justn-lee-blog

[justn-lee-blog]

Evolution of a wastelander

They say war never changes, but those who survive it do.

Several of us left the vault a little wet behind the ears, but our hearts have been dried by the taste of betrayal and grief.

Once being a man who saw the best in people, now I first assume the worst.

“No one trades in this world anymore, Justin.” Those are the words that I’ve begun to live by whenever I encounter someone who’s not one of us.

What once brought me fear for my life, has now brought me joy in killing boredom.

We lived a life waiting for a day to reclaim America.  Now we just hope the wasteland doesn’t claim us first.

The wasteland will change us.  It’s not about who we were then.  It’s about who we are now.

[justn-lee-blog]

Being bros in the wasteland...

No vows were taken, but I guess I’m surviving the wasteland with someone.  It’s kind of serious, I suppose.  Not marriage, definitely not a marriage.  That word scares me, but oftentimes I feel I need my space.

That space ended up being a bender with guy friend (a guy who’s a friend to be even more clear).  Not too long ago, I had my first experience with Nukashine.  I swore I’d never drink again.  But there’s this thing guys do called “challenges”.  The challenge was to drink 10 bottles of nukashine in a day. I needed the diversion, plus it’s made with Nuka Quantum.  How could I say no?

Had had a few jugs ready to go from weeks of fermenting, and we started about 5 in the afternoon.  Two minutes later, we’re out cold waking up near Spruce Knob at a high wire.  Naturally, we had to cross it.  That was another challenge.  For some reason, he was dressed like a girl though.  No judgments, but he’s just a guy friend, okay?

I’m still recovering, but for the last 3 days I’ve not eaten anything.  That’s by choice, not consequence.  Worth it.  When the cat’s away...

[justn-lee-blog]

Loneliness is a bitch.  And that’s just a mean name for what some describe as solitude.  Loneliness drags you face down across the ground.  Solitude gives you a back rub while it drags you through the wasteland.

Thinking about all I’ve had to do to survive is like a having the claws of a deathclaw slowly scratched against my heart.  It hurts.

There are brighter days though.  I stumbled upon a nearby brewing station with a short supply of Nukashine to last me through the next brew.  Nukashine is also a bitch, but she’s mighty kind to me sometimes.  You could say she takes me places, places I never wanted to go or that I never knew existed.

Which brings me to my point.  After a walk with good ole Nukashine to find myself God knows where next to some people who died probably a decade before, I wished I was one of them.

It took a couple of days to find my way back to C.A.M.P. (mostly because I got distracted looking for supplies) but she was there, setting up a tent just a few hundred meters away.  

She found me when I didn’t want to be found, but why?

[justn-lee-blog]

Going it alone...

The first time I killed one of those annoying bat-like scorchbeasts, I almost died. Both of my legs had been broken from the constant onslaught of those mean scorched bastards as I fought off the monster they worship.

It felt like my dying breath was breathed as I shot the bullet that took down the beast.  With the miraculous healing power of the Super Stimpak, I was able to get away.

Since then, I’ve taken down many, and always with a group. Never alone.  There’s definitely strength in numbers.  I wouldn’t be alive right now if it weren’t for our little group of vault dwellers. Ex-vault dwellers? Survivors? Do we even have a name anymore?

Thing is: I know that I need to stay with this group, but everything inside me is telling me to leave. We’re a group of three, sometimes a group of nearly ten, but the loneliness is screaming at me amongst the numbers.

The attacks from the other ex-vault dwellers who are taking advantage of unsuspecting travelers through the wasteland have led me to believe that I need to get away from it all.  At least for now.  

I destroyed my C.A.M.P and moved north in the far reaches of the mountains north of Grafton.  The walk to resources is further, but it brings my minds a measure of peace.  The hum of the wind through the leaves calms my soul.

Surviving in the wasteland has been a chore, I wish we had stayed in the vault. Life was more simple, calmer.  We had a routine.  There’s something wonderfully reassuring about a routine.

So here I am, going it alone, knowing I may die.  That’s the price I pay for a measure of peace.

