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

Nice all outs to Dukov and the Rattler *shudder*

Miss Delicious is definitely vicious!

Who let the dogs out!

Vicious is a bombshell. Or at least her armor is.

Wow, Vicious Delicious gets her own thread even!

Takana Topov!

Vicious definitely looks much better in the raider armor. Now if she can only find some better weapon.

Is she Dead-is-dead?

Very fun reading this from the ambushers' perspective!

Wow, they sure learned the hard way not judge a woman by her outfit! Speaking of outfits, looks like Takana's coconut cups fit Vicious perfectly.

SubRoea: Fortunately, Rattler will be spoken of in this tale from afar! Let's hope, anyway.

Lopov: Me and my silly names. Vicious is not DiD because I'm writing this story about her, and also making a mod idea which she'll basically be the tester for. As you know, I can't just roll a Test character like you.

Acadian: I got inspired to write from their perspective first for some reason. Raiders are similar to bandits in Elder Scrolls games. They haven't got the money or know-how for the more expensive heavy armor often worn by marauders, nor are they trying to gain knowledge as conjurers and necromancers do in their pursuit of magic. Vicious herself was a raider, and is unsure of her future.

I'm going to try to write this today, although my Inspiration is low. My Logitech keyboard is starting to get that feeling, you know? Like maybe it'll soon be time to head back to Office Depot! It's keys aren't quite so springy, lately. Maybe today's tale will be a shorty.

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



Date: August 20, 2277, 9:24 AM


Some things, you never forgot. Some things, little things, they stayed with you. In your thoughts the rest of your life.

Take the number thirteen, for instance. Thirteen, supposed to be the number of bad luck. The lady who called herself Vicious had first read about this number years before as a child, in a Grognok the Barbarian comic book episode. She herself had been the age of 13, at the time. Maybe that's why it stayed with her.

The number thirteen had been featured in that comic somehow in a bad way. As though thirteen is always akin to evil eyes, and malevolent moments, for those who encounter it. Throughout the rest of her becoming years, she'd hear about this number occasionally: from her caretaker, from some old Newsreel, from some old wastrel. So it was ironic that the impeccable structure known as Tenpenny Tower was exactly thirteen stories tall.

"My my...."

Tenpenny was the first landmark her wandering eyes were able to identify. Easy to spot, since it was so damn tall.

She first noticed the former luxury hotel as she stumbled out of a dusty dip; the armor she'd taken from that dead little b---- the day before squirming and flexing. The sight of Tenpenny Tower made her smile. Ever since she'd awoken in that shack days before, she had no idea where she was. Far to the west, for sure. But nowhere near the 'comfort zone' she was more familiar with: Megaton, Rivet City, Springvale, Big Town.

As she neared the place, she began counting its layers of windows. Thirteen. Lord have mercy. She counted again, trying to ignore the haze of hangover. Thirteen, from bottom to top. My my.

She had been to Tenpenny in the past, maybe a couple years and some odd months before. At the time, she'd been with a group of others known as Jehovah's Witnesses. Good, God-fearing Evangelist types, back when she herself was trying to figure it all out. At the age of 16, she was the youngest of the group. None of them expected any kindness from the residents of the gigantic tower (indeed, it was rare they'd manage to give out their pamphlets without somebody shooting), but Tenpenny had been much different.

She knew there'd be complications. But she could not remember exactly what these complications might be. First thing though, would be to strip away her diabolical-looking C-cup armor, and replace it with... anything else. She had left that hideous parkstroller back in that power station, glad to be rid of it, and she was not going back! Fortunately, she was able to locate a traveling brahmin merchant nearby. The merchant spoke in riddles, everything a little word game. He sold her a set of scruffy, but otherwise inoffensive, clothes. Once inside these clothes, she practically ran back to the tower, ready to deal.

"Look mate," said the guard after Vicious pressed the Tenpenny buzzer. "I thought I told you ghouls you got no place here in Tenpenny Tower. I don't care if you're feral or not. You got no place here. Now get lost."

"Well, I ain't no ghoul, fool," she raised her voice an octave or so. "It's tough out here. Hot and tough. You can't let a nice, young lady inside for a couple days?"

Well. Whatever it was, the guard behind Tenpenny's front gate relented his position, somewhat. Miss Vicious could be vicious, but she could also be delicious. She tried her tone. The guard seemed to like what he was hearing. He could let her in, if she was successful at one of two scenarios. She could either (1) pay a one-time fee of 100 caps, or (2) go on some weird ghoul-hunting rampage. Apparently there was an undergrond location full of ghouls nearby. The tower's master, a puffy-sounding fellow by the name of Lord Allistair Tenpenny, would personally make things pleasant for anyone who took care of them. Looking down at the beat-up handgun she'd acquired from one of the raiders a day ago, Vicious knew this would not be enough to take down a whole supposed platoon of underground menaces.

"Don't go nowhere. I'll be back."

Desperate to get inside, desperate for its safe walls and multitude of guarded corridors, Vicious's only option was to raid the RobCo Factory nearby. Hopefully she'd find something inside to scavenge and sell. To her credit, she already had 87 caps on her person, so it would only be a matter of pushing that cart, right over the edge.



The next day

"Isn't it wonderful living here in Tenpenny Towers? I wouldn't dream of being anywhere else in the Wasteland!"

Miss Vicious rolled her eyes at the primly-dressed debutante before her, while pleasant music played in an endless loop. "Any idea where I can buy and sell?" she asked, lighting a Lucky Strike. She hoped her cigarette might foul some of the primly-dressed debutante's perfume, or something.

Over the previous twenty-four hours, Miss Vicious had managed to scavenge all sorts of tings in a nearby RobCo factory. She used her 10 mil handgun sparingly, shooting at radroaches and a couple molerats, only when necessary. The work had been grueling and dark. And now she was ready to make back some of those hundred caps she'd had to spend to get into this dump. Had it all been worth it?

After wandering around for half an hour, finally she had found what amounted to Tenpenny's trading desk. Time to sell her wares.

"Welcome to Boutique Le Chic," announced the lady in the perfectly-tailored pink dress. Not a parkstroller, but close. "I'm Lydia Montenegro, proprietor," she said, her voice absolutely cultured. As though the magnificently dirty and dangerous Capitol Wasteland did not exist, meters outside. "Here, you'll find only the best. With a price tag you can boast about to your friends!"

"Um well see, I got this conductor for sale," Vicious began awkwardly. "And this ammo....."

"Oh, you must get out of those clothes!" a second lady interrupted, chuckling. "What are those, hand-me-downs? You should suit up into a parkstroller, and Lydia's the lady you want to speak to!"

"Hey. Mind your own damn business!" Vicious snapped, causing Lydia Montenegro and the second lady to blink. Vicious herself was also a little surprised. Really feeling awkward. Wondering, why did I come in here? Really, what did I expect?

"Excuse me," Lydia reeled. "You look like an adventurer. And we could use someone like you."

"You could?"

"Have you any interest in taking care of those ghouls?" Lydia shivered. "If they got in here, they'd get their filth on everything! You can smell them a mile away!"

"Uh...."



One Hour Later

"Hey you, you got another cigarette?" asked the bimbo seated across the table. A regular floozy in fact, her hair the color of platinum blonde.

Vicious fished a Lucky out of her pack. "Damn, that's the third one you bummed since I came in here." Both young ladies were in Tenpenny's lounge. "I been countin', you know?"

"I'm Janet!" the bimbo extended her hand. "I'm from West Virginia! Vault 94! That's how I got this Pip Boy! Where are you from?"

"Uh... around."

The blonde bimbo now identified as Janet sat pensively for a moment. Eyes darting here and there, as though her mind was in constant, rapid thought. "Hey you know, you don't have to pay for drinks in here!"

"I don't?"

"Pfft no! Just walk around. Nobody locks their doors around Tenpenny! Just look in peoples' fridges! And like, their cabinets and stuff. I sneak liquor all the time! Wanna come with me?"

As one lady followed the other lady out for some fun, so continued the plunge of Miss Vicious Delicious back into her former life of drugs, dread, and debauchery.

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

Thirteen floors of Tenpenny

A traveling brahmin merchant

RobCo, a convenient place to raid

Eager to get in

100 bottle caps. Was it worth the expense? -- (I just read there's a way to sneak into Tenpenny! Some wall we can jump over. Oh well.)

