riotdragonx

[riotdragonx]

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[riotdragonx]

Wasteland Waltz

OoO( 3 )OoO

Once off the mountain, traveling had become considerably easier. There was still the odd pothole and the occasional jagged rock, but the typically flat ground on the way to the city was much preferable, especially given all the new weight he had strapped to him. With the coolness that night brought, he made good time as he trekked across the sand and dust towards the dark walls of the supposed city in the wasteland. After about two hours of walking under the weight of all the weapons and equipment he had taken, he approached the front of the giant, walled city itself.

As he arrived, he noticed a campfire not far outside the entrance to the city. From where he was standing, he could easily see the silhouettes of several people sitting around the roaring flame. With Poison's words echoing in his head, he pulled one of the long-barreled, more accurate hunting rifles off his back and approached the minuscule camp with his head low.

As he ducked behind a jutting stone, he immediately sighted a large animal, made him go wide-eyed with awe. It had to have been somehow related to the pre-war cows. It was massive, even compared to its ancestors, and instead of one head, it had two that were split into a V shape coming off the neck. The other noticeable change to the creature was its blood red skin. No longer did it have the protective fur, but now just a thick, bare, red, withered hide.

Though curious about the creature, he refocused his attention and spied the three humans sitting by the fire. One was a rugged man, seemingly worn down by the wasteland with a machine gun across his back, armor covering him from head to toe, and a freshly shorn grey crew cut on his head. At the moment, he was focused on cooking whatever kind of meat he had speared on a skewer over the fire between them.

The second man was seemingly of a higher stature though. He was more finely dressed, had rounded bifocals on the bridge of his nose, a cleanly shaven head, and though his skin was slightly wrinkled, it was much less rugged and dirty. He seemed to be enjoying a loud, one sided conversation with the man who was cooking about a glorious new drug he had in stock. If John didn't know any better, he'd have thought the man was trying to sell said drug to the third man without asking directly.

The third of the trio was a more simple man. He sat in front of the fire, leaning back into a chair that was made of metal, but the configuration made it look like it was meant to fold and move easily. He however, was rigid in the chair, trying to become comfortable, and failing miserably. He had about the most normal clothing that he had seen on anyone yet, with a pair of trousers that had two pockets on the hips. He wore a dark colored t-shirt, with a sleeveless vest on top. And on his head, he wore a grey bandanna that ended on his forehead, just above the eye patch covering his right eye.

To John, it didn't look like they were grilling human. And aside from the armored one, it didn't look like any of them were even armed. Not to mention they didn't exactly hold the same air about them as the raiders from earlier. After listening to the conversation switch from this miracle drug, to the price of a new brahmin, then back to said drug, he finally resolved to approach them. Sliding the gun over his shoulder again, he still held the assault rifle in his hand, with one finger on the side of the trigger.

At a young age, when his father had repaired a mysterious BB gun for him, he had taught him the basic fundamentals of owning a firearm. Both the best, four step method of firing, and the safety precautions that must be exercised in both handling, and keeping the weapon. One of those precautions was to never have your finger wrapped around the trigger unless you were aiming to fire, lest the trigger misfire. According to his father and the history holotapes from school, one of the most bloody wars in American history had started with a weapon misfiring, leading a nation into war against thirteen small colonies that lasted eight years. The young man was careful with his weapons, and didn't intend to start any wars today.

Holding one hand up with his palm flat in a sign of greeting, with his assault weapon aimed at the ground, he slowly approached. Surprisingly, the man with the eye patch was the first to notice him approaching. "Looks like we got a visitor." said the man as he sat up straight. Then the one eye widened as he saw the jumpsuit that he wore. "A vault dweller? Well, that's a bit unexpected." he said curiously.

John looked at him oddly for the remark, but the young man immediately snapped out of it as the armored figure stood and reached to draw his weapon. The vault escapee immediately raised the gun before the other figure could pull his off his back. "Uh uh, don't touch it." he said, his voice lacking any indication that he was joking. "I've killed more people today than I care to remember, I don't want to start again." he snapped, already feeling his heart begin to pound again as it had before.

The armored man let go of the weapon, but glared at the boy. The pristine man stared at them both, and the eye-patched man leaned forward onto his knees, watching curiously. "Look kid, I've been marching this wasteland for forty years now. I'm not going to be intimidated by some snobby vault dweller with a silver spoon in his ass." said the man as he sneered. John just sighed in annoyance, then fired into the ground at the man's feet. The armored figure fell backwards at the sudden burst of rounds, landing firmly on his rear end.

"That's twice I've had to do that today..." he said as he walked over and stood over the man. "Four raiders are now dead because they tried taking me prisoner. Are you a raider? Because if you are, tell me now and I'll make this conversation a lot shorter." he commanded, raising the weapon to the armored figure's face.

"Now now, I don't think that will be necessary." said the eye-patched man as he walked up next to John with his arms raised. "He's no raider, he's just the guard for Doc Hoff here's caravan. And he doesn't like surprises. Don't worry, he won't do anything hasty." he said, turning his head and staring at the man on the ground. "Right?"

The man said nothing, but nodded. John lowered the gun to the ground again, allowing the strap around his shoulder to take the weight as he turned to the man next to him. "And you are?"

"My name is Billy, Billy Creel. That over there is Doc Hoff..." he said, nodding towards the well kept man. "This is George. Guard for hire, protects caravans and whatnot. Don't let his attitude get to you. He treats everyone who doesn't pay him like that." he said. "And you are?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow curiously at the vault dweller.

"John Ronas, I just left the vault earlier today and was attacked in my sleep by raiders in the small town over there." he said, thumbing towards Springvale. He looked over at George and nodded his head in apology. "Sorry for my itchy trigger finger. I've had no less than ten people try and kill me today, so I'm a bit on edge." he said in a friendly tone.

George regarded him for a moment, then stood again and dusted himself off. "After fighting raiders, I'd be pretty ornery too. No harm no foul." he said, returning to cooking meat by the fire.

"And thank you, it's good to finally meet someone out here with a friendly face." he said to Billy, the relief in his voice very noticeable.

Billy looked at him curiously as he shook the young man's hand. "You said you took out a group of raiders in Springvale?" his voice a mix of disbelief and

John nodded as he took a seat next to Billy's chair. "Yeah, I was asleep in one of the houses. I already had an ordeal getting out of the vault, and didn't know what was what up here, so I thought I'd sleep out the night. But, while I was napping, they swooped in and took me hostage. I killed all but one of them, and sent the last one running off into the night." he said as he dug through the survival pack he had taken from one of the raiders. Inside, he had stashed his important stuff, the lunchbox, the waters he had taken from the vault, rations left behind by Poison, and anything else he deemed important.

"That's a pretty big accomplishment for someone fresh in the wasteland." said Billy as he eyed the water. He was stunned at how clean it looked. "Is that purified water?" John nodded, offering the bottle to the man. Billy reeled for a second, then reached forward and took the thick plastic bottle. "You sure about this?"

John looked at him oddly. "You act like I just handed you a wad of money."

"I mean, you kinda did. To get water like this out here, you've gotta shell out some serious caps." said Billy as he continued holding the bottle out, as if giving the young man a chance to take it back.

But the young gunman just stared at Billy blankly. Doc Hoff spoke up for the man instead. "Caps, you know...money? Currency? Quid?" he asked, slightly surprised at the blank expression.

"He just got out of the vault Doc, he probably doesn't even know what we're talking about." said Billy, before he turned back to the vault dweller. "Since the bombs fell, bottle caps have become the wasteland currency. Don't ask how or why, but that's how it is. So if someone asks you for caps, they're essentially asking you for money." he explained, pleased with himself when John's face lit up like a bulb.

A look of enlightenment dawned on John's face, then he pulled out the lunchbox and opened it in front of them. "Like these?" he asked, showing the mass of bottle caps. Billy's one eye widened as he saw the sheer amount that the new wastelander held.

