficial chems (Stimpaks, Buffout, Mentats, etc.) were going around lately. The dealer would get these chems through a network of suppliers which led all the way up to the Dogmaster and his cohorts, themselves.

Trick was, finding "the dude" could be take a while. Springvale had electricity, it even had air-conditioning in some rooms. But most of its hallways were still dark. Vicious had cleaned her classroom properly several weeks ago, but the rest of the school was still a disaster of rubble and trash. Which was how the raiders liked it, of course.

"What's up?" a raider with Mohawk hair asked, which came out more like a demand.

"Jack, and *ship*!"

"You tell 'im, Brat."

When they finally found the man, Vicious made an exchange of 106 caps to purchase some tranquil-pills and three beers. Now they could get their party on.

"Just this once, okay?" she said to Bratty, while really trying to convince herself. "After tonight, we gotta talk about this new set of plans I got, okay?"

"Yah, sure Vicious. Whatever you say."

"Because yeah, we're not moving into Megaton, but we sure as *ship* ain't stayin' in this school, neither."

"Sure girl, whatever!"

The two raider chicks rushed hurriedly back to Vicious's classroom. Opened their beers and downed their capsules. These were pills which had been manufactured way back when, then'd sat around in warehouses while the Great War eliminated most of society.

"Daaaamn Misssh Vicssshious, thish is goood *knit!​ *" Bratty the Brat slurred.

"Mmmm," Vicious agreed. "Gotta be careful, though..." she said to her friend as the drug took effect, and both of them lay swimmingly down on the floor, where a set of bedrolls lay. "Gotta ... keep ... our heads ... right ... about ... this..." she muttered, drifting off.

Raiders whooped and hollered somewhere outside. Vicious's Pip Girl® radio blared some dope beats from centuries past: En Vogue, Donna Summer, Eminem. The classroom's Christmas lights blurred into a kaleidoscope of color as they drowned in delirium.

This would be the last time Miss Vicious would see the inside of Springvale Elementary School before it all went wrong.

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

"Let's waste the *witch*!..."

"BRATTY! NO!!!"

Springvale Chem Dealer

Dissociated Wastoids

[Acadian]

Haha, Bratty may not be very bright but she’s clearly got her own vicious streak as she plots how to take out Lucy. She's definitely borderline psychostupidic. Settle down, girl! Taneesha’s got her hands full with you.

Two doped-out young ladies in a classroom full of caps in a building full of raiders. What could possibly go wrong here?

[SubRosa]

Bratty is speechless? Now that is something worth celebrating!

What, don't blow all the caps on blow? Is Tanesha turning into a square? Narc! Seriously though, it seems Tan is becoming responsible. Hiding that loot from other raiders is definitely a good start.

And Bratty's got a great plan to walk into Megaton and just go full raider. Oh boy. I don't think she can acclimate to ever being an indoor kitty.

Uh oh, Miss V is partying down, not knowing the terror that awaits!

[Lopov]

I had a feeling while reading this story, that it's a prequel to something disastrous. Can't say to what but I had a hunch from the start.

I wonder if Bratty's mood-shifting behavior might be due to the extreme drug usage in the past.

I love the last pic. Wastedly beautiful!

[Renee]

Okay folks, here it is: Miss Vicious Delicious FINAL CHAPTER of 2022!!! 🎂 🍷

I want to thank everyone who's read and commented and helped along, some of the people I work with, and also some customers, who inspired various characters who show up in the story (Cass A. Nova was inspired by this kid who was hitting on a co-worker for instance). And of course, my co-producer Lopov, who went way beyond what was required for the Bearer Bonds part of the quest. 👨‍🎓 Really appreciate it all.

Chances are there will be a Season 4 as well, and hopefully that'll be the final one. Funny thing is I already know what's going to happen, and I've known since the first summer I began writing her tale. One chapter at a time, of course.

Now, let's see what happens next.

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Chapter 53: The Siege of Springvale

Monday, September 24, 2277, 12:39 AM


...Consciousness, swimming in and out...

... A kaleidoscope of colors, swirling above...

...Miss Taneesha "Vicious" Jones, clamoring out of her latest tryst with chemical experimentation...


She found herself lying on one of the bedrolls located in her raider-given classroom, dizzy and out of it. She moved her head to one side. Had a look across the room, which was seen through her eyes from vertical perspective. Saw no one. Turned her head the other way, now she was looking toward the nearest wall. There was another bedroll here, but nobody laid upon it.