"That bimbo over there. Watch out. She gonna bum a cig off you, girl..."

Screw Tenpenny Tower. Vicious got her own pad.

Now I finally know, how many floors there are in Tenpenny!

That merchant can sell you a robot, if I'm not mistaken.

Not sure if MVD fits among the "nobility" of Tenpenny. They want her to dress the parkstroller outfit - again!

It's Janet "Floozie" Talia!

Looks like the girls are about to have some fun!

Unlucky 13 Tenpenny Tower! I wonder if the address was 1313 Mockingbird Lane?

Oh boy, Miss D running in Janet is not a good thing for Delicious. Good to see she got her own pad though. I am guessing in the little shop south of Tenpenny, where the Lucky Shades are?

'As she neared the place, she began counting its layers of windows. Thirteen. Lord have mercy.'
- - I wonder if when you get near the top floor, it skips from 12 to 14? Lord Haaf Mercy . . . will he be making an appearance in this story?

I have to agree that Vicious' current outfit does actually look better (and more comfortable) than either her previous parkstroller or those bandit-looted coconut cups. That pair of self-proclaimed fashion diva's at the store remind me of that dress shoppe in Solitude (Skyrim) where the pair of snooty Altmer want to dress you up like a toy doll or such.

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

LoL @ the world game! Farriers even!

Anthony's rooster!

That was the sound of Janet driving away on her motorbike, right?

So after living the flipping high life for a while, Miss V goes back to her flipping roots.

Wow, Road Trip Mad Libs takes me back to long car rides on summer vacations when I was a child.

The Lucky Shades are in a little grocery store called Lucky's that is southwest of Tenpenny Tower. It is right by the southern border of the map. As the name suggests, they give you a bonus to Luck.

What a hoot! The end result for Janet's story was hilarious. But she must run off for some. . . fowl play.

I appreciate everyone's attentions. That was fun to write.

Yes, that was Janet's motorcycle. Don't tell Vicious!

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

Date: Wednesday, August 22, 2277

As Miss Vicious quickly learned, those who'd been outcasted from raider society quickly found that news traveled fast. All it took was a handful of hams.

The ham (or amateur) radio. Although its history was vague, its invention surely happened some time during the late 1800s. With its invention came the promise: anybody who owned one could broadcast unseen electromagnetic waves into midair. As long as these waves were not impeded somehow, ham operators could hear each other from miles away. After the wars its popularity expanded. Hams became yet another tool for communication during peaceful times, for any ham operator who wanted to reach out. To someone in Manassas. To someone in Finland. Wherever a signal could reach and bounce upon the Earth's surface. Using a ham radio did not require a license. For a very long time, hams became almost as popular as telephones.

So, when she had been forcibly removed from Springvale Elementary several weeks before, Vicious had no idea how far-reaching the consequences would be. She'd been sent to the west, and left to die. Odd that they hadn't simply killed her right then and there. Maybe Dogmaster and the others saw something in her. Maybe all of this was some weird challenge. Survive the wastes, and maybe we'll accept you back...

But what Vicious did not know could now hurt her, especially when it came to Dogmaster, the man who'd originally inducted her into one of his gangs. He had inducted her, but she had failed to deliver some much-needed goods early during her 'initiation' phase. Such a simple task, somehow foiled. And for that, she had to pay.

After having her blindfolded and sent away, Dogmaster then simply got onto his ham. Powered it on. He broadcast his dopey voice to anybody using 28 megahertz. "Be on the lookout my west Potomac gangs," he'd said into his radio's mic. "Black female, young, medium height. She was one of us, but she ain't no more. I want all y'all to have some fun with her for a change. Should be coming in from the west. Oh, and she'll be easy to spot. All we left her with was a *flippin* Parkstroller outfit."

And because of this distant message, the sentry who stood on the western edge of Fairfax Ruins was the first to see Vicious as she approached. He was located above her, standing upon a rampart. He spotted her before she spotted him. And he was not fooled by the blastmaster-styled armor she was wearing. Sure, the b---- they'd all heard about was supposed to be wearing professional clothes, but that was no matter. Plenty of time to change into some new gear, somewhere along the way.

"It's go time!" he yelled, readying his weapon.

Vicious was startled. "Yo, I am one of you guys! Can't you see this *crap* I'm wearing? Come on now!"

But it was no use arguing against ignorance. As the sentry readied and steadied, aiming to hit, Miss Vicious Delicious planned her next move.

Oh noes, a cliff hanger! Darn radio waves travel faster than Miss Delicious does. Can't wait to see if/how she gets outta this.

So now we learn more of Miss VD's history, and how she became a Raider on the Run. Dogmaster was a good name choice for the boss in Springvale, as I recall he had a dog with him.

It's like in the movie The Warriors, where a hit was called out on the gang over the radio, and all the other gangs in the city went gunning for them.

"Once a raider, always a raider" - the rule obviously doesn't apply in the Capital Wasteland.

Go get them, Miss Vicious Delicious!

Yeah, a cliffie. Sorry! Last week's chapter was half-baked. I know you'll never get info Fallout, Acadian. I'd be curious to see how you'd approach it. Since you have a military past, is it partially the fact that guns are part of the game?

Vicious was a raider but her past is complicated, SubRosa and Lopov. Although I don't know all of it right now, I can tell you that she was raised somewhat religiously. Maybe I am drawing from my own teenage years, there. A lot of us were confused back then, doing some right and some wrong.

I haven't seen The Warriors. Wonder if it's on Netflix or Hulu? Not on Netflix. Nothing s on Netflix nowadays, except their own Netflix Exclusives. Hulu has WARRIOR and WARRIOR (TV show and movie), but not The Warriors. I also see Desert Warrior.

I found it on You Tube. 1979. There's some gangs called The Furies, The Boppers, and The High Hats. Does any of this sound like the movie you're speaking of?

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"It's go time!" yelled the raider sentry, readying his weapon, a worn-out combat knife.

Vicious was startled. "Yo, I am one of you guys! Can't you see this *crap* I'm wearing? Come on now!"

But it was no use arguing against ignorance. As the sentry readied and steadied, aiming to hit, Miss Vicious Delicious planned her next move. "Dammit!" Which was to simply double back. Turn and high-tail it, back to Fort Independence.

"What are ya *flippin'* scared!?" he called after her, falling behind.

But Vicious was not scared. Only startled, and not very well armed. She knew how it would proceed from here. There would be no convincing going on, no dialog or debate. Despite the fact that she was dressed as one of them, it was obvious her pursuer did not care. A raider on the outskirts would kill for a pack of smokes, if he were desperate enough.

She was running hard now, headed back the way she'd come. "HELP!" Vicious called to the Fort Independence Defender she'd passed a half-hour before. "Help, I'm being attacked!"

"Come back here, you *birch*!" the raider with the worn-out knife called. "You know we're all lookin' for you now!"

Their footfalls echoing. A mutant cicada buzzed somewhere unseen.

Unlike Vicious, the Fort Independence Defender guy was well-armed, also ready for spontaneous combat. It seemed as though he spotted her, then spotted them both. Would he simply shoot them both?

The Defender strolled sideways from behind his short bunker of sandbags, and powered on his weapon, a bona-fide Tesla Rifle. Unlike Vicious and her pursuer, the defender's rifle would be well-maintained. Cared for and oiled, every single day. But the uncertainty! The moment! Who would he go for?

The Defender fired. Pink blasts of energy zapped the air, Vicious could feel the gun's electricity, charging unseen ions everywhere! Fortunately for her, the raider chasing her suddenly lost his arm. Miss Vicious crabbed and rolled onto the ground! ... Making sure she'd not get hit by that Tesla rifle, making sure the defender guy was definitely NOT following her with his aim. Phew! .... The Defender fired again, and just a couple meters away from Vicious herself. She scrambled and got to her feet. Did a backwards spin. By now, she was standing next to the defender. If he was planning to shoot her, she'd at least have some sandbags to hide behind!

But, there was no worry. Within the next second, her pursuer exploded. Fell to the ground! Once somebody's son and perhaps lovingly so, now nothing but a pile of ashes.

Vicious stumbled, and caught her breath.
...Right then and there, she got it.
...Somehow knew it.
...It was as obvious as the sun in the sky.