"Holy shit kid...that's gotta be at least a thousand caps you got." He reached up and pulled the bandanna off his head, using it to wipe away a small amount of sweat that had dotted his brow. "If you've been in the vault your whole life, how'd you manage to collect those?"

The young man sighed and shrugged. "My father left them for a friend, who was killed before I left. I don't think he intended for me to follow him out, but shit happens." he said, taking a swig of the lukewarm, but radiation free water. "In any case, is there a place in the city I can stay for a while? I'm looking for my father and intend to be here until I find out where he went off to."

Billy nodded. "There are a few options actually. There's the common house, which is a large building on top of the hill that houses most of the wastelanders who just wander into town. If you wanna keep your stuff safe in there though, you'll have to take it with you. Then there's Moriarty's Saloon. He's gonna cost a few caps, but he has rooms, food, and privacy. And last, if you track down Lucas, the sheriff, he's got a property that's for sale. But I don't know if you've got enough for that." he picked the gifted water bottle up and slid it into his pocket. "I can give you a tour if you like."

"That, would be amazingly helpful." said John as he stood again, collected all of his gear, then followed the eye-patched man through the grating gates of the city. His eyes locked onto the robot outside.

"Howdy…pardner! Welcome...to...Megaton!" said the RobCo Protectron model as he and Billy approached the inner doors. John grinned widely at the automaton, with its cowboy hat and cheery greeting.

"I'll have to check that out later." he said to himself, his excitement already mounting. He remembered back to when he was younger, how he'd hunt Andy down through the vault and deactivate him, only to take him apart and put him back together. He'd had an interest in robots and artificial intelligence for a long time, but only had one specimen that he could actually take apart. Nobody really questioned why in ten years, Andy had never needed any repairs.

And any time they had discussions about robotics in class, there had never been anyone remotely as attentive as him. It was really the only time in class that his hand was up constantly, both for asking questions and answering them. The protectron model at the door was now a new specimen, something he strove to understand. But that was for another time. Right now, his eyes were scanning the city around him as he finally entered the giant doors.

The entire city was surrounded by walls and more walls of metal that rose up high above the center of the city, making it look like they were inside a metallic volcano. The shops and houses, unlike the vault, were all mostly rickety buildings with walls made of sheet metal, or some other flimsy material that was just as readily available. They were all built into the hill that sloped up towards the giant metal walls, leaving a slight stair pattern to the buildings that were stacked on top of each other. And nearly everything inside the city was connected by a string of walkways that criss-crossed around the large crater.

John was awed at the sight of the structures built into the side of the large crater that the city was built inside. He was amazed that anything within the walls of the large crater was standing with how rickety things looked. But you really couldn't judge a book by its cover. On top of that, he had come from a vault, where everything built was done so to last potentially millennia. So he knew that he wasn't any expert on architecture.

He scanned around the city a bit more before his gaze locked onto the large bomb planted directly in the center of the crater itself. His eyes widened as he realized what it was, two words echoing in his head. Fat Man. He stopped dead in his tracks, a look of disbelief on his face as he saw the undetonated ordnance sitting in a pond as if it were some kind of massive bird, taking a bath.

Billy stopped, then turned to look at him. "You like our centerpiece?" he asked with a chuckle. "No need to worry friend, that things been there for years. It's not going off any time soon. Now let me show you the Brass Lantern." he said and pulled John with him by the elbow.

OoOoO

It had taken a couple of hours to introduce John to every long term citizen of Megaton. He liked the grand majority of them, aside from Jericho who introduced himself by saying that a kid that'll be dead in less than a week wasn't worth getting to know. Bookmarking that statement in his mind, he just grinned and moved on. Then there was Nathan…

Nathan Vargas was a patriot, to say the least. They had run into him on one of the catwalks as he was heading home from the saloon, when the older man spotted the round orb-like machine hanging from John's ruck. Before Billy could even introduce the pair, he went off on a tirade. "Dadgummit! Another scrapper stealing precious materials from the United States government! It's treason I say! You should be ashamed of yourself!" snapped the angry elder.

John just stared at him dumbly, not saying a word as Billy stepped up for him. "I think what Mister Vargas here is trying to say, is that your droid down their belonged to the Enclave. What he forgets to mention however, is that the Enclave hasn't been seen for decades." said Billy as he eyed Nathan sternly.

Nathan looked like he was about to retort when John spoke up for himself. "Look, if it makes you feel any better, I didn't do anything to it. I was attacked by raiders in the town to the west when this thing flew by and spooked them. I'm actually planning on repairing it for helping save me." said John as he held up the bot so that both of the men could see the gaping hole where the speaker used to be.

"Oh!" said Nathan in surprise as he grinned. "You, young man, are a true American! You know, back when I was your age…" started the elder again, this time in a much kinder tone. But Billy cut him off, giving the man a pat on the back as well as he pushed him along the walkway.

"That's nice Mister Vargas. Tell Manya I said hello." said Billy as he waved at the old man.

Nathan glared at Billy before walking off. "Kids these days! No patience!" he snapped before finally leaving the pair to themselves. Billy just turned to John and shook his head, and amused grin plastered on his face.

"Shall we continue?" he asked as he turned towards the path down to the center of the city when a man in a long duster and a cowboy hat himself turned and headed up towards them. Billy immediately raised an arm in greeting. "Sheriff Simms! We were just coming to have a chat with you!" said the eye-patched man as John watched the man approach. He had dark skin, much darker than he'd seen in the vault, and a short beard to fit the cowboy visage he had going.

"And who might this be?" asked the man as he eyed Billy. "Another wastelander?" But he halted the question when he recognized the blue jumpsuit he was wearing, and also noticed that it was stained with crimson.

"A new friend from Vault 101 actually. Turns out this young man came out of the vault and immediately wiped out one of the gangs rummaging through Springvale." said Billy as he leaned against the wall of the now closed restaurant Billy had called the Brass Lantern. "By the way Lucas, this is John. John, this is Sheriff Lucas Simms."

"Good to meet you Sheriff." greeted John as he held out his hand.

Simms looked at his hand, then back up at the young man's face, as if trying to read him. Finally, he took his hand and shook it. "Good to meet you too John." he said, locking his eyes onto the vault dweller's own. "He said you took a gang out over in Springvale, is that true?" John nodded. "Glad to hear it. Our eagle-eye has had to send them packing a few times. But that leaves us at an impasse."

"How do you figure?" asked John, who was currently not a fan of the sheriff's tone.

"Because, that either makes you a friend, or an enemy. And I'd like to get those details out of the way right now." he said. His voice was not hostile by any means, but also was he not friendly. More of a cold observer than anything else.

"And how does killing raiders make me your enemy?" he asked, his arms crossed and an annoyed look on his face. Not even a single night in the town and he had already been interrogated twice.

Lucas smiled grimly. "Because, raiders kill other raiders too. That doesn't make them my friends." responded the Sheriff as he crossed his arms in response. "And if you took out their whole group, it means that you know how to kill pretty damn good. So, given that I have a lot of innocent people here to protect, I need to know now what kind of person you are."

Never losing his annoyed look, John retorted, "I'm not the kind to start randomly firing at strangers if that's what you're implying. Everything I have I either took from those raiders or brought with me."

Lucas stared at John for a long moment before Billy spoke up. "I'm gonna have to vouch for him myself. When he walked up to us outside, he had his weapon ready. If he was going to kill us and steal our stuff, he had plenty of opportunity."

The sheriff smiled as he turned to John again. "Well then, it's good to have you here. Keep doing work like you're doing, and we'll be friends in no time." he said as tipped his cowboy style hat in a small gesture of thanks. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have other matters to attend to."

"Sheriff..." said the vault dweller nervously. Lucas turned to him, an eyebrow raised in curiosity. "I was wondering, early this morning, my father left the vault as well. I don't know if he came this way, but I was wondering if you had seen another wearing one of these pass through here." he inquired as he tapped the breast of his jumpsuit.