[justn-lee-blog]

Old habits die hard.  I’ve heard it all my life & it really is the truest thing I’ve ever learned.

I’d give anything to have a Super Duper Mart, at least a functioning one and be able to go get the things I need in peace, drive home in a Corvega and let my Mr. Handy unload the car as I prop my feet up on the coffee table to listen to the latest episode of the Unstoppables.  That’s not my reality.

I can’t carry an unlimited amount of items, nor can I keep as much as I want inside my C.A.M.P.  This is the new reality.  You’d think I’d have learned that this is survival, not luxury.  You’d be wrong.  

I continually grab anything & everything that I see or pull off a dead ghoul.  Sometimes it's useful, sometimes it’s shiny.  There’s something about having wads of cash on me that remind me of the life I’ve always dreamed of.  Except that money (pre-war) is useless except for patching up clothing.

In this journey through the wasteland, I’ve tried to remind myself to only take what is necessary for the project at hand.  But how can you not take every last Jangles doll you can find, or the countless Mr. Fuzzy toys.  I’ve decorated my C.A.M.P with all the Nuka-Cola & Red Rocket toys that I can scrounge up.  Nuka was my thing.  Red Rocket was my dad’s.  

Having said all that, it never hurts to make sure you have toilet paper.  What else are you going to use? Nuked flora?

Never say no to toilet paper.

[justn-lee-blog]

Trust & assumptions

I’m a light sleeper.

Maybe I’m jumping too far ahead.  Rewind.

Let’s get real for a moment.

There’s absolutely no one in this world you can trust beyond yourself.  People are bound to betray you, turn their back on you, or do something in their best interests against you.  It’s life.

How do you build trust in the wasteland?

Simply put, you cannot.  

I’ve been in the most hazardous of conditions with teams, only to find myself alone in the moment of facing a Mirelurk Queen.  With my body torn to shreds, and having gone through every bullet and broken gun that I’ve been able to carry, I’ve managed to escape with my life.  Alone.  No help from others.

How can I trust someone to have my back after having almost died on countless occasions?

I don’t like dying or being betrayed.  Case in point.  Minerva.  For the last several weeks, she wakes up well before me and disappears for hours or days at a time.

At least she thinks she’s getting up well before me.  I’m a light sleeper.

So I decided to follow one day.

So, there’s a reason I’m a light sleeper.

The single greatest mystery about her is this.  I’ve followed her & even I’m at a loss for what she’s doing.  She just goes places, and watches them.  Is she scouting? Is she meeting up with other raiders? I think she spotted me, so the mystery continues...

[justn-lee-blog]

A survivor’s guide to eating in the wasteland...

A man’s gotta eat. Right?

I mean, that’s what we say.  There are so many things I never would have imagined that I’d eat just to stay alive.  Things I thought were stomach-churning.  Dog food, spoiled meat & vegetables, dirty water, just to name a few.

Sure, I’d love to have a Deathclaw Wellington right about now.  I’ve trecked the wasteland looking for those ingredients & nearly died doing so.  When I had collected enough deathclaw meat, it had spoiled by the time I found a deathclaw egg.  With a growling stomach and barely able to move far without taking a breather, the thought popped into my head, “A man’s gotta eat.”

...

Growing up, we ate a lot of repetitive foods.  There was only so much available in the Vault.  I remember complaining about not wanting yet another cramburger, or any more Blamco.  Dad would always say, “A man’s gotta eat...”

We ate so much Mama Dolce’s Beef Stew that you’d think that Vault-Tec had a partnership with them before the war.  

Getting the Mama Dolce’s plant back up & running is a constant chore.  I’m not sure why we keep doing it.  I think it must be sentimental for Minerva.  I’ve never asked, but my imagination wanders.  Sure, we get some food out of keeping it going as much as we can, but there aren’t that many people to feed with it.  Everyone from the Vault has seemed to go their separate ways or they're dead.

...

I went through a brief phase where I would eat the recently killed corpses of the creatures I’d kill.  Super mutants were, by far, the tastiest.  This leads me to wonder, if Minerva died...would I?