Where is Bratty?

Vicious tried to get up. Alarmingly, she found she could barely move. As if she'd been partially paralyzed.

Or am I even still alive?

After taking a few deep breaths she felt the soreness in her lungs which being a smoker often causes. This made her cough, which somehow kick-started her nervous system, breaking its partial paralysis.

Okay, yes I am still alive. Because this *skit* is too real.

Her dizziness subsided eventually, so that now she could safely try to sit up without a headrush causing her to faceplant.

What was that? Some sort of sounds. Gunfire, and yelling.

Yes that was gunfire, coming from somewhere else in the school. --- ... rat-a-tat-a-ratta-tat... -- Shouting, too. Had yet another innocent Wastelander found himself wandering into school, unaware the place was packed with rambunctious raiders, and his life was about to come to a swift end?

No, this seemed not to be the case. Vicious focused, straining to hear what was going on.

The cadence of some of the gunfire was unusual. Several guns were fired, but there was one which did not sound like a typical raider armament. Vicious listened hard. Whoever the invader was, he was using an assault rifle. But even from hundreds of feet away, she could tell his weapon sounded as though it were well-made, and well-cared for.

Also, there were the sounds of the raiders themselves. When raiders attacked someone, they tended to all join into the fight at once, calling to each other like a pack of radwolves, swarming their prey. They'd fire their mutt-pieces, swing their pool cues and their sledgehammers in an unruly fashion. More like a barely-coordinated pack of animals than a gang of wannabe bad guys.

But this gun's shooter was different. He or she was disciplined. Conserving ammo. And whoever he or she was seemed to be the only one firing last. Even in her current zoned-out state, Vicious could tell the difference. There would be a quick patter of rounds being fired, literal bursts of noise instead of constant spraying. Several minutes would pass between each set of combats, as though the opponent were moving slowly through the school.

Even from her downed perspective she knew the gunner was going at this alone. By himself. Not herself. Himself. And alone. Taking siege of the entire pantheon of raiders, one by one. Because that's how this guy preferred to cause an offensive.

He'd wandered in alone, and by himself.

"No!!" Vicious scream-whispered, feeling some actual terror. Can it be him?!

...Rat-a-tat-tat!.... Pop POP!!!!...

She tried to get fully on her feet so she could run across the room where her locker was. Immediately faltered at this, nearly fell on her face. Still drugged. Not that it mattered much; both her guns were in Megaton.

"Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!" a raider cackled before blasting his shotgun. "It's killin' time!" -- But again, there was that ONE shot from his shotgun followed by a half-dozen or so by the rifle.

Two raiders ran into Vicious's classroom in a panic, crouched down/hands on heads. --It took some moments for Vicious to realize they were Slick Rick and the chem dealer she'd bought those power-pills from. Right away they hit some obstacles. Since she'd arranged the room's desks and chairs in an orderly manner (rather than the mess it was before) both of them ran shin-first into some desks!

"What are ya, scared?" a nearby raider taunted out in the hallway, before being definitely silenced.

A third raider ran into the classroom, the same guy who Vicious had rescued from being eaten alive by mutants up in Germantown Police Department. Slick Rick, the chem dealer, and the dude who was the nearly super mutant-snack. All three fellows hiding in her room, apparently oblivious to her presence. Then again, they wouldn't be able to see her immediately, since she was back to lying on the floor.

"It's go time!" Slick Rick called nervously, arming himself with a 10 mil.

The shooter was now just outside the classroom door. He fired straight at them: rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat... six measured shots. Vicious noticed that for all the taunts and threats and shouts the raiders made, Springvale's invader remained silent.

"You like that, huh? You like that?" Vicious's raider boss called, before his shoulder exploded.

"Please!" mutant-dinner called. "I'm sorry!! ARUGH!!! ... I was just playin' I swear!" He ran out into the hallway, straight into a hail of rounds. The man who'd sold Miss Vicious some ancient phenothiazine soon followed.

"Don't *duckin'* hide from me!" somebody called.

There was one final shot. And then there was silence. Vicious lay in a fetal position on the floor. Wanted to get up, but the harder she tried, the more she realized she was still nearly incapacitated by the drug. Meanwhile, it seemed the invader of Springvale had moved on. Hadn't come into her room. Maybe he saw the way her room's furniture was arranged, made a few calculated guesses, and didn't want to bother banging into any of it. Assumed nobody was inside.