What had the raider from Fairfax Ruins said just before having his measly life ended? Her thoughts raced. Then she remembered. "Something about 'we're all," she said aloud. Finally, the thought struck. We're all lookin' for you! he had said. WE are all looking for you.

"They," she started, unbelieving. "They all lookin' for me." She felt plainly dumbstruck. "But ... how?" She did not expect this. As the full implication of the Fairfax raider's words sunk in, she righted herself. Squared her shoulders. Looked to the mutt of a pistol she was carrying. And realized. Heading back to the Megaton area would not be as easy as she formerly had assumed.

"But how?" she repeated. "How they all know I'm out here?"

"Hey you," interrupted a voice. A calm and muffled female voice.

Vicious turned, startled for the second time this morning. "Dag. You just saved my life." She smiled at the defender, the defender who was powering down her weapon. Vicious had assumed her savior was a man, not a woman. But to her credit, due to the suit the defender was wearing, it was impossible to tell male from female. All genders looked the same under the bulk of power armor, and this set was definitely not looking made for womanly forms.

"If you're trying to get yourself killed out here," continued the defender, "you mind doing it further away from our bunker?"

"Well, I ain't out here trying to get killed. It's just that--" Vicious left the sentence unfinished. It's just that I thought I was one of them? she'd been about to say. But how would that play now, before this well-armed and well-armored sentinel, who had no qualms about shooting actual raiders on sight?

"I'm Defender Anne Marie Morgan with the Outcasts," the voice under bulks of power armor replied. "Steer clear of here, and you should be able to continue with that whole 'not dying' plan, okay?"

"Okay," Vicious nodded. "But how am I supposed to...."

Again, she left the sentence unfinished. Thought for a moment.

"Uh, nice meeting you, Defender Anne. Again, I must thank you for so kindly saving my life."

The day moved from morning to noon just then. The mutant cicada, which had ceased its annoying song as the firefight commenced, began to buzz again. And suddenly, Miss Vicious had a plan...

"So...that Tesla rifle you got there..."

"Tesla cannon," corrected the defender with a bit of edge in her voice. "Huge difference."

"Uh huh. How many rounds you got in that thing anyway?"

...and this plan would involve a good many of those rounds. The defender's boring stint at guard duty could potentially be not so boring for the rest of the afternoon. In fact, the former raider hoped Defender Marie Anne Morgan would have enough to take down the rest of Fairfax Ruins, as Miss Vicious lured them out of their sorry-ass hidey-holes. One, by one.

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

Fairfax Ruins -- (Fort Independence is the building in the far left-upper corner)

Defender Morgan

"We're all lookin' for you!

Defender Morgan assists

"Hey, whoa, I'm gettin' outta here!"

Wednesday night is Family Night!

These guys just don't learn, do they?

Ragdoll'd

Vicious got this one (Gore Warning.... eww)

At the end of the day, Vicious will Survive

Wow, a truly beautiful shot of Fairfax ruins.

Luring them back to Defender Morgan was clever. I bet that her weapon will need some repairs by the end of the day. Funny, I don't remember this defender at all. I remember some other guy that you can talk to at Fort Independence, and I think he's not wearing his helmet.

LoL, in the middle of all combat shots there's the family night screenie.

Lasers in the sun!

MVD looks like she's missing her right leg in the Gore pic.

Tire iron is the way to go!

A quick question - at what difficulty are you playing? Do you assume that MVD wouldn't be able to deal with those raiders on her own? Just curious.

I'm sure I could make FO work okay but my genre really is medieval fantasy games and there is no shortage of those to keep me busy for probably ever, given how long I stay with one when I like it.

Vicious was lucky to run into that helpful Imperial Legion guard Defender. And, as Lopov said, clever to lure more raiders back to her tesla cannon.

Ah, such a good feeling to know that somebody wants you except when everybody wants you. Hope the plan works out well.

That 1979 movie is what I meant. With a very young James Remar. It was kind of like cyberpunk before cyberpunk. Just the punk and the weirdness, but no cyber. The gangs are all over the top to the point of ridiculousness, with each having a theme in how they dressed and or wore face paint.

Well, that was one way to get rid of a raider. January approves of the electricity. But perhaps not of the exploding people.

I see Miss VD is thinking the same thing I am thinking. Defender Anne Marie makes for a great raider popper!

Wow she vicious on that second to last one!

Lopov: Fairfax is a rather upscale place in Virginia. Upscale shopping malls, upscale spas, upscale restaurants and probably a lot of McMansions. Last time I was down there I was college-aged, and felt way out of place! I think the Bethesda team had some fun portraying Fairfax all torn up! ... Also, I think a lot of Beth's devs at the time were able to glean plenty of inspiration from local surroundings. A lot of them probably took the Metro to work, for instance. Maybe Todd (or some other member of upper management) lived in Fairfax at the time, and so on.

Actually, MVD is doing very well with weapons & armor. Half the raiders carry handguns (as you know) so it's simply a matter of finding pieces which match, and then repairing them side-by-side. Also, raider armor can be mixed 'n' matched (something I did not know) so her C-cup armor has been repaired numerous times.

Difficulty. Um, I'm pretty sure it is Easy or whatever the default position is. I am not as good at Fallout games as you are.


Acadian: Sorry, I wasn't trying to suggest you should try Fallout. I can't help wondering what you'd come up with, though.

For me personally, I assumed a lot of things about the Fallout series, but was surprised that a lot of these things are not always the way I assumed they would be. I assumed the game would be set in the middle of a gigantic war, for instance. Constant explosions and gunfire, and so on. But, once I learned Fallout 3 is set just to the south of where I live I had to try it. If I hated it, at least I would get to see how Beth portrayed the D.C. area in ruins. Thing is, if it were set in some other location, I probably never would have tried it. Right, Lopov?

But the very first moments of the game immediately got my attention. We start Fallout 3 as a baby! That right there was a huge surprise. In fact, I remember just romping around the baby's playpen for an hour or so, back when I first started the game.


macole: Wow, you just clued into the very theme of Vicious's tale. Indeed, the theme of her story (buried underneath the surface plot seen so far) is mostly about acceptance, and being wanted.


SubRosa: Yes, The Warriors does look pretty ridiculous! I am trying to limit my online spending (had a recent charge which I'm going to have to dispute), so unfortunately I don't wanna pay to watch that one. It looks like one of those movies we'd see at the drive-in as teens.

Using Defender Anne Marie to get rid of those raiders was merely an RGM, or Renee Game Method. I like luring enemies. In Elder Scrolls games, they get lured into slicing blade traps or gas rooms, for instance.

The day's late summer warmth was coming to an end, and what a day it had been. Her nerves were frazzled, and her body ached.

Miss Vicious did one final search around the Fairfax Ruins complex, making sure there were no more enemies left. There was just one guy, located in a hidden corner behind a trash bin. This time, she spotted him first. Snuck up on the dude. But he had freaked after she'd surprised him. He had run away, not even trying to fight! ... It seemed as though this last raider was completely unaware what had happened to all his friends. Maybe he'd been passed out drunk all day. After she had gotten in his face and then whacked him one with her rusty lead pipe, he wanted no part of her. He had simply run off to the south, and Vicious decided to just let him go.

But the thing is, it was never her intention to fight any of them.

She was exhausted. Sun was going down. Time to get some sleep. The lady defender at Fort Independence had informed Vicious that no visitors were allowed inside the Independence complex; they'd be shot on sight. So getting some sleep safely behind thick walls was out of the question. And ... maybe Defender Anne Marie Morgan was just a little ticked about meeting Miss Vicious Delicious in the first place, then having to perform all her dirty work.

A wasteland crow cawed, and Vicious thought she heard a distant thunderclap as well. Perhaps a storm was coming in. Miss Vicious found a bedroll to crash upon. Exhaustion nearly wiped the former raider out, right then and there. She sat down instead. Decided to take inventory of all the contents crammed into her packs, laying all her worldly possessions on the floor before her.

-- She still had the clothes she had worn into Tenpenny.

-- She also had a set of lingerie she'd found, then stole from some posh lady's dresser. 'Sexy sleepwear', as it was commonly called.

-- Dozens of rounds of ammo. She'd keep all the 9 millimeter bullets, 10 millimeter bullets, and shotgun pellets. Everything else, she'd eventually sell.