"I'm afraid not son. A lot of people come through here on a daily basis. Some stay, some go. But not all of them I get to meet. However, if you're going to ask around, I can save you some time by telling you to head to Moriarty's Saloon up on the upper levels. If your dad needed any information, he'd have stopped by there." he said. Then he patted the vault dweller on the shoulder and walked off into the darkness.

"He's right. If your dad came by looking for information, then he'd be directed there. And if I were stuffed in a vault for as long as him, that's the first thing I'd be looking for out here." said Billy as he patted John on the back. "Thanks again for the water. Hope you find what you're looking for."

John nodded with a smile, running his hand through his brown hair that tended to naturally spike backwards. "No problem. You'll have to introduce me to Maggie one day. It's a shame she was already asleep" he said. Billy nodded, then the two went their separate ways. John climbed the walkways once more until he reached the familiar saloon, then opened the door and went inside.

"Hello again sugar." greeted the female who sat beside the bar. He looked at her and smiled, not used to being stared at by women the way she was. Amata had always looked at him with tender caringness. Nova, however, smiled back with a very vixen like grin, one he wasn't too familiar with the meaning of.

The man behind the bar, if he could be called that, was named Gob. He stood taller than John by almost half a foot, but was shorter on account of his massive slouch. His skin was...gone. Or, mostly gone. Some places showed nothing but the facial muscles underneath, while other spots had patches of skin that looked as if they were slowly peeling off. The only sign of hair he had was a small tuft that grew from an even smaller patch of skin left on his ravaged scalp.

Despite his grisly appearance, his eyes told a story of friendliness, of sorrow, and of someone who didn't deserve his situation. "What'll it be?" asked Gob in a friendly enough tone. Before being introduced to him, Billy had warned John ahead of time about ghouls. The young man had to say he was thankful, as without warning, he would have likely run terrified out of the saloon.

"Is Moriarty available? I have some questions for him." he asked, drumming his fingers on the counter. He didn't realize how nervous he was that his father might not have come to this saloon, or town at all.

"Sorry hun, but he's out like a light for tonight. If you'd like, you can get a room and talk to him in the morning." said the red-headed woman, her voice rather suggestive as a coy smile played across her face.

He sighed heavily, the knot in his stomach clenching unbearably. "Alright...if that's all I can do. How much is it for a room?" he asked, pulling his ruck up onto one of the stools. Immediately, he noticed that nearly every eye in the room, aside from Gob's, who were on him, and Nova's, whose were "on him" were aimed at the stuffed pack.

Gob, who was in the middle of recapping a beer bottle, looked up at the young man. "It's usually 120 caps per night. But I'll tell you what. You seem like a nice kid, and you didn't gasp in horror the first time you saw me, I'll give you a discount. Just don't go telling Moriarty about it." he said quietly to John in his gravelly voice.

John smiled slightly, nervously aware of the people staring at his supplies. "That'd be great. Thanks." he whispered to Gob. Rummaging through his bag, he cracked the lunchbox and pulled out their agreed upon price, keeping the box inside to make sure that nobody knew exactly how much money he had. After paying the ghoul across the counter, he shouldered his gear and went to the room which the bartender had pointed out.

After closing the door behind himself, he placed the large pack, along with all the guns he had acquired on the opposite side of the bed from the door. Billy had been very kind to him, but had warned him ahead of time that things outside the vault worked very different. Instead of working together to make a better whole, most of the people in the wasteland found it easier to just steal and kill. So, with a certain paranoia surrounding him, he made sure that all of his firearms were within reach should anyone try to sneak in at night. Laying them all along the wall and within easy grasping distance, he took the drone off his bag and sat heavily on the bed, eyeing the small robot.

He'd never made an alteration to a robot like he was planning for this one. To make it work, he'd have to shift some parts around and redistribute some of the weight so that it didn't fall face first every time it lifted off. On top of that, if he did have to add extra weight to counterbalance the new face, then that would require him to increase the output to the stabilizing jet that allowed it to float. Otherwise, it wouldn't even be able to lift off.

As all the numbers ran through his head, the door behind him creaked open again. Immediately, he grabbed one of the pistols close by and aimed at at the door. But Nova raised her hands defensively, making him lower the weapon. "Easy cowboy." she said with a friendly smile. He set the gun down and and instead continued staring at the robot in his hands.

"Can I help you with something?" Despite trying to focus on the bullet hole, he couldn't help his eyes slipping back towards her. She had an unkempt mop of ginger hair, that despite its mussed appearance, worked well with how she dressed. Her clothes had smacked him in the face as soon as he entered the tavern. Back in the vault, the women never dressed provocatively like she was now. The only thing he had ever seen that could compare was a magazine that Butch had showed off to his buddies.

Her shirt was cut short, leaving her flat stomach exposed to the world. And while she was fully covered, it didn't leave much to the imagination as far as her bust went. The fabric was tight, and low cut enough that anytime she bent forward, the cleavage of her large bosom pressed against the edges and bulged further, giving onlookers a clear shot of her goods. The sleeves of the shirt were the only thing that wasn't tight about it, each one billowed and draping off her arms like she was a smoke dancer. And the only thing that she wore below the belt was a tiny pair of jean shorts that exposed her miles of legs, wide hips, and firm behind. Realizing that he'd been staring longer than he should have, he finally looked back at the robot.

The woman walked forward slowly and sat with him on the bed, eyeing the curious machine with him. "I just wanted to say that I'm very sorry for everything that's happened to you so far. I know that today has been probably the most chaotic day of your life." she said sympathetically. Despite his surprise that anyone out here could give a damn about another person, he kept a straight face.

"That's putting it lightly. Before today, the most exciting thing to ever happen to me was when I got into a fist fight with a group of gangers who wouldn't leave Amata alone." he said, chuckling as he realized how much he longed for another brawl with that idiot Butch.

"And Amata is?" she asked curiously, scooting closer to the young man. At her question, he seemed to sink deep in thought, making him oblivious to her movements.

"The Overseer's daughter. She was my best friend." he said, rubbing his forehead lightly with one hand. Remembering her face, and Butch's stupid grin made him feel an immediate wave of homesickness. Not for the vault per se, but for his friends. Even the leader of the Tunnel Snakes had loosened up as they got older, allowing for a lasting peace between all of them.

"Was she your girlfriend?" Nova asked as she propped herself up behind him and began to rub his bare shoulders, her hands appreciating every inch of his musculature that they could.

"Girlfriend? Like, were we going steady?" he asked for clarification. The woman, hearing the very archaic terminology just laughed and nodded. He stared at the floor silently as he recalled their parting at the gate. "She was..." he said, his face now a grim look of ire. Despite his annoyance, he began groaning in pleasure as she found a sore spot and worked out the tiredness.

Not stopping her gentle application of pressure, she eyed him curiously, the statement giving her the go ahead to reach in front of him and gently begin to unzip the jumpsuit that he wore. "Was?" she asked for clarification, grinning at the fact that he wasn't stopping her.

"We...parted at the door." he said in a tone that suggested he was tired of the subject.

"Shame." was all she said in response as she pulled the top of the jumpsuit off him, then wrapped her arms around his pale torso, her small hands sliding gently up his shirt to feel his bare skin. She then leaned her head against his shoulder, breathing down his neck and sending goosebumps all over his skin. It wasn't long before he was leaning back into her as well, his hands sliding along her bare legs that were on either side of him. "Want me to stay the night with you? Keep your mind off your crazy day?" she asked seductively into his ear.

He opened his eyes, knowing what she was really asking. Despite his urge to suppress the memory, her face popped up in his head again. He stared at Amata in his mind as if she were right in front of him, and she stared at him. This time, he pulled away. "Yeah...I think I'd like that."

[riotdragonx]

Wasteland Waltz

OoO( 2 )OoO

John had stumbled down the hill quite a bit as he made his way towards the small, decrepit town that he could see from the front door of the vault. The going was slow, considering his entire life he'd had nothing to compete with gravity on except the occasional staircase. Mostly, it had just been the long, flat, metal hallways with their artificial lights built into the side, leaving a soft glow to light any of the darkened areas of the underground bunker.