More measured shots. Bangs and shouts, from far away. And then ... nothing. No sounds at all. Vicious listened hard. Nobody out there.

After another several minutes of lying still, she tried again to stand, and was able to do so, very tentatively. She spent a few seconds looking around. Slick Rick lay halfway upon one of the classroom's desks, staring up at the ceiling. Just outside the door were the convict fellow and her former chem dealer, both upended. She moved slowly out into the hallway and saw several bodies, former *bunghole* goofballs who she'd seen around the school, but never bothered to catch their names (because they'd given her a hard time instead of treating her nice).

Everywhere she looked, there were corpses.

"No..."

Vicious's eyes welled with tears, she was sobbing. It had all happened so fast! Because the raiders of Springvale Elementary were around her, but all of them had fallen. Some were friends, some were fiends, some were frenemies.

Though an attack such as this was something she'd long-ago realized could happen at any time (everyone knew raiders were hunted by certain factions of the Wasteland) it was something she did not think she'd truly ever witness. Sure, the camp she'd stayed at a couple years ago up near Evergreen Mills had gotten assailed a couple times, but always it was the raiders who'd triumphed. Some had fallen, but plenty others had remained, while whoever attacked got ran off.

"Hey, don't I know you from somewhere?"

The voice startled her. Vicious had wandered roughly a hundred feet outside of her room by the time she heard it. Her head was still woozy, her throat parched. She'd been just about to get a drink from the fountain.

"Yeaaah, you're the one's been living in Megaton with Lucy West!" Cho Zen Wan, the Lone Wanderer, said. "Well, what the hell are you doing here?"

"Well, I ... uh..." If only I had my stunner.

"Don't tell me you're one of them?"

"You're that Lone Wanderer fellow," Vicious said, pointing shyly.

"Taneesha, right?" Cho asked. "Taneesha Jones?" Cho was putting his gun aside. "All this time you've been living a double life, Taneesha Jones. What's up with that?"

To this, Vicious had no answer.

"Well, look. I'm not gonna kill you. My mission in the Wasteland is to purge the world of raiders because they are mostly scum, no offense. Raiders do horrific things to the otherwise innocent populace of the CW, and it's not right. Raiders piss me off!"

"Okay look," Taneesha Jones said, and by now she really was just Taneesha Jones. Not Vicious. Not Miss Vicious at all. "You can do ... whatever." She shuddered weakly, looking toward a fallen raider nearby. "I guess I'll thank you for sparing me. But please, can you spare my girlfriend? Her name's Bratty, and she's wearing a pink dress."

"Pink dress, eh? Yeah, I saw her outside the school, just before coming in here." Cho the Lone Wanderer picked up his gun, and hoisted it on his back. "Bratty, you say? What kind of a name is that? 'Bratty'?"

Taneesha again had no reply. Merely looked glumly at her crummy raider boots.

"Get yourself together, Taneesha. You deserve better than this."

"Hey, don't give me that lesson in morality," she answered slowly and sadly. "Believe me, I've been struggling with this. Was just about to get out of the game." She broke eye contact with the man before her. That is true. I was just about to get out ... wasn't I?

"Alright, so we have a deal?" the former dweller of Vault 101 gestured. "You're going to get out of this life, IF, and that's a very BIG IF, you get yourself away from these creeps."

Taneesha Jones nodded.

"Good. I'm outta here. Now, you aren't gonna shoot me in the back are you?"

The Lone Wanderer did not wait for a reply. Perhaps because he could see the young lady before him was not armed. And then he was gone.

-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-

She spent the next hour or two getting her bearings back, while wandering the school. Finally found her friend in Springvale's lower level, a place where the teachers' lounge had once been, along with the gymnasium and the janitor's hold.

"Dude!!! What happened here?" the Brat asked. Had the drug caused her a total knockout too? Did not seem so. Bratty looked to be her usual bratty self.

"I don't have no idea," Vicious lied, hoping to keep her friend from turning into a total maniac while trying to find the culprit. "Whoever it was wasted everyone but us, seems like."

And predictably, "*CLUCK!!! Let's go find the *corkhole* so we can waste him! C'mon, Vicious!"

But Miss Vicious Delicious was not in the mood for even pretending to do this. Her head, it began to spin again. Her knees felt wobbly.