-- Enough food and drink to last for at least two days.

-- Enough chems to knock her into the stratosphere: A tube of morphine. A couple syringes each of Jet and Psycho. A pint of scotch. And so many packs of cigarettes, she'd have to leave some behind to go stale.

-- Three guns in total: a 9mm handgun, 10mm handgun, and Chinese pistol. She'd keep the pistol. The other two guns were mutts she'd scavenged from all the raiders who'd been killed. She couldn't carry all these pieces at once, so she hid the two larger handguns in a metal box near her bedroll. She would remember where she put them, and maybe weeks from now she would need to retrieve them, assuming a new group of raiders didn't locate them first.

Miss Vicious smiled. Travelling the wastes for several days, and luckily, she had some things to show for this. Plenty to eat, plenty to drink, she could even get high if she wanted. But first thing she did was knelt down upon the bedroll. She bowed her head. Since she no longer had her King James bible to guide by, so she began to improvise her thoughts into words.

"Dear God," she muttered quietly. "I hope you out there. I hope you are ... listening,"

She paused, as emotions overcame. She did not fight it when tears began to flow.

"I did some really bad things today. I did," she paused again, to wipe her face. "I know this. I don't know if what I did, what I got that Anne Morgan lady involved with, whether it was right in your eyes, or wrong. I ... I am so confused!"

She realized she was speaking aloud just then, and lowered her voice back to a whisper. Took a moment to make sure nobody was sneaking up on her. Gazed at the shadows, now getting very long. Heard nothing. Wiped her eyes again.

"It was not my intention to kill them! Why they want to attack me, anyway? What did I do? I had no choice! But. And, as you may notice, I left one of them to ... fend for himself. To live another day. Because it ain't right, God. It ain't right, what happened today. ... But it is what it is. It is what the Capitol Wasteland demands. Right? None of us were born into..."

She stopped and listened again. Gazed around. Nothing. The sun was gone from the sky.

"That is all. I-- that is all."

She carefully gathered all the things she'd definitely need in the future back into her pack; preparing for tomorrow. Then she laid down upon the bedroll, all the adrenaline she'd expended this day, now completely diminished. She was asleep before she knew it.




"Fairfax Freddy, you out there? Come in!" said the man with the dopey voice from roughly two miles away, speaking into his recently-Abraxo'd microphone. "Yo, Fairfax Freddy. You read? *Ship.* Where they all at?" he asked his nearby left-hand guy. "This ain't right."

"Like I said sir," answered the dopey-voice guy's left-hand guy, the one they called Cheese Head. "Seems like something happened out there at the ruins. We got word from Freddy himself that the lady you had sent out into the western wastes was spotted. Not wearing the Parkstroller suit, but in full raider gear. A bunch of them were out there and ready. Last we heard. Then... nothing. No word from Fairfax Ruins, from Freddy, or anyone else."

"What the *flip*," said the man with the dopey voice, really angry now. He took a swig from his beer, a draw from his Lucky Strike. "What the *flip* happened?"

"Who knows? Maybe Talon Company. Maybe the Enclave. Certainly not the lady we sent out there. That traitor. No way she could have handled them all herself."

Cheese Head's boss glowered, but said nothing.

"And it can't be the Fort Independence Outcasts, if that's what you're thinking," Cheese Head offered. "Though Fairfax and Independence are side-by-side, there's supposed to be some sort of contract between those two. You know, we stay where we are, the outcasts stay where they are. That sort of thing. Never been a problem before."

"A'iight," said Cheese Head's boss, already calming his dopey dog-like voice. He thought a moment.

Becoming head of all raider gangs of the Potomac region had not been easy. One had to be flexible, always ready for a change of plans. Unfortunately, this next plan he was thinking of would cut into some profits. He'd have to spare a few men, at least for a day or two. But this was why he had become the man he was today. The man at the very top.

"First thing tomorrow, we send a few flunkies out there. Our best recruits. We got to get to the bottom of this one, a'ight? And we gonna lose some time with that deal we was talkin' about. But this got to get done. 'Cause this ain't right."

Cheese Head agreed, not that he had much choice. In the morning, a basic scout & search team would be sent. It would cost them some time and some caps. But it had to get done. It had to get done.

Uh oh those guys are after Vicious!

I really liked the prayer part, totally unexpected.

I'd say ditch the Chinese gun and keep either the 9mm or 10mm.

’A wasteland crow cawed, and Vicious thought she heard a distant thunderclap as well. Perhaps a storm was coming in.’
- - Sounds like Stormcrow may be approaching!

Like Lopov said, Miss VD’s prayer was neat.

Uh-oh, sounds like the baddies are gonna send some more flunkies her way.

A storm is coming. Or perhaps, a Stormcrow? Evildoers had best beware!

Like Lopov said, I would ditch that Commie pea shooter, and gear up with a real 'Merican firearm. Freedom!

Uh oh, Dopey and Cheesy are sending out more goons after VD.

Lol, VD. Dopey and Cheesehead better hope they don’t catch her!

Yes, I know. Unfortunately this is a Renee roleplay and she's keeping the pistol. Don't worry, she will definitely upgrade pretty soon. Here's a hint. If anyone has watched The Wire, think of Omar's favorite weapon.



Whenever I game with a character and really get into her or his tale, I sometimes find myself surprised. Snaaty's desire for a gun, for instance. Another good example was Luci Pheria, my insane dark elf who was loosely based on Wizard of Oz's Wicked Witch of the West. I was totally repulsed when she stopped in the Oblivion tutorial, and spent 3 days doing nothing but eating rat's meat, wisp stalks, and brewing foul potions. Yuck. Fortunately, MVD's habit of prayer does not repulse me, even though I myself am not religious!

Luci became the Wicked Witch of the West Weald, by the way, after taking Weatherleah for her own.



Hee hee I was hoping you'd notice!

I have been putting secret phrases and words into almost all my stories since Kahreem, circa roughly 2015, and I have noticed other writers do this occasionally as well. I was hoping somebody would catch the Jane's Addiction references in Jayne Goodfall's Goblin Lady story. No JA fans at Chorrol, though.


I surely hope not .Those flunkies are real, by the way. I hemmed and hawed and then finally added them into the actual gameworld. Either they will notice her hiding spot, or they won't.

Next story has already been started, and should appear on Sundas. I mean (wrong game) Sunday. Unlike my usual T for Teen-rated stories, it will include some Rated M stuff. Maybe I will have you moderators preview that portion of the tale, just to make sure it'll fly.

Last week's chapter: Miss Vicious spends the night in Fairfax Ruins, while Dogmaster sends a search team to find out what happened there

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

Date: early morning, Thursday, August 23, 2277

If Dogmaster got to the top by being demanding and ruthless, yet flexible and (at times) understanding, his left-hand man Cheese Head got to where he was by doing what he was told, but also, having that special left-hand man ability to read between his boss's words. So when Dogmaster told him 'we need to send a team to Fairfax Ruins first thing tomorrow,' Cheese Head knew what his boss really meant. Which was 'we need to send a team to Fairfax Ruins now.' Because but you said we'd send the team first thing tomorrow would not work, in the morning when the Dog was already demanding answers.

Right away, Cheese began searching the halls and corridors of their hideout. To the Cheese-man's relief, Joe Mahma was available. Better yet, he was lucid, and maybe even fully sober. Joe would make a good SS (Spontaneous Sarge). He'd be able to recruit up a team, and have them ready to go by midnight at the latest.

...Because everyone loved Joe Mahma, and Joe Mahma would kick their asses if they didn't.



Miss Vicious woke the next morning to bright morning skies. She was surprised she had slept through the entire night. She lay upon the bedroll for a few minutes, listening, always listening. All she heard was a whole bunch of nothing.

She got up. Said her morning prayer, thanking the Lord for keeping her safe as she slept. Realized she was thirsty. Looked in her backpack. Unfortunately, nothing to drink. But this might be okay. She was pretty sure there was a working fire hydrant on the street below. Irradiated water, yummy.

But first, she remembered she had some Psycho in her pack. Out of nowhere, she suddenly craved it. Nobody was around, of this she was sure.