This, this was difficult. There were rocks, dead plants, and worst of all, dust. The mix of dust and sand put his footing in a constant state of peril, leading to shifting rocks and ground. Twice, he had been sent sliding down the hill, face first because of a foothold mysteriously disappearing into the shifting mire, leaving him coughing and irate. Before leaving the cave, he had cleaned and bandaged his arm, and had given himself a small dose of Med-X in order to keep the arm from hurting after his adrenaline from the escape had faded. This left Vault Boy with his usual happy, smiling face, despite the bruising from the tumbles he took down the hill.

Finally, after thirty minutes of falling, sliding, and backtracking for better ground, he made it to the bottom of the small mountain that the vault had been built into. Already in a foul mood because of his father's actions, this had only put him in a more miserable state. He shaded his eyes with his hand again and began heading towards the buildings that were nearby.

They were small, destroyed houses. There was very little sign of life anywhere in the entire puny town. The occasional empty bottle of whiskey here, the crumpled up food wrappers there, all shoved into the corner of one of the houses that was exposed to the elements. He found one such house that at least had a roof over it, so he ducked inside to find a filthy mattress, littered with empty boxes of something called 'Sugar Bombs'. To the right side, there was a sink built into the wall, just below a large hole that let the dusklight flood into the small enclosure. On a nearby bed stand was a television that had seem much better days. The antenna were ripped completely off, and the receiver box that normally would have sat below the screen was cleaned of nearly all of its parts. Somehow, the only thing that was untouched was the screen itself.

He sighed, then moved over and cleared the cereal boxes off the bed, before sitting down on it. He sat for a moment, deciding that this was as good a place as any to camp as the sun sank full behind the horizon. Suddenly, his ears perked up as he heard...music? Looking around, he dug out a small trench next to the bed, threw the lunchbox inside, then covered it again with the dirt and ash that had to have been from the burnt house itself. Once he was satisfied that it was properly hidden, he drew his pistol and moved out into the darkening landscape, looking around for the source of the obnoxiously patriotic music.

It had taken him the better part of a minute to find the origin, but when he finally did, he was a bit in awe. The small orb was floating through the air, using propulsion jets. Special filters that pulled air through one duct on the top, then forced it out through the bottom, creating a stabilizing, floating effect. Andy, back in Vault 101 ran on the same kind of tech, allowing the jovial robot to float around the vault as he pleased.

Unlike Andy however, this wasn't a Mr. Handy model. This was unlike anything he had ever seen before. All it was, was a floating mechanical speaker that hovered around, playing loud, patriotic music. "What...?" was all he could really ask himself as it hovered past him. He stood and watched the spectacle for a bit longer, before feeling the bruises from earlier pulling him towards the house again. He sluggishly laid on the mattress, staring at the ceiling for a few minutes before his mind finally shut down and he drifted off to sleep.

OoOoO

"Well, look what we have here boys!" came a shout that immediately woke the young man up. He sat up, reaching for his pistol, only to find that his gun was missing and there was a heavy boot placed firmly on his chest, pushing him right back down to the mattress.

"Oh look! He's alive!" shouted another voice, this one much more feminine. John looked up into the face of the man now stepping on him. He looked insane, like one of the villains out of his old Grognak the Barbarian comics. His hair was spiked up like one of the old world roosters, and he wore a bandit's mask of paint across his eyes, which were wide as he smiled insanely. His armor, if it could be called that, consisted of numerous bits of rubber and metal chained across his body in an odd assortment. The man looked like he had ripped a car apart and strapped it to himself.

But the most noticeable thing about the man was what was in his hand. John growled to himself as he saw his own 10mm pistol being shoved into his face. "Hey boss, can I go first this time?" asked the same feminine voice from before.

"Sure! Let's get him outside. I want everyone to see this." he said happily, then reached down and grabbed the vault dweller by the hair. "Come with me little vault rat!" he shouted as he pulled the young man out of the small shelter by his hair. When he finally stopped again, the man left John on his knees with the 10mm still pointed directly at him. "Alright boys and girls! We got us a vault rat!" he shouted loudly.

At least five other voices began to shout and holler loudly behind him. John stared at the barrel intensely, realizing that his situation was bad. He had heard from the few GNR broadcasts when he was younger about raiders, that they pretty much killed, and stole what they wanted without regard to others. His hand discretely went down and tapped the shock baton that he had slid into his boot earlier in the day. To his major relief, it was still there.

But it wasn't going to be enough. He was fairly skilled at hand to hand combat, even better with a baton. But five people, armed with firearms was far too much, even if he did manage to get his pistol back from the man in front of him.

Finally, the female who had been talking before approached, with a long blade, probably fashioned from a lawnmower, in her hands. "So, what question should I ask him first boss?" she asked greedily as she eyed the young man.

"The vault! That vault! Tell us how to get into the vault!" shouted the man as he kept his weapon trained on the vault dweller. "Boppo said it couldn't be done, but we got a key to the front door right here!"

The girl, who couldn't have been much older than him, if older at all, eyed him up and down. "You know kid, you're actually kinda cute. Maybe after we're done, I could keep you around as a plaything." she said, tickling his throat with the tip of her blade.

John's eyes rapidly scanned everything in the area, looking for anything to help him get out of this situation. Finally, he spotted the butt of some kind of weapon peeking from over the raiders shoulder. He smiled gently as the group closed in around him. He had the means to defend himself, now he just needed a distraction.

No sooner had the thought crossed his mind, than his ears perked as music began to play again. One of the raiders behind the female shouted, "Boss! It's one of those things!" Immediately, the rooster-man turned with a growl.

"Shoot the damn thing!" shouted the man as he pointed at the mechanical orb.

While the man had his attention elsewhere, John slowly reached down and slid the baton out of his boot, extended it with a button push, then jabbed it into the girl's stomach before she could move. Jamming his finger down on the button built into the handle, waves of electricity flowed through her, stunning her, and eventually knocking her out. Moving quickly, he laid the young woman down, then turned to the head honcho and swung the weapon upwards between the man's legs. The thud that sounded from the attack made even his stomach turn as the organs were crushed in the blow. The man bent forward in stunned pain, unable to scream, unable to shout, unable to do anything but stare silently at the ground as the pain nearly made him black out.

As the man bent forward, John rose to his feet and grabbed the stock of the weapon, which turned out to be an assault rifle of some kind. Dropping the baton, he pulled up the assault rifle and froze for a split second. When he pulled this trigger, people were going to die. Like his father drilled into his head when giving him the BB Gun, he knew that as soon as he put his finger on that trigger, he was going to take more human lives. Back in the Overseer's office, he had put down a man who was torturing Amata. Even after the sting of her not coming with him, he would still kill for her sake. Then his mind quickly flashed back to the question he was asked when he was dragged to his knees, the raiders behind the gasping man finally pulling their firearms off and shooting at the small drone.

They wanted to know how to get into the vault. And if they got in, what would they do to her? As that question entered his mind, a blood red haze filled his vision as he glared in anger. Putting his finger on the trigger, he aimed directly into the back of the man still kneeling in front of him in agony and ended his suffering. Whipping the barrel of the weapon upwards, he aimed at another one, then fired a burst of rounds into the man's back. When their comrade fell, the others immediately turned and raised their own weapons to him. Immediately, he hurled himself back inside the house he had slept in earlier with bullets following him and ripping apart the woodwork.

The young gunman quickly scrambled away from the door and kept his head low as they chipped at the crumbling wall with their automatic fire. He looked around frantically for any escape, and his eyes immediately locked onto a small hole in the wall to his right. But suddenly, the fire stopped.

"Did we get him?" asked one of the rabid females from outside.

"I don't fucking know! You check!" shouted a male. Footsteps could be heard approaching the house, and he knew he had to move quickly. Reaching up, he grabbed the remains of a broom that had been laying across the floor and threw at at the doorway. The sound that resulted was a loud clack! That appeared to have the desired effect when the spooked raiders began unleashing another storm of bullets at the doorway.