"No. Let's get back to my classroom, Brat. Let's get some rest. Tomorrow we head out of here. I promise. Pinky-swear promise, in fact."

"DAMMIT!!! You never want to have any fun!!!"

That's right Miss Bratty, thought Taneesha as both of them started back toward her room. From now on, one of us is not going to be very fun.


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

Chem Dealer Cowers (tlb enhanced)

The Lone Wanderer's First Victim

This one lost his head

Down for Good

Commotion in the Classroom

(It just happened that the three male raiders Vicious interacted the most with during this story all congregated into her classroom. This was unplanned!)

Rick Retaliates

Goodbye Slick Rick

Chem Dealer's Last Steps

"You're the one's been living with Lucy West"

Quest Completed

~END, SEASON THREE~

[SubRosa]

The morning after. Ugh. Is there the part that Miss V swears to never touch the stuff again? That was a big part in me giving up on alcohol entirely. The other part of course being that once I was 21 and it was legal for me to drink, it was suddenly a lot less interesting.

Uh oh, the school is under attack!

Is it the Rattler!

Oh no, its a Player Character! It is very cool how you worked Cho Zen Wan into this.

What kind of name is Bratty? A descriptive one.

And she is her usual, Bratty self. I don't think Bratty will ever be an indoor kitty.

A neat end to this story arc. Miss V's life with the raiders definitely seems to be at an end. Unless some other group pulls her back into the game.

[Renee]

'Rosa, if you were able to give it up that early, you're one of the lucky ones. I still struggle with substance abuse at times, which is part of the reason it's great I have this writing hobby to keep me busy. Good thing is, I've ever had any serious probs with alcohol or cigs, at least. Those are the worst in a way since they're legal.

Hee hee, nope, not the Rattler! 🐍 That would really suck if he showed up. He wouldn't have let her go.

Like I said, I'll begin writing this again hopefully in Spring of 2023. Some crazy stuff is going to go down next season.

I wanted to show off share the main script I came up with, for anyone out there who wants to get a peek behind the scenes. Keep in mind that last week when I couldn't get the quest to move forward, the ONLY thing keeping it from doing so was a very n00bish mistake. The fourth line which starts like "If (GetStage aaaSiegeOfSpringvaleQuest == 20)" I forgot to put both GetStage and the qualifier (the twin equal signs). So it said "If (aaaSiegeOfSpringvaleQuest 20)" which won't fail the script editor, but is meaningless in the game.

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

scriptname aaaSiegeOfSpringvaleQuestScript

short DoOnce

Begin MenuMode

If (GetStage aaaSiegeOfSpringvaleQuest == 20) && (IsPCSleeping == 1) && (DoOnce <1)

.....aaaBrattyRef.Moveto aaaBrattyStage80SiegeOfSpringvaleXMarker
.....aaaChoZenWanRef.MoveTo aaaChoZenWanSpringvaleSiegeXMarker

.....Set aaaRaiderFollowerQuest.Status to 2
.....aaaQTipRef.disable

.....Set DoOnce to 1

EndIf
End


Begin GameMode

If (DoOnce == 1)

.....aaaChozenWanRef.AddScriptPackage aaaChoZenWanPlunderSpringvale
.....ShowMessage aaaSiegeOfSpringvaleStage20Message
.....Set DoOnce to 2

EndIf

If (aaaChoZenWanRef.GetDistance Player <= 512) && (DoOnce == 2)

.....aaaChoZenWanRef.StopCombat Player
.....aaaChoZenWanRef.AddScriptPackage aaaApproachPlayerPackage
.....Set DoOnce to 3

EndIf

If (GetStage aaaSiegeofSpringvaleQuest >= 80) && (DoOnce == 4)

.....aaaChoZenWanRef.AddScriptPackage aaaChoZenWanLeaveSpringvale
.....aaaChoZenWanRef.StopCombat Player
.....Set DoOnce to 5

EndIF

End

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[Acadian]

What the raiders lack in brains, they make up for with lack of tactical prowess - particularly vs a seemingly competent foe.

Ahah, so it is the Chosen One doing his civic vigilante duty. Good on him. Taneesha will be wise to heed his advice.

Though she is now the Principal of Springvale she is probably better to move on. Taking Bratty with her will be an additional challenge though, for as SubRosa wisely said: 'I don't think Bratty will ever be an indoor kitty'.