She knelt, dug through her pack again, and retrieved the chem. She found some Abraxo cleaner as well, and though alcohol would be better at cleaning her skin before she injected, out here in the Wasteland, you did what you had to do to get by. Her one previous boyfriend, who went by the name of Jacked, was the one who showed her how to use a syringe. Go for the skin, not the vein, not until you get good at this he had told her not too long ago. So she did this now, injecting mid-point into her forearm, at roughly 45 degrees.

Psycho was not meant to be used this way; its purpose had originally been to aid those who were in combat. But in raider society, a lot of rules could get bent or broken, of course.

She pushed the Psycho's plunger. The chem's resulting rush hit her instantly. She plopped right down on the bedroll and exhaled, eyes closed, heartbeat doubled. Savoring the moment, for it would not last long. She heard a late summer mutant cicada, buzzing far away. Noticed light sweat upon her brow Sun in the sky, blazing high above. She rolled her head backward. And...

... thought she heard something.

She concentrated hard. A bit of scuffling on pavement. Nowhere nearby, but there it was again. Yes, someone was definitely here in Fairfax.

As she gathered her things, she heard a low murmur of a voice, as well. With the drug pumping through her body, a bit of paranoia began to zoom through her thoughts.

She readied her pistol. Strode quietly down a set of stairs. Made a quick pivot, and aimed directly into an area which once contained a door, back when Fairfax Ruins was not so ruined. Nobody there. Peered out the doorway, which abutted to an alleyway. Nobody to her right. A brick wall in front of her. And then... a subtle click to her left. Somebody had just lit his or her cigarette. She glanced to her left, and there they were. She counted five of them, all of them Potomac-area raiders.

"Wait, you hear something?" one of them asked.

By then, all of them were scrambling, she could hear their footfalls, while Vicious herself was not waiting to see if she'd been spotted or not. She dashed to her right, and down the alleyway. Ran a hundred feet or so, not bothering to try being stealthy. Made a sharp right, and then another. Tried to get away, by leaving Fairfax to the north.

"A-ha! Found you!"

"Dammit!"

The previous day had been a nightmare of blasts and bloodshed, and she was not going to repeat her actions today, even as they attacked her.

"Call a doctor!" she could hear one of them say with a typical Jersey accent. "We got a bleeder!"

Gunfire began to hail, single shots, fortunately not an automatic! She began to weave her movements into an S pattern, left, right, left, right, all to avoid being hit, but one of them caught into the back of her armor.

"Kick ass!" a lady with a gun screamed.

Vicious jumped over a small rise of rubble, then scaled a wall. Strafed to the left. A bloatfly was suddenly hovering in the air to her side, fat and alert. Miss Vicious rolled right by it, and kept running. From behind, she then heard at least two of the raiders get distracted, as they took care of the gigantic insect in their way.

She jumped over a boulder, careful not to break any bones! The wonderful thing: on the other side of this boulder was a small gulley, which was roughly twenty feet below. She could move safely down there, which was all kinds of wonderful. A building was immediately to the gulley's right, and this building was surrounded on its far side by a tall fence. By the sound of it, the raiders were already falling behind. She crouched down and (as quietly as possible) began to look for the building's entrance. Did it actually have a door, and would she be able to open this door?

The answer to both questions was yes. Vicious stalked inside. She had no idea where she was, but maybe it had been some sort of car dealership. There were several Chryslus vehicles inside.

She spent several minutes waiting, and (once again) listening hard. Nobody came in, and there were no sounds from outside. She had apparently lost them.

"So much for a tranquil morning's stroll back to Megaton," she mused.



Two hours later...

"Those monsters...." said the boy who'd run up to Vicious, nearly knocking her over. "They're gonna get me!" He was huffing and sweaty, in some sort of panic.

"Jesus kid," she answered. "You just scared the *crap* out of me. You can't see I'm out here tryin' to be quiet?"

The boy, whoever he was, looked to be about twelve. He had tears in his eyes, but also a defiant look upon his face.

"Hey look. Sorry. You did scare me though. Why don't you start over? Tell me what this is about?"

"Those... THINGS!" the kid was shouting. "They keep coming! They're coming after me! They scare me! Make it stop!"

Vicious looked all around. "I don't see nobody. What things you talkin' bout? Raiders? There was some raiders after me not long ago."

"THOSE things! It's al their fault," said the kid. "They keep coming after me!"

"Um. But I don't see nobody," she shrugged.

The kid was panting. Out of breath.

"Hey, my name is Vic--" she paused. "Taneesha," she continued. "My name is Taneesha." It just seemed appropriate, using her real name with this child. "What's your name?"

But the kid was in a frenzy, looking wildly all around. "No... those things! They're right behind me! Leave me ALONE!"

"Hey, maybe if you keep your voice down, you know, they might not hear you. Be like me," she suggested in a tone of confidence. "You just saw me out here sneaking around, right? I been out here on my own for a couple years --"

"No, you don't care!" He waved his fist. "The grown-ups never care! Well fine! You'll die out here too!"

Vicious rolled her eyes. "I don't see nobody, though, as I said three times now. Ain't nobody here."

"Please don't get mad at me," the kid said, suddenly apologetic. "I'm scared! Just please help me. Promise you'll help me!"

The boy then explained that 'those big things' were all over Greyditch, a location Vicious knew well. The place had been rudimentarily settled some time ago, by several roaming groups. Seemed as though it might become another Big Town soon enough, maybe even another Megaton. Vicious pressed him for more details, however, whatever sort of monsters had invaded Greyditch, the boy would not (or could not) divulge at first. But after a few minutes more, he finally told her. Fire ants, he said.

"Uh, fire ants?" she raised her voice, then lowered it. "Look, I don't know if I can help you. Matter of fact, I definitely can not. I mean, look at me, look at what I got. All I gots for a weapon is this cheap-ass pistol," she smirked. "Look here, though. I am headed up to Megaton, if I can remember how to get there. You want to come with me? You are more than welcome... uh, whatever your name is."

The kid's mood had calmed immensely as Vicious used her soothing voice, the voice they all called "delicious" back in raider society. But now that she was defying him, he was back to being frenzied again.

"You don't listen! They NEVER listen!"

"But--"

"Fine, be like that. I'm going to find somebody who will actually HELP me!"

Just like that, the kid ran away. Though it broke her heart, Vicious could not bring herself to go after him. She was simply not prepared. Maybe if the kid had run up to her a month before she could have done so. But not today.

Not much later, she found herself above the village of Greyditch, standing on a wall. Indeed there were some monsters far below, and they were the gigantic fire ants which the kid had described. She even took a shot at one, harming it with her cheap Chinese pistol. She pierced the thing's exoskeleton, which barely slowed it down. And there were a lot of them below.

From where she stood, she was safe, so she took her handheld device out of her side pouch, and activated its map. "Damn!" she said, realizing she had already passed Megaton, which was far to the north. In any event, staging a one-woman attack on the monsters of Greyditch was not going to happen. Not without some serious firepower and a flame-retardant suit.

She began walking on the wall, calmly heading north, too far above the ants for their fires to burn. As she moved away from Greyditch, a woman passed silently on the street below. This woman looked Hispanic, and had her gun in both hands. Not a raider, and not with any of the Wasteland's other official groups. She appeared to be sneaking her way toward Greyditch, rather than leaving the place.

Both ladies glanced at one another. Vicious nodded to the Hispanic lady from up above, and the Hispanic lady nodded back.

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

Taking inventory (from last week's episode)

Raider Team arrives

Pursuit!

Hiding in Chryslus Dealership

Those...THINGS!

Vicious spots one of those things

Splat!

I have a couple posing mods (Realism Poses is one of them) and it says "use the console and enter the code" for these poses to work, but the mod never says where these poses can be found. I tried another mod made by Jonas, but these do not work, which sucks because I wanted to use some poses for today's pictures. Anybody who has used either of these, let me know.

It’s a good thing Ms. Vicky D. had that psycho! She needed to be especially fleet of foot to escape those raiders!

When I see that kid running towards me I try to head the other direction!

Ooo I wonder who Vicky D’s new friend is?!

Joe Mahma! Awesome.

A close, psycho-fueled escape from the next Raider team.

Don't worry Delicious, Stormcrow took care of the fire ants. Funny thing, according to the game she is Hispanic too! (That is her race).