Frantically, he scrambled towards the opening in the wall and squeezed himself through, ignoring the pain of a sharp jab that he received from a piece of split concrete. Once out of the hole, he could see the raiders, but they couldn't see him. The shadow of the house cloaked him in the night air, on top of the fact that they were so focused on the splintered remains of the broom that they might not have seen him even if they were in plain daylight.

Knowing he had little time left before they realized his decoy, he lifted the weapon and fired again. This time, he didn't let off the trigger. Round after hellish round punctured their skin, ripping through tissue and organ and silencing the mad men and women of the group forever. The unorganized nature of the raiders was their undoing. The gunfire that they shot at the distraction masked John's own retaliation, making them easy targets.

After the short battle was finished, the vault dweller sat down with a thump, his heart racing and his breathing heavy. Even though he wasn't crying, he could feel tears running down his face as the ringing in his ears died out and the haze lifted itself from his vision. Whatever their reason was, they weren't getting into the vault anymore. They wouldn't be able to get to her.

Suddenly, he was startled by a groan to his left, and was immediately back up again. The female raider that he had stunned with the baton was just waking up after her shock treatment. Moving quickly, he reached her and pulled the firearm off her side, then grabbed the melee weapon again, compacting it and sliding it into his boot before aiming at her with his new assault rifle.

When the young woman finally got her bearings again, she realized that she was now staring down the barrel of a machine gun, and all of her once allies were now on the ground, dead. Her own eyes were wide with horror at the massacre before she saw his tear-stained gaze. Immediately, she glared venom at him from her spot on the ground.

Before, he had never really gotten a look at her. She had dark, tanned skin and dark eyes to match, but her hair was in contrast to both of them. It was light, and dyed an offensive pink color, while being tied up in pigtails on the side of her head. Despite the dirt and grime that covered her, she was somewhat attractive. But all thoughts of that had passed as he noticed her glare.

"What's your name?" he asked, his voice shaking. After a minute of her saying nothing at all, he aimed next to her and fired three rounds into the ground, causing her to jump in fright and scramble backwards.

She had thought from the look on his face that she might get the upper hand due to his obvious inexperience with weapons. But he was beyond the breaking point, and was on a hairs trigger. That thought alone erased defiant look, and one of panic replacing it.

"I asked you a question goddammit." he shouted through clenched teeth.

"Poison!" she shouted, her heart now hammering in her chest.

He wiped the tear tracks from his face, then walked up to her and aimed at her again. "Stand up, Poison." he commanded. She did as he bade, standing to her full height, which was still a head shorter than him. "Here's the plan Poison. I need information, and you're going to give it to me." he said threateningly. "Where is the nearest town from here? And I mean actual town with people. Not some shithole like this!" he snapped, his eyes locked on her every movement.

The wild look in his eyes shook her to her core, and she nodded silently. Looking behind him, she slowly, so that he didn't find the move threatening, pointed to the horizon behind him. "There's a city over there called Megaton." Keeping the weapon trained on her, eyed her threateningly.

"You ever dance Poison?" he asked, the weapon still aimed directly into her chest from far enough away that there was no chance of her getting to it before he pulled the trigger.

She stared, startled and wide-eyed at the question. "The fuck kid? Are you high?"

"You and me, we're going to dance real quick. I'm going to move in a circle, and you're going to move with me. But we're going to do it real slow, understand?" he asked, his tone reeking of anger. She just nodded dumbly, and he began to move. She moved with him, step by step, like two particles in quantum entanglement. He continued to move until he was standing directly where she had been standing before. When he stopped, she took that as her cue to stop as well. "That looks like a junkyard." he said, eyeing her curiously.

Finally, understanding that the dance was so that he could look at the city without having to turn his back on her, she shook her head frantically. "It's a town, I swear! They made it out of some kinda plane that crashed there a long time ago. Our last leader, Boppo died trying to raid the place." she finished, her hands now up, showing she was defenseless. John smiled briefly, then nodded his head in the direction opposite of the town.

"Now, you're going to run. Take whatever supplies that your guys brought with you, but no weapons, and take off in that direction. When I can no longer see you, I'll leave. If you turn or deviate from that path, I'll open fire until you're back on it. Get me?" he snapped threateningly. She nodded, slightly wide-eyed at being let free. "Oh, and if I see you again, chances are I'll kill you. So try not to cross me again. You see what happened to them." he said, nodding his head towards the corpses now littering the street. "Now, get your stuff and go."

She wasted no time in running and grabbing one of the dead raiders' packs and cramming it with as much food and water as she could. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that he was still aiming directly at her with the automatic weapon. Finally, when she could fit no more, she stood in front of him again, her head low and her hands still up. "Please..."

"What is it?" he asked, slightly surprised at the politeness she was expressing.

Looking up at him, her pretty face looked desperate. From the look she was giving with her brown eyes, he'd have thought she was begging for her life. "Please, I need some kind of weapon. Out there, I'll be killed without one." she said, her voice wavering as she pleaded.

"Funny, I was pretty defenseless when you were holding a blade at my throat." he said, glaring darkly as she shriveled at the comment.

"If I go out there like this, I'll be lucky if I'm killed before they can do anything else to me." she commented, practically in tears by this point. "They'd likely take my stuff and…" she begged, but he cut her off.

"Who the hell are 'they?'" he asked, bewildered at the direction of her statement.

"Anyone! Nobody out here gives a fuck about anyone else! Anyone I come across would put a bullet in me as soon as they saw my bag!" she shouted. Despite the raise in the tone of her voice, her hands stayed in the air.

"So, you mean other people like you?" he asked spitefully. Something about the desperation in her voice shook him however. "Is that what it's really like out here?"

With a look of doom on her face, she lowered her head in defeat. "You'll find out soon enough."

He glared at her for a long moment before he finally lowered the barrel of the assault rifle. "Fine. But..." he started, pulling out the pistol he had taken from her. Her head snapped up immediately, her eyes wide at his words. Hitting the button on the side of the weapon, he ejected the cartridge of ammo from it. As it was falling, he kicked it towards her, then threw the gun towards her as well. "Hold them in separate hands, and hold your hands wide so that I can see them separated until you're out of firing range." he said cautiously, the muzzle of his automatic weapon once again aimed at her.

She nodded in shock as she slowly knelt down and grabbed both of the tools he had thrown towards her, then stood back up, holding her arms out with the ammo clip in one hand, and the weapon in the other. Turning away from him, she walked at a fairly quick pace, trying to put as much distance between her and the gun barrel as possible. It was five long minutes of holding the weapon up, his arms shaking from the strain, before she vanished from sight. Finally, he exhaled deeply and sat back against the wall. The events of the last day suddenly just slammed into him as he stared around at the bodies that he helped create. Suddenly, he just leaned his head back, and tears began to flood from his eyes once more.

He just covered his face with his hands and let them flow, no noise coming from him as he sat in the dirt, covered in the blood of the man he executed point blank. After what seemed an eternity, he stood again, his eyes red, his jumpsuit stained, and his weapon now cold. He cleaned the raiders of what weapons they had, and started picking up the food and water that Poison had left behind when he stumbled across the eye bot again. It was laying on the ground with a round piercing the front of the spherical object. It was an odd feeling having sentiment over an object that had done nothing more than play annoyingly patriotic music. But even so, if it wasn't for this drone, he would probably be dead.

Reaching down, he grabbed the robot and curled it under his arm. "Let's see if I can't fix you up when I get to town." he said as he eyed the front speaker. It had been destroyed by the bullet with no chance of repair. Thinking quickly, he wondered if he could find a replacement, when an idea snapped into his head.

It took less than a minute to salvage the inside of the house of his lunchbox and the parts he needed to fix the small bot, then he looked towards the large scrapyard looking town in the distance. Cleaning his face of the accumulated grime and the mess from the tears, he finally took his first step towards his unknown fate in the wasteland.