...

A man’s gotta eat, right?

[justn-lee-blog]

Up & Down through Appalachia

The day I walked out the Vault, I felt something that I’m not quite sure how to describe.  I felt the culmination of hope that had been building since I was a small child inside Vault 76.  The Overseer always emphasized how great that day would be, the day we reclaimed America.  Reclamation Day, we called it.  

That day has come and gone.  Reclaiming America seems to be a lost cause.  Now all I want is to survive.  Some days, that is easier than others.  It’s wilder than a roller coaster at Nuka World. One day you think you’re going to be alone, then you find a group, but then the next day you’re alone again.  People & groups come and go in our lives in this wasteland.  The only one I can really trust is myself.

I run with others from time to time. I put up a facade of trust and deep friendship, but deep down I know that anyone can turn against me at any point.  

Minerva, or so she calls herself, is an enigma.  I don’t remember her from the Vault.  There is compassion & rage in her eyes at the same time.  She was a mother...so I think I get it.  She carries weapons that allow her to “get up close & personal” with the scorched. Her words not mine. She says, “You’re not really living until you can see the fear in their eyes.”  But the good news is that she’s on my team for the time being.

[justn-lee-blog]

the hunt for Nuka Quantum...

You have no idea how much I love Nuka Quantum.  As a kid before the Vault, as a kid in the Vault, Nuka Quantum was probably the greatest soda a pre-war kid could have.  Seriously, that sugar high with all the caffeine and God knows what else...man, you’d be lit for days!  

I remember my best friend’s birthday party.  No cake, just Nuka.  His mom even hired a Nuka Girl impersonator to come handout that sugary goodness.  I must have had about 16 Nuka Quantums because I don’t remember much.  The next few hours was just a jittery mess of jumbled up memories.  I think I remember at one point, we were actually running around in Unstoppables costumes trying to fly.  Or at least I was, Manta Man was my favorite!  I had collected all of the Unstoppables comics, but his were my most cherished issues...

But back to the Nuka...I’m so amazed by how well preserved these are and they still taste great!  Amazing actually!  I may be addicted.  I’ve found myself running across the radiated lakes of Grafton while being chased by deathclaws just to get one.  Many a night, I lie wide awake with cold sweats when I’ve gone a day without one.  

[justn-lee-blog]

Ad Victoriam

My days have been filled with helping a fellow vault dweller to rebuild the Brotherhood of Steel which had previously occupied these parts.  With the scorchbeast queen defeated, we can finally rebuild this world.  I think the Brotherhood is the best chance to do that, right now.

I’ve even moved my camp so my travel to and from the compound is easier and faster.  There’s never not a need for us to fight off ghouls, scorched or super mutants.  Our numbers are growing.  There is definitely a sense of security in numbers, and purpose.  I enjoy the purpose. Gives me a reason to wake up every day in this new world.

It turns out that several of us in this little group of Brotherhood members grew up as huge fans of the Unstoppables.  We thought it would be fun to cosplay and go out on our supply runs as the Unstoppables.  It was serious and dangerous, but yet so frigging fun.  The amount of Nuka Cola, Sugar Bombs & Fancy Snack Cakes that I’ve picked up and eaten for the sugar rush alone is just insane.  

We also met a friendly super mutant, which sounds like an oxymoron.  This one calls himself/itself (?) Grahm.  He’s always carrying some pretty awesome equipment and supplies.  The small talk isn’t much, but it’s nice to see some friendly life form that didn’t originate inside the Vault.  It’s also been great to hang out with this brotherhood, after having spent so many months alone out there.  I can envision a thriving community...that’s the dream anyway.

[justn-lee-blog]

Honing my skills...

The events of the last few months have made one thing, above all, perfectly clear.  To survive this wasteland, I’ve got to keep honing my skills.  After having just barely survived many a mutated creature, I’ve got to keep growing and getting stronger, get smarter and moving faster.  

I’ve committed myself to learning how to modify my weapons in new ways to make it easier for me to survive.  There are some out there who’ve helped me to do so.  I keep an open mind.