Khajiit: I know what you mean. I cringe when I see that kid. He usually appears out of nowhere when I am raiding the Super Duper Mart. Usually I am totally unprepared to taking on all the fire ants whenever he arrives.



I looked up Realism Poses, and I don't know what they mean by "zoom out and use the code" But it also says that you can use the console and type in player.playidle GA01 - GA25. The pictures on the page also has the numbers for each pose they depict. That is pretty much how all the Fallout pose mods work. You have to use the player.playidle xxx command to turn them on or off.

Glad Vicious got away from that next batch of raiders. Don't feel badly about the kid. I suspect no amount of talking would have worked. Someone new . . . who's not shooting at her and knows how to sneak. Could be helpful.

Jacked was a good teacher when it comes to applying drugs.

I was looking forward to Taneesha's encounter with Joe Mahma and his goons, but maybe it was better that she escaped instead to face them with her low-grade weapon. Too bad that fire ants weren't closer, they'd burn down those raiders.

I like Bryan Wilks and a lot of my characters helped him, but just as the Khajiit says, sometimes I prefer not to meet him.

Was that Marge?

I love the Pursuit Pic, even the GNR Tower is seen in the background. Taneesha is a fast runner!

Regarding poses: Use tfc, then either click on the player or type player.playidle [ID of the animation/pose]. IDs for poses can usually be found on the mod's site, there are also lots of vanilla idles available, that you can download from the NEXUS and use as poses in your game. For instance player.playidle npcsmokingidle will make your PC smoke for a while. Don't forget to use tfc beforehand or it won't work!

It is supposed to be overcast all weekend, so I don't know if I'll game with Vicious tomorrow. Her next chapter is going to require I game with her as I write.

By the way, Lopov is the one who educated me more thoroughly on how to insert needles. So thanks, I am afraid of needles, just as SubRosa has a fear of spiders. So it did make me a little squeamish to write that part.

Cheshire Khajiit: Yes, some of mine try to do whatever they can to avoid Brian too! Or at least they zoom through the dialog options so they can get back to whatever they were up to before getting forcegreeted. Let us know what you're up to gaming-wise, by the way. I'm all curious about your character.

SubRosa: I had a whole Joe Mahma (yo momma) joke written as Joe gets recruited, but I wasn't sure if people might get offended. And also, it was too distracting in the early part of the last chapter, it kinda messed up the flow, so I axed it.

Whoa! That's so perfect. In my world Marge N. Overra (my first female character) took care of those ants, but January works as well.



Wait, what pictures? Oops. Maybe I missed that. Are there any pose mods which don't use the console? I assume you're using something for Jan's game. If not, then oops.


Acadian: exactly. I don't feel bad either. I approach Fallout games similar to Elder Scrolls-- at least one of my characters took care of those ants.

Lopov: Yes, that was Marge N. Overra, my Scientific character who I rolled way back in 2013. Nice catch!

Again, do all pose mods use the console? Oblivion has a mod which allows me to use the in-game menu instead, which is a lot easier.

I've only used pose mods that require a console. Maybe some came with the in-game menu, but I don't know of any.

All the pose mods for the Fallout games that I have ever used require the console. It is not hard.

First go into TFC mode.

Then type in Player.playidle <pose name>

Some of the poses will run a set course and then reset to normal. Other ones will be permanent. You can usually remove them by typing the same pose command a second time.

But it is always safest to quicksave before you use any poses. That way you always have a way out.

The main thing is to make a list of which poses you like, since you will never remember them.

Cool, thanks a lot for your help on pose mods. That's a good idea to reference pose codes I will like.

It was sunny yesterday and I wrote most of the story, but then I had some mod problems and got frustrated. I hope to resolve these probs and so the story will appear later this week.

Date: 12:37 AM 08.25.77, Thursday, August 23, 2277

Crouching and crawling, moving, unsure. The day was hot, but not sweltering. Gunfire blasts from somewhere unseen. *Bkkssh!!!* ... Something exploded across the river. Vicious side-stepped behind a mailbox, taking cover. A small battle was going on over there, and it wouldn't stop until at least one opponent was down.

She shook her head. "This never will end," she said to the mailbox, which had Made in Baltimore, 2063 stamped into its side. ... Two-hundred and fourteen years ago! ... She gripped its warm metal exterior. Another explosion across the river. "What would it'a been like, before all this?" Vicious asked the mailbox.



According to the exalted consensus (statistics in history books and newsreels) chances are she'd be comfortably middle class. More educated for sure. But even if she'd grown up in poverty, her life and surroundings would be nothing as bad as this! Bombs and guns and gigantic mutant creatures.

Pshew!! a bullet whizzed by.

Though the ministers who'd raised her had done the best they could, Miss Vicious couldn't help but wonder. What would it have been like to go to a shopping mall? Polished floors, dreamy music, not a speck of dust to be seen. Maybe she'd go there with all her high school friends, riding in the back of a mighty Corvega, her hair freshly-straightened at some salon. Maybe she'd have a girlfriend, someone she could trust, and they'd go on double-dates. Maybe she'd have a boyfriend, who wasn't a chem-addicted fiend. Maybe she'd have a part-time job in some pleasant air-conditioned office, looking forward to brighter things and bigger money as the prospect of college loomed.

...Or maybe none of that would happen. Maybe she was glorifying the past; maybe she'd have a life just as screwed up back then as she did today. But there was no way it could be as bad as this, hunkering behind this mailbox to avoid stray gunfire.

After another few seconds of noise, it seemed as though the fight across the river finally came to its end. Whoever was left standing over there was probably flooded with adrenaline! Ears ringing, thoughts distracted. Vicious had been in those shoes enough times. But, it was over. Now would be a good time to go.

She patted the mailbox, then remembered it'd be very wise to change out of her raider gear, and back into ordinary clothing.

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

Two hours later...



"Welcome ... toooo ... Megaton. Friendliest town ... around."

Vicious passed by Deputy Weld, the cheap robot sentry who stood guard outside of Megaton's entrance. She felt a certain chill as she neared the town's inner gate. How long had it been since she'd last been here? She thought for a moment. Almost two years, was the answer.

"Hungry ... pard'ner?" said the robot in its tinny voice from behind her. "Try the Brass Lantern."

"Guwd I hope they don't give me any brahmin crap," she muttered to herself, as she pushed the town's creaky inner gate open.

And there he was. Lucas Simms, The man who had forced Miss Vicious out of town two years ago, walking straight toward her. Tall, dark, but not so handsome. He was sporting a silly cowboy hat, wearing an armless coat despite the day's heat. This was the man who'd told her to leave Megaton, and never come back.

Vicious nibbled her lip. Of course, back in those days, she hadn't been given her current nickname, yet. Therefore, nobody in Megaton knew her as Vicious Delicious.

"Another newcomer," Lucas said pleasantly.

She steeled herself as the tall man drew near.

"Hello there," he said in his baritone voice. "Name's Lucas Simms. Town sheriff, and mayor too, when the need arises."

Vicious said nothing at first. Obviously, the man, this mayor or whatever, was not recognizing her. "Tawny," she replied. "Tawny Jones. Uh. Been awhile since I been in Megaton."

"The quiet type, huh?" Lucas was still smiling. "Fine. Might help keep you out of trouble. I hope you're not some weirdo. Got enough of those already."

"Me? Oh no, not me. I just here to visit the Church of Atom, sir." Vicious thought back to the blonde she'd met in Tenpenny. Now there was a weirdo. "That church is still here, right?"

Lucas did not answer her question verbally, instead, he gestured. "I'm glad we understand each other," he said, pointing to the church. "Now, is there something I can help you with?"

And there really was nothing he could help her with, so she simply walked away. He didn't recognize me! she realized. ... Was it my hairstyle? Vicious thought backwards in time again, back to when she was seventeen. Surely she had a different hairdo back then. But she was also younger. Skin not so rough. Face not so weathered by frequent outdoor weather. And no fights. No lowlife thug nonsense. Not in those days.

Overall, did it matter? The fact that Lucas did not remember her was a good thing. She relaxed.

"Hello," a settler greeted as she walked by, lost in thought.

Vicious paused in front of The Brass Lantern, Megaton's semi-outdoor eatery. Jenny Stahl was still here, roasting something yummy. Jericho, the town bully, strode up and began to give Jenny some *crap* about whatever. It was always something with that guy. Across the plaza was Megaton's gigantic, unexploded bomb. And before this bomb were some of Megaton's settlers, standing in the radioactive water which surrounded the bomb.