[riotdragonx]

Wasteland Waltz (Fallout 3)

OoO( Prologue )OoO

Legends. Every culture has them. The Greek had a pantheon of gods who lived on Mount Olympus. The Norse had their own world called Asgard where gods and giants fought one another, with the human world at stake. Even the Asian cultures had dynasty after dynasty of kami and shén bearing tales of romanticism, anger, hatred and tragedy.

Jesus, Muhammad, the Buddha, prophets of legend. Robin Hood, Paul Bunyan, Casey Jones, Hercules, Saint Nicholas, King Arthur, Ishiwaka Goemon, Sun Wukong, heroes of legend. Every culture has them, and they are forever idolized within the people of a culture, told to children to make them behave, or to give them hope. There was even an era where these figures were put into comic form. Grognak, the Silver Shroud, the Watchers, Mighty Man, the Unstoppables, and the Unbeatable Shebeast. All made and idolized by youth until they grew up, still praising the same heroes.

This is the tale of one such hero. Not one from comics, or mythological origins. But one who people knew, one who people loved, one who was idolized not because of unbelievable exploits put into text, or told to children. But because of his actions, and his unwavering gaze in the face of impossibility. Even when outnumbered, outmatched, and outgunned, he never gave up on the people of the wastes. It was because of him that the Capital Wasteland is the way it is now, and we have him to thank for the peace we enjoy every single day.

He is our hero, our legend, our idol. He is the Wanderer.

~Excerpt from... "The Lone Wanderer," Published December 25th, 2297 As written by famed author Moira Brown

OoO( 1 )OoO

It seems that a lot of the most important moments in a human's life, whether a single man or woman, or humankind as a whole, begin with a flash of light. The creation of the universe is said to have begun with an explosion on a universal scale, a massive flash of photons and galactic fire that formed the livable plain of our existence. And when we first open our eyes, we are assaulted by an intense flash of light as our never before used eyes take in the world around us.

In October 2077, when the bombs fell, the entire world was exposed to a flash of light that literally changed the face of the planet. From the moment that flash covered the surface of the Earth, mankind was plunged into a world of fire and chaos, the likes of which they had never seen before. The entire world, reborn in a flash of light.

Just as one young man was reborn as he kicked open the rickety door of the tunnel he stood in. As soon as he did, he regretted it, as the blinding light of the massive star in their solar system stabbed at him like knives. His entire life, he'd had nothing but the artificial lights of Vault 101 to guide his path. Now, he desperately covered his watering eyes as the ultraviolet light pierced him to his very core. He immediately shrank back into the small cavern outside of the giant doorway of his home, shying away from the intense burning blanket that the sun laid on him.

As he sat in the cavern, he also began to feel other sensations that he'd never felt before. His skin, at least that exposed to the open air, had began to tingle slightly when he had come into contact with the outside air. No longer did thick walls and air filtration systems protect him from the harsh irradiated world. He merely sat, running a single hand through his brown hair as he allowed his eyes to recover from the intense pain they had just received.

While sitting, he thought about everything that had just happened. It seemed as if just yesterday, he had had his tenth birthday almost ruined by the annoying and always intruding Butch. Then again, time itself seemed to disappear in a flash to him, as if vault life were somehow making things go incredibly faster than they should. That was the same day he had gotten his Pipboy 3000, a device clamped around his arm that had practically become a best friend to him. No matter how hard he thought life was in the vault, the Vault Boy always continued to smile courageously, giving him the iconic thumbs up.

He looked down at the green tinted screen of the pipboy. But he was surprised to find that the Vault Boy no longer had a smile for him. Instead, the small figure's face was melancholy, as if saddened by what the boy was about to learn. It wasn't long before he happened to see the blinking appendage that the Vault Boy had. Immediately, he lifted and examined his own arm which was covered in the usual Vault 101 blue jumpsuit.

As it turned out, one of the officers he had to gun down for firing on Tom and Mary Holden had actually gotten him in the arm with a stray shot. How he managed to make it all the way through the fight and through the situation with the Overseer without noticing was beyond him. Such was the wonders of adrenaline, he guessed. Luckily, it wasn't bleeding much, and wouldn't be beyond repairing with a stimpack. He had gotten of much better than Mary, who unfortunately, had caught a bullet directly to her ulna, leaving it in pieces. She'd live, but would likely have to endure weeks of pain and medication before she fully recovered. She told the pair as much when he removed the round from her arm himself, a surgical process taught to him by his father.

That's when he growled menacingly. His father, the man who loved him and cared for him, ultimately left him behind in the vault when he made his escape. No warning, no signs, no hints, no nothing. Just fell asleep one night, then gone the next morning, leaving his son to fend off psychotic vault guards, radroaches, and an Overseer with a power trip. He slowly began to bandage his arm as he recalled the encounter with the overseer.

After his close call with the two officers down the narrow hallway leading to the Atrium, the young man was attempting to sneak past the Overseer's office to reach the front entrance to the vault itself. That was when he heard probably the most blood boiling, enraging sound he had ever heard in his life. It was the sound of Amata screaming in pain. The next few seconds were a blur as he stepped into the office and raised the gun that Amata had given him and fired it directly into the face shield of the man responsible.

Officer Mack, the guard that the Overseer was using to extract information from his daughter, was as sadistic and psychotic as all the rest put together. He had a baton out, one of the non-lethal methods used by Vault Security to keep the peace. But his had small rods on the tip, which sent waves of electricity into whatever they came in contact with. That was currently his best friend, and teenage romance, Amata.

As he fired, he aimed directly for the chest, knowing that it was the greatest target from their distance. The officer, who had turned as soon as he entered the room, was struck in the chest plate and knocked onto his back, groaning in pain. It was then, when he had a clear shot, and Mack was unarmed, that he stepped on the officer's now pain riddled gut, and aimed directly at the man's head. The next bullet smashed the flimsy plastic and splattered the man's blood all over the inside of the shattered mask.

The much older man quickly backed up, raising his hands in defense as John, the doctor's son, reached down to grab the electro-baton off of Mack's corpse. "Please! Don't kill him!" shouted Amata. His finger froze on the trigger as he stared at the man with a hatred that burned deeper than any of the fires that had sprung up in the vault. Reaching down, the doctor's son grabbed the baton that had fallen from Mack's hand when he was shot in the chest.

"Now young man, don't do anything you may regret…" said the Overseer, his tone surprisingly level for having a gun pointed at him by the young man responsible for executing one of his guards.

"You killed him you son of a bitch..." John said as he whipped the edge of the baton into the side of the Overseer's leg, causing the man's stance to buckle, sending him to the floor in pain. "He was a pushover, a fan of sci-fi comics who had trouble asking Jane on a date. And you had him killed..." Despite the probable knee fracture, the older man still managed to crawl backwards as the pistol was held in his face.

"Please..." was all he managed to get out before John aimed the baton at him as well.

"Save it." he said, whipping the baton across the Overseer's hand as it tried to grab the leg of his jumpsuit. "You've killed Jonas, you've tried to kill me, and you had that barbarian torturing your own goddamn daughter!" he shouted, the force behind his voice practically shaking the walls. Two of the guards that had come up to the door, preparing to take the young man down froze in place at the statement.

"I-I did it for the vault!" shouted the older man.

"Say the phrase "for the vault" one more time and this'll be going up your ass." said John viciously as he waved the shock baton in the man's face. "Now, I'm going to say two things, and you're going to listen to me as I say them. Do I make myself clear?" asked the enraged young man. The Overseer nodded his head rapidly. "Good, now stand up." he commanded. As Alphonse stood, John lowered the gun. "First, Officer Kendall has a wound to his left shoulder where I shot him after he pulled a gun on me. I patched him up, and he should be fine. Officers Richards and O'Brian are lying in the hallway to the atrium with their arms and hands crippled. I shot them because they fired on unarmed men and women who had nothing to do with me. And Officer Mack..." he said, looking down at the body as blood began to pool out from under the shattered face plate. "Well, he got exactly what he had coming." he said, then turned to the Overseer again. "Do you see what I'm getting at?" he asked.