While it seems that I can trust these people, & I truly want to, I keep myself at a distance.  Others try to lure you in with a sense of security only to take all that you have.  

This comes to mind because of a recent encounter I had with raiders dressing up as members of law enforcement.  I was in a small group of scavengers looking for supplies for our C.A.M.Ps and had somehow got separated.  These two individuals appeared out of nowhere.  Now, as a kid during the pre-war era, my instinct was to trust them.  However, their enthusiasm in inviting me to their nearby camp was suspicious.  My friends returned at the right time and we avoided being ambushed by a 3rd raider who carried a gatling laser.

This just goes to show, you can’t trust anyone but yourself in this new world.  

But something interesting has been happening. I think it’s the radiation, but my body has been changing.  Not like puberty change, well..maybe it is like puberty.  I’ve begun jumping higher and running faster than I’ve ever been able to before.  It comes & goes, but just yesterday I jumped clear on top of an abandoned house.  Is this even healthy? Who knows, but right now I’m loving it!

[justn-lee-blog]

A little bit of reminiscence...

It’s still a very surreal feeling as I come to grips with the world around us.  It’s the feeling of not recognizing the place that you’ve known all your life.  The Uncanny Caverns my parents took me to as a kid is a distant memory as it’s now a place overrun with ungodly creatures that I can barely even name or look at without being reminded of the horrors that we’ve faced.  

Now that things have settled down, I’ve begun building a home for myself just northwest of Grafton.  I always wanted to live in the country side.  Mom worked in the capital building, so we lived in Charleston.  I always longed to be closer to nature, to breathe in the clean country air.  Now, I carry a gas mask or my might be breathing in radiation.  I’ve even gotten pretty good at hand-to-hand combat and long-range sniping.  

I’ve snagged a few decorative items from restaurants & stores to remind me of my childhood.  I’m one of those Nuka Cola nut jobs who has to collect every piece of memorabilia you can find, except this time I kind of feel like I’m stealing, but who does it really belong to anyway.  I mean, how can anyone own it if they just abandoned it.

So the question arises in my head:  Where do I go from here?  It’s a brand new world &the overseer inspired us to rebuild America.  With so many people going their own separate ways, it’s kind of hard to know if that dream is real anymore.  I’ve run into this group called the Brotherhood of Steel.  Now that’s a group I should write more on, the Brotherhood, but I’ll save that for a later journal entry.

For now, I just push forward.  Building my own homestead, and seeing where this so-called brotherhood takes me.

[justn-lee-blog]

Two months in...

Two months ago, I emerged from our vault.  It feels like I’ve been going 90 to nothin’ for the last few months that I’ve hardly had the time to sit back and work through my thoughts and experiences.  The friends I’d made from 20 years in that vault all seemed to disappear.  We left hopeful, but we all began to see we were very different people. 

What once was a hopeful time has turned into a brutal reality.  Rebuilding America, the dream that was, has proven to be a nightmare.  

At first, it was the strange mutated beasts whose pre-war versions were a distant memory.  Peaceful creatures have turned into vicious monsters.

People who lived outside the vault have disappeared. Even our own overseer has long since vanished into the wasteland. I’d like to know if she’s still alive.

But now, after having walked, crawled and fought to survive as I’ve tried to settle into this wasteland, the real enemy is the other vault dwellers.  They’ve shown what they really are when outside the confines of law, rules and lifestyle. 

I’ve found the only way to survive this wasteland is to be willing and able to be as ruthless as they’ve shown themselves to be.  Maybe that’s why some turned to the raider groups: survival.  

The very devastation of nuclear war that pushed us into the vault, has been the playground of other vault dwellers.  Every few days someone launches a nuke somewhere in the region and we have to take shelter and fight off the constant mutated monstrosities that come from it.

Even I, out of survival or vengeance, have descended the depths of a silo and have faced the depravity of my own humanity.  

...

Now I’ve rescinded myself to the northern mountains of West Virginia for some solitude.  And only God knows what my next step will be...