"Each of us shall know peace! Shall know an end to pain!"

Confessor Cromwell, giving yet another sermon.

"I urge you my friends. Come! Drink with me and pray... pray to Glorious Atom! I give unto you. I beg of you, to use me as your vessel guide me into--"

Vicious did not need to hear the rest; all that nonsense about how the bomb would save them all, or whatever. She began to walk away. The Church of Atom would shelter her while she stayed in town, but she didn't have to subscribe to their ludicrous theories.

"Behold!" the preacher continued behind her. Silly man, taking in those rads by the minute. "He is coming with the clouds! And every one of us shall witness Atom's glow!"

"Yeah, right," Vicious muttered, heading to see if Moriarty's still existed. Rain began to fall just as she reached Megaton's saloon.

//////////////////

Afternoon was getting late, it had been a long day.

She sidled into the saloon, and up to its bar. Rain pattering outside. The bar was somewhat crowded with people, smoke in the air. Vicious lit a cigarette of her own. A ghoul was tending bar, while an Asian man wearing combat armor argued in the next room with the older dude whose name Vicious forgot. The dude who always wore a suit, and sat in that big, comfy chair.

"Hey smoothskin, you need something?" asked the ghoul.

Vicious checked her caps, and was surprised to see she had quite a few. Being cautious, she ordered a beer, which was the cheapest thing on the menu. Mm, refrigerated beer. She took a long swallow, as Gob (the bartender) began to tell the former raider his life story, instead of the other way around. Vicious looked around. Nobody noticed her. Not even a glance of recognition. This was good, this was good.

In the next room, the Asian man's voice began to rise.


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

Deputy Weld greets Vicious

Megaton Plaza (these pics are mostly for Acadian to see how dilapidated Megaton is)

Mayor / Sherriff Lucas Simms

Megaton's Bomb

Moriarty's Saloon

Bar Scene


Vicious leveled up to 2 during this session! I gave her the Thief perk, and dumped points into Energy Weapons, Lockpick, Small Guns, Sneak, Speech... I forget what else.

A Baltimore mailbox!

I kind of doubt that Miss V's life would have been a whole lot better before the war. It just would have been a different kind of horrible. The Fallout world's society froze in the 1950s. So segregation, racism, misogyny, etc... The opening for Fallout 4 directly mentions that, and the social unrest it sparked. At least in the Post War, she can drink out of any fountain, and sit anywhere she wants on a bus.

Cho is in the bar!

Megaton is probably my favorite Fallout town. I love the way it perches around the bomb crater.

VD's musing conversation with the mailbox during the firefight was superbly done - I loved it!

Haha, worshiping a bomb I guess is no dumber than worshiping Molag Bal. As Forest Gump would say, 'Stupid is as stupid does'.

Good screenies to show the folks involved and, as you say, devastation to Megaton.

I have some contrary thoughts about this, but this isn’t the thread for that (there may not be a thread suitable for that discussion). Maybe I could post it in the “All Things Fallout” thread? *edit* Nevermind. It seems Civil Rights as a whole were pretty much thrown out the window because of the war. The Chinese Americans may have had it the worst though, as they were rounded up and thrown into concentration camps like the Japanese were during WWII.

Anyway, Renee, like Acadian, I really enjoyed the mailbox musings. Also, nice add in with Cho!

Neat story!

I like her thoughts while "hiding" behind the mailbox. I guess that in life it can often be, that an individual wonders, what would be IF we were born sooner or in some other environment, with different upbringing etc.

It's Cho arguing with Burke and flirting with Lucy West.

Nice shots of Megaton, the sky looks ominous in the saloon pic.

Hey, SubRosa, happy Sunday! Yes, that is something we can ponder... not just Vicious but any of us. I myself don't think I'd have it better if I lived in the past, definitely not, if I lived in Blood Raven's days. But maybe if I lived in a world full of bombs and constant gunfire, I'd not be as content.

Wow, you really think that is Cho?

I had a quick look at Vicious's horoscope. Not sure if that link will work, but she has Sun, Mercury, and Venus in Cancer, and Moon in Pisces. Very much water and therefore emotion, perception. She feels situations and people before she engages. She does have that Cancerian thing, where she has a somewhat cautious personality until you get to know her. She is not outward and overt, at first. She keeps her emotions in check, but is also ruled by them at times.

Ascendant in Capricorn. The rising sign is how we project, what we show. And she shows Earth. Very much so. Like when she was crying and praying to god. She's not going to show that side of her at all, around people she doesn't know well. She wants to appear more "put together" and confident. Both feet on the ground, even if

Overall, her horoscope is not a very conflictive one, full of energies pulling against each other, but I did sense she's got some sort of discordant drive. Why would she become a raider, after being raised religiously? And *bam* there it is--Mars in Leo squared by Uranus in Taurus. Mars = our outward drive to get stuff done, how our energy gets allocated, and it's squared by Uranus, the planet which does everything "wrong". The planet which does not follow those rules. It rotates sideways, for instance. This creates a desire to try new things at its most positive, but violence can definitely be a destructive side-effect of this.

Oh, Moon square Jupiter, that is interesting too. I can't go into any more great detail in this post... I'll be sitting here all day! But that is another aspect to take notice of.

She's not an overly dynamic "go-getter" type of person like Cho or some of our others. But she does have that one conflict in her chart which causes her to structure unusual moments in her life.


Very astute, Acadian, about worshipping a bomb being no better than worshiping Molag Bal. Personally I think Confessor Cromwell and his followers have had a little too many rads (slang for radiation in the Fallout world) going through their systems. There are a lot of oddballs like Cromwell in Fallout 3. I'd say 3 has some of the more odder characters, while New Vegas has the better story / quest-driven side. But the oddballs in 3 definitely set the atmospheres, make the gameworld more fun.


Yes, it's hard to say, Khajiit. Since the Fallout games are supposed to be an alternate reality, maybe all the more negative things about the immediate postwar world (WWII, that is) would have gotten brushed aside as decades rolled by. As you know, I like to think that the time from WWII to 2077 were not static, with very little progress, whether we're talking about music or civil rights or technology or whatever. Equal(er) rights seem to have taken a hold at some point, so Vicious does not really have a need to go there in her thoughts.

I do like my character's musings for sure. She prefers to picture a glorious world, with opportunity and possibility as definite options. That's Jupiter in Sagittarius squaring her Moon. Jupiter = expansion and even risk-taking, while the Moon is one's imagination, emotions, and so on.


Now Lopov, again, why do you think that is Cho? Can't he just be a guy who resembles my Lone Wanderer?

"Megaton is obsolete. The last vestige of a cobbled, desperate past. It needs to ... go away. And you're going to see that it does."

Those were the last words the wannabe gangster Mister Burke spoke to the Asian man in the next room, before everything went to hell fast in Moriarty's Saloon. A few moments' prior, Miss Vicious had taken a seat at the bar. Gulping, then nursing the beer she'd bought for 5 caps. The bar was noisy. Patrons in conversation, most of them chatting about nothing special. The bar's radio crackling with static, which caused the ghoul bartender to abandon telling Vicious the story of his life (not that she was disappointed). Eyes wandering about the semi-crowded room. The former raider had completely relaxed by now, reveling in her newfound obscurity. Happy to be viewed as just another Capitol Wasteland settler going for a buzz with her golden, refrigerated beverage. She had plenty of caps. Maybe she'd even purchase a second.

"Dammit!" Gob the bartender exclaimed, smacking the bar's stubborn radio. "I just had Galaxy News Radio an hour ago! Now, it's all gone to hell."

"Gob, will you just give it up, already?!" said the brunette gal in her husky voice. Vicious remembered this gal from two years before, but could not exactly remember her name. Nola or Nora, something like that.

"Excuse me Nova," said the ghoul in a tone which resembled pebbles grinding against each other. "If you haven't noticed, this is a bar! And all bars should have proper music playing. It sets the mood. It sets the atmosphere. Who wants to listen to static? Hello?"

Vicious took another swallow, doing her best to drown out their conversation. By now her beer was almost gone. Time for a follow-up. But to everyone's surprise, this was the moment when it all began.