Alphonse sighed and nodded. "You were defending yourself, and the other dwellers of the vault." he said in a tired tone. "Including my daughter..."

"Good. And second, this is for Amata." he said, pulling the trigger on his weapon. A loud pop sounded, and the Overseer, fell to his back. The Overseer's daughter watched in wide-eyed horror as her father seemed to fall in slow motion and hit the ground. She wanted to scream, but couldn't. She watched in shock for a few moments before she registered that someone else was screaming, namely her father.

The older man was now holding both hands to his head and was rolling around in throes of pain. "D-Dad!?" she asked incredulously as she stumbled over and knelt next to him. After taking a moment to pry his hands away from his face, she saw that his eyes were watering and he now had a large red welt directly in the center of his forehead.

"Amata is my best friend. She has my comm code, and I swear to you that if you ever lay another hand on her, I will kill you with my bare hands. Even if I have to rip away and blow through the vault walls myself. Do I make myself clear?" he asked.

"Yes! Yes! For the love of God yes!" he shouted, still rubbing tenderly at the sore spot on his forehead.

"What did you do to him?" she asked, bewildered that her father was still alive.

He smirked and turned to her, handing her the gun he held in his hand. "Taught him a lesson. If he ever gets out of line again, give him another shot." he said with a smirk. Amata looked down at the weapon and noticed immediately how small it was compared to the gun she gave him.

"A...A BB gun? You switched your guns out?" she asked. He nodded, and she laughed, and laughed. Her father glared at her, then stood up, noticing that John was now walking out the door to the office.

"Where do you intend to go?" asked the Overseer, his voice much less angry than a minute before, but no less irritated.

John just shrugged. "I don't know..." said the doctor's son as he reached up and scratched his head. "But I will find him, and I will make him answer for what he did here today." he said with a look of steel in his eyes.

"Good luck then." he merely said. After those final three words, he left the room and headed for the entrance of the vault, unhindered by the officers who were waiting outside the room for him. When he finally made it to the giant cog that sealed their vault shut, he marveled at it once again. He had only seen it a couple times, none of those times did he ever suspect he would one day return to open the doorway.

Amata approached the young man and eyed the door warily as the giant mechanism slammed into the entry point on the giant cog. After a moment or two of locking into place, it began to pull the crenelated metal wheel free from its home and slowly began to roll it aside. Now, Amata stood next to him as they watched the occurrence with wide eyes. "W-Wow...it's actually opened. You did it." she said in shock as she stared at the dark tunnel beyond the once secured door.

John turned to her and stared at her for a long moment before he held out his hand. "Amata, come with me." he offered.

She turned and looked at him as if he had just slapped her. "What?" she asked.

"I know it's a really crappy time to ask for a commitment, but we're here now. And...I know that when I'm with you, I can do anything. So...please. Come with me and help me find my father." he asked, holding his hand out to her.

The young woman looked at him, her gut plummeting at the admission, but at the same time, her knees were weak in fear. She wanted so bad to reach out and grasp his hand. Slowly, she put her hand forward to place in his, wondering what life on the outside was like. But then she remembered her father, and the people of the vault. She didn't know what was going to happen after the door closed again, but she knew that if she left, they'd all be defenseless. As that thought ran through her head, her hand pulled away again.

John's eyes widened as he saw her pull away. "I-I'm...I'm sorry..." she said, her eyes watering slightly as she stared at him. Despite his father's actions, and despite having to gun down several officers, this was definitely the most painful thing he had encountered today. Taking a step back, he turned away painfully. "John...please..."

"Close the door behind me. I don't want anything else getting in once I'm gone." he said as he reached up and grabbed the tattered armor that was now barely hanging off him. Ripping the velcro clad chest piece clean, he tossed it aside and grabbed his pack again, then began to venture into the dark tunnel that would forever change his fate.

Remembering the situation sent him through another rollercoaster of emotions, from fear of his father being gone, to the pure, unfettered rage he felt at the Overseer's actions, to the heartbreak of seeing her pull away. It all hit him again as he sat, still waiting for the dots to remove themselves from his gaze.

Now, he sat in the cave just outside the vault with the door sealed shut behind him. With his vision clearing, and him going nowhere until the sky darkened a little, he began to notice that the cave was littered with bones. Human bones to be exact. Most of them had been taken by the erosion of time and exposure, but there were still some that survived, the odd skull or full set of arm bones. Surprisingly, there was even a plastic sign written with the words "LET US IN FUCKERS!" scrawled on it in a hasty fashion. These people had wanted in the vault so badly that they literally died trying to enter. And he just left. The safety of the walls, the purified water, the non ultraviolet lights, all of it thrown out the proverbial window. He was here now, and there was no going back anymore.

He pulled out the lunchbox that his dad had stashed behind the picture of his mom's favorite quote from the Bible. Opening it up, he found the note from his father to Jonas transcribed on a holotape, something he'd listened to multiple times now since he had sat in the cave. The rest of the contents were a mix between different medications, and oddly, a large amount of bottle caps. He sighed to himself as he threw the holotape against the wall, shattering the fragile disc, then stood to his feet.

Finally, he stood up and stared out through the crack in the door. The sun was now setting, leaving the sky a hushed dark blue, and making it more than tolerable to his sheltered eyes. Grabbing his supplies, he tucked them away before opening the door and stepping outside. It was hard to breathe out here without coughing, but something he'd likely get used to with exposure. Looking out over the landscape to the east, he saw a small, ramshackle town. Then and there, he decided that this would be his first stop. "Dad, wherever you are, you've got a lot of questions to answer."

[riotdragonx]

The Shepard Chronicles

OoO( 1 )OoO

2174  CE, September 25 ESD - 1725 EST –  Taiyuan  , Shanxi

It had already been a stressful day for Zannis, the turian ambassador to Alliance Space. As soon as he landed on the planet, looks of despise and hatred were immediately aimed towards him, and the army of accountants and treasurers from Palaven. The scar left on the planet by their kind was still fresh, something that was immediately apparent as he looked around at all the seething glares directed at them. As the tall Palaven native stepped from the airbus that had flown them to the meeting site, he was immediately assaulted by a wall of sound as protesters shouted from across a security barricade. A lot of them were completely belligerent, shouting curses, slurs, and even throwing food items across the barricade at the airbus.

But he knew that was going to happen when coming here. He knew there would be resistance, not only to his presence on the hallowed battleground that was formerly occupied by his kind, but to the very idea of reparations for their actions during the Relay 314 incident. But it didn't bother him. He was made the turian ambassador to the Alliance for a reason, and this was it. Looking out over the signs people were holding, most of them were in a human language that even he didn't understand. After reading up on the incident before his appointment to his current position, he made a note that the majority of the people on the colony hailed from an Terran region known as the People's Republic of China. The strange symbols and curved, almost artistic looking language must be their local language. He even managed to spot a sign that only made him even more concerned; one bearing the image of a small avian animal known as a chicken. Shaking the image from his head, he turned away from the crowd and stepped towards the large capital building of the city Taiyuan.

Once inside, he was among humans who knew what he was here for. But despite that, he could still feel tensions rising as he and the five other turians following him made their way down the cavernous hall that his people once painted with the colors of the Hierarchy. Despite the rivalry between the two races, he was determined to see this through and give these people what they deserved. As he walked, he was stopped by a human, who held out his hand in greeting. The turian stopped and looked down at the hand, before reaching forward awkwardly and grasping it. The human shook his hand firmly before offering to lead him to the conference room. The media were everywhere in the lobby of the lavishly decorated building. Though they weren't using flashes, he could easily spot at least ten of them that were taking pictures of him. No doubt sending it to their sources back on Earth and on the Citadel. Soon, his face would be stamped on the screen of every tabloid in the galaxy, insuring that he would be stripped of his honor as a turian. "The Human Sympathizer," they would read after they went live. "The turian who payed off humanity, who sold the honor of his own people." Knowing he was likely to be the target of more than just human aggressors in the future, he still walked on. This was what was right, even if it painted a target on his back.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the human opened a large set of double doors and allowed his people inside. Already inside were several security guards, armed with the usual shock batons and body armor. In the memo, he was assured that mass effect propelled weapons weren't being allowed inside, or anywhere near the building. Even the security had to use old school hand-to-hand weapons due to the fact that the turian couldn't be assured that the entire security detail didn't still hate his race enough not to shoot when given the opportunity. At the table were several humans in suits worthy of the Citadel Council. Six of them sat around a circular table, taking up effectively one side of the surface. Breathing deeply, the turian pulled a chair back and sat down, his compatriots following his lead.