"You want me to do WHAT?" said the Asian man in the next room, doubling his voice in volume. It seemed as if he was shouting purposely, so everyone in Moriarty's could hear him. "You and your associates are both douchebags, and I'm tired of this nonsense. Both of you can GO TO HELL!"

"I can assure you," said the man in the suit, his voice also rising. "I'm not one to be trifled with! Why do you knuckle-draggers always insist on doing things the hard way?!"

By now, everyone had gone silent, listening for whatever would come next. All except for the static-driven radio, which kept crackling without a word. Vicious got up from her bar stool to have a look, clutching at her near-empty bottle.

"Whatever, dude," said the Asian man. "I'm putting a stop to this right now. *Frack* going to Lucas Simms, he's had his chance to take you on, yet has done nothing. And so I say this now... NOBODY is going to destroy Megaton. Not you, and not your hidden A-hole associate."

"Oh yeah?" said the man in the suit, getting up and going for his piece. "And what are you gonna do about it?"

"Say hello to my Louisville Slugger, loser!" The Asian man grabbed the baseball bat from his back, going into a wide-footed stance, aiming to maim...

The resulting noise was sudden and VERY loud, especially in this confined, metal space. Gunfire from the man in the suit, a series of cracks and smacks from the baseball bat wielded by the Asian as he hopped, skipped, and danced from side to side, catching the suited-man's elbow here, his torso there. Everyone scattered, but nobody fled! ... Another crack! A grunt! The two men rolled on the floor, stirring some dust. A chair got knocked into miscellaneous stuff. Another blast from Mister Burke's gun, most of its ammo going straight into the nearest wall! ... And then finally, a sound similar to a hammer splitting open a large piece of mutfruit, SPLAT!!! ... Though Vicious could not see exactly (other bar-goers obscured her view), she knew exactly what it was, and did not particularly wish to gander the wannabe gangster's crushed-open head.

Blood was pooling in the next room.

With the death of Mister Burke over, most of Moriarty's customers burst with applause, happy about something which Vicious did not yet understand. Not until Gob the bartender explained what Mister Burke, the man in the suit, was all about. ... "Guy had some sort of bug up his ass about blowing up the bomb here in Megaton. Which means all of us would have been blown to smithereens, if he was serious. Of course, none of us took him all that seriously," Gob said. "But maybe he meant what he was saying, somehow. Who knows, right? Who knows."

By now, the Asian man had cleaned off his bat, and was sitting at the bar, waving away a drink which the blonde lady at a nearby table offered to him. As if nothing had happened. Mister Burke would be somebody else's mess to clean up, apparently.

Miss Vicious Delicious sat down next to him. "I'll have another," she told Gob.

Just another day in the Capitol Wasteland.



After her second beer, Vicious was ready to go for a tinkle. Moriarty's sole toilet consisted of an alcove set off to the side, with only a flimsy sheet hanging from its doorway for privacy. Fortunately, Megaton had dedicated restroom shacks for men, and for women. It had been yet another long day, full of adventure, guns, and now a bloody baseball bat. She was looking forward to spending a few moments alone, before heading to the Church of Atom, where she'd hopefully arrange herself a bed to sleep upon.

She entered the Women's Restroom, which was blessedly empty. Walked into a stall, closed its door. Laid her lead pipe and Chinese pistol upon the stall's trash receptical. Weary she was, but the excitement of that surprise attack was already fading away. "Just another day in the Capitol Wasteland," she chuckled as she relieved herself. She realized she was slightly buzzed from the beers. Nowhere near to being sloshed, but her head was pleasantly swimmy. Maybe she'd go for a third. But then, securing a bed in the Church of Atom might become more difficult, as other settlers grabbed their cots.

"Yo, girl."

Vicious stiffened, readying her pistol by instinct. It was a man's voice, standing somewhere within the shack. She looked under the door in front of her, and could see no feet. Shooting through the door, going for an easy wounding, would not be an option.

"Yo girl," his voice was low, as if he was trying not to draw attention from anyone who might be just outside. "Say something. I know you in there."

"Damn right I am," she answered, pulling up her trousers left-handed, while keeping her pistol ready and pointed. "The *flip* you doin' in here? Don't you know this is the ladies room, fool?"

The male voice apparently did not care. "I know who you is, girl. You was livin' here couple years back. Don't know your name, but I know who you is."

"Are," she corrected. "I know who you are, fool."

"Huh?"

"You got about two seconds to get the *flip* outta here, before I start wailing."

"I know who you ... are," he ignored her warning, but heeded her grammar lesson, "and I want to talk to you before--"

But he never got the chance to finish his statement. "HELP!!!" Vicious screamed, banging upon the stall's inner wall one side, and the shack's thin metal bulwark on the other. "HELP!!! RAPE!!! RAAAAPE!!!" The entire restroom (being mostly made of tin) was shaking a bit.

The man cursed, telling her to keep her voice down, but of course that was not on her agenda. Within another five seconds, he gave up! Vacated the Women's Room in a hurry. She could hear his feet scuffling, and the shack's door opening then slamming shut. Vicious used the opportunity to rush out of the stall, gun pointed and ready! A moment later, somebody opened the shack's entry door, and began to rush in. Vicious's trigger finger gave a few ounces of pull.

"Hey! Hey, what's going on here?" Somebody was rushing in. Are you alright?"

It was the blonde lady from the bar. Vicious searched her memory a second. Lucy West. Vicious relaxed, put her cheap, tarnished pistol back in its holster. "Hey," Vicious said forcefully, almost shouting. "Did you see some fool go rushing out of here? Sounded like he was moving in a hurry?"

"No! Why, no!" Lucy said, alarmed.

Miss Vicious rushed right by Lucy, out into the night, again readying her gun. Got into a stance, pointed this way and that. But the man who'd been in the restroom (nor any man at all) was not to be seen. Vicious was joined outside by Lucy.

"There was a dude in there," Vicious told Lucy West, her voice calming, but her pistol still affixed to her right palm. "Dude came bustin' into my stall, right as I'm doin' my thing, you know? I think he was in there trying to... I don't know." She holstered her gun, disappointed. "Damn. I coulda taken care of him too. If only."

"Hey, well, I didn't see anybody, honestly." Lucy grabbed Vicious's wrist. "I heard you screaming in there though, and ... you know how it is. Things are not easy here in Megaton either, as you just witnessed firsthand in Moriarty's."

Vicious said nothing. Looked to the scrap-metal planking below her feet. Damn.

"Hey, don't be sad!" said Lucy. "Come with me. Come on. We'll have another drink, okay? It'll be on me. And then you can come to my place. Nobody will come crashing into my pad without dealing with my Little Prince, right?" she said, patting the piece at her side.

"Well..." A free beer, and then a free, safe place to stay? Why argue with fortune? "Well, okay. I guess. If you sure about it."

"I am. We need to stick together, out here. You can crash on my couch, it'd be lovely, in fact, if you did. My brother Ian has been away for awhile, and I think .... well... why don't you just follow me?"

Miss Delicious did so. Whoever's voice she had heard in the restroom was not to be heard again that night.

"Shoulda busted a cap right into dude," Vicious muttered, while the two ladies returned to Moriarty's.

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

Gob the Bartender

"You want me to do WHAT?"

"I'm getting out of here!"

The bat comes out...First base...

Second base... Go Ichiro!

Mister Burke has been pwned.

Just another day in the Capitol Wasteland

Cool little story!

A couple beers, free exciting entertainment, a creepy proposition from that dude in the restroom and what seems like a nice place to spend the night courtesy of Lucy.

I loved your description of Gob's voice.

Hammer on mutfruit... Ewwww! There goes Mr. Burke.

Just another day in the Wasteland.

Home run for Ichiro!

Same here!

This story is the best in MVD's saga so far. Not just because it features both Cho & Linda, but because it's at first calm, then follows an every-day action, nothing unusual for the wastes, and ends up with a creepy stalking scene.

Good job, nice pics too!

Hmmm I wonder what that guy really wanted? Why not just tell Simms who she is? We’ll definitely be hearing more about this!

Rush.. rush... Rush... rush. Everyone's gonna start thinking I've listened to too much Geddy Lee. Alex Lifeson, and Neil Peart.

Hey, that’s living in the limelight for ya!