OoOoO

2174  CE, Harvest Season 22 PSD - 2228 PST – Karkarus Estate - Cipritine, Palaven

He had been on edge since the beginning of the season. As soon as the offer came up, he approved it with hesitancy. Both because the potential for something going wrong was extremely high, and because he was still of the opinion that after the blow dealt at Relay 314, his people paid more than enough with their lives, and the damage their fleet received from the human onslaught. But even his brother in arms, Sparatus, was not immune to peer pressure from the other Council members. So he must be the diplomat, and entertain the humans in their request for compensation. Despite his aversion to the concept, he never half-assed a job. Setting his pride aside, he selected someone who knew much more about the incident than he did as the ambassador.

Even with all the precautions he took, the entire thing gave him a feeling of dread. Which was why, when he noticed his home communicator ringing that night, he felt his crop tighten. Groaning, he set aside the book he was reading and grabbed the comm unit. This device was the one restricted for emergencies only, and it going off on this specific night couldn't be a coincidence. Finally, he answered it. "Fedorian here."

"Tevarin, it's Ming." came the voice from the other side.

Reaching back, the Primarch rubbed his neck. "Governor Ming...I was hoping not to have to hear from you on this line. What is it?" he asked as the human.

"A small sect from an anti-alien group known as the Sons of Adam have entered the building and have taken all of the negotiators hostage." said the governor, getting straight to the point.

"You assured me when I agreed to the summit being held on Shanxi that they would be properly protected." said the turian as he stood out of his chair angrily, staring at the features of the human on the communicator.

"We denied security accelerator weapons to prevent any itchy trigger fingers. It turns out that the Sons of Adam had been smuggling weapons onto the planet for the better part of the month, and the guards weren't able to fight back as a result. I've already contacted Captain Hackett with our Alliance fleet. They're sending infiltrators into the building to neutralize the threat." finished the man, his accent removed as it was filtered through the communicator's translator.

"I'm going to send a squadron of my people too." said the Primarch as he searched through his communicator for the correct number.

"I don't think that would be wise..." said Governor Ming as he donned a look of concern. "Having turians on Shanxi was enough to incite protest. Imagine the backlash if armed turians in military armor were seen."

But Tevarin glared. "Your assurance that they would be safe ensured that they were captured. I'm sending a squad of our special forces there to assist the Alliance." he snapped. Chen Ming sighed and reached up to rub his head in frustration, immediately killing the threatening fire within Fedorian. "I understand the concern you have with armored turians coming to Shanxi. But the best thing we can do right now is partner up to show people that we will not tolerate this kind of hostility among our people. Maybe if people see them working together, they'll start believing such a peace can exist."

Ming stared at the turian for a long moment, before finally nodding. "Agreed. I'll have a human ship ready with a trusted pilot docked on the Citadel. It will carry your squad to our rally point discreetly. In the meantime, I'll have security clear out a few blocks around so that nobody sees the teams. Don't want anyone tipping them off." said the human as he ran a hand through his graying hair. "Tevarin, I would highly appreciate it of your military kept its target sights on the extremists."

"The same courtesy would be appreciated from yours. I'll call you as soon as they arrive on the Citadel." finished Primarch Fedorian as Governor Ming nodded, then cut the communication. Tossing aside the device, Tevarin immediately pulled up the number for the Legate.

OoOoO

 2174 CE, September 25 ESD - 2252 EST – Taiyuan , Shanxi

The shuttle had landed smoothly behind one of the many office buildings situated around the capital building. The entire flight, they flew low to the ground, using the other structures in the area as cover in order to keep from being seen by the insurgents that now occupied the main site. As they landed, the commander of their unit, a man known only as "Spider" by anyone besides his unit, began explaining the mission in detail.

He stood from his seat, easily too tall for the compact shuttle that they were currently occupying. The newbie to the group, a fresh recruit, who had been picked up and adopted by the small intel detachment after only a year of service, stayed in her seat and looked up at him. She admired the man for many reasons. His record, which was highly classified, was immaculate. Hundreds of infiltration and reconnaissance missions under his belt, zero screw ups, and a record so clean that the Alliance brass barely knew who he actually was. He was a ghost, pure and simple, and he taught her everything she knew. Now, it was her turn to prove it to him. Sitting beside her was another, more grizzled veteran of the squad. An aged man by the name of Dukh. She hadn't seen much of his work, and he aimed to keep it that way.

Directly across from her, seated on the other side of the leader was a silent, dark-skinned man who looked as if he was deep in thought. Despite her own skills, he was supposedly the leading tech expert on the team. There was a joke that was once made about him, saying that if he wanted to, he could rob every bank and credit union on the Citadel blind and retire without a trace. And while they all had a good chuckle, she could sense a small tone of seriousness underneath the mirth. This man, again, was highly unknown to her. Besides his given name, which was Echo, he was a blank slate. He had also taught her plenty about how to improve her electronic sabotage and infiltration abilities.

A month after she joined the fairly unspoken of squad, she earned her own nickname. The name Torch was now what all of her current comerades referred to her as. She wasn't aware if it was simply due to her red hair, or the fact that the remains of any system she attacks might as well be on fire. But she liked it regardless. And despite the nickname, and their comradeship, she didn't know any of them. She didn't even know if they knew each other. The only reason she knew anything about Spider was because of her initiation. As her first act in the squad, she was required to find and crack a highly classified document from any nation on Earth. All of them were given warning ahead of time, but that didn't matter. Using her special skills, she managed to dive head first into an Alliance Network in Vancouver and uncover a mission relating to the destruction of a batarian cruiser that was drifting a bit too close to Alliance space. The newspapers reported on it, calling it a catastrophic failure. And even the intel received from transmissions between Khar'Shan and Camala refers to the the incident as an accident. The only thing that was noticeable about the classified information was that the name 'Spider' was attached to it. When she presented the information to him, he seemed both mildly impressed, and annoyed at the same time.

Ever since, she was a member of the group. Though the group was hardly ever together. They mostly did solo missions out in the Verge, filtering information about the batarians back to Alliance intel. Or even attaining assets who tried to flee from the harsh caste-based society that was the Batarian home planet. But this, this was serious. It could spark a war, riots, outrage, and high tensions with humans on the Citadel. So the group came together.

After the quick explanation of the situation, the redhead stood from her seat. Spider opened the door to the aircar and allowed them out. He had mentioned inside the car that they would be working with a team from the Hierarchy's own forces. There were four of them standing outside their own vehicle as well, three taller ones with one about the size of Dukh on the end. This particular figure, outfitted in black and red armor with a black face shield, was staring directly at her. Taking her helmet, the lieutenant slid it on before walking with the others over to the Hierarchy team.

Immediately, Spider stepped forward and introduced them. Despite the situation, it was clear that nobody among the humans had any issues with the turians. Or if they did, they were keeping a straight face about it. "Glad to meet our turian counterparts." said the human commander as he stood before the tall alien at the head of their group. "I'm Spider, and back here we've got Dukh, Echo, and Torch."

The lead turian reached up and tapped the side of his helmet, making the faceplate turn from a solid black, to translucent. He then stared at Spider with a curious look on his face. "Is it common practice for humans to use nicknames?" asked the black-armored figure.

"Only when we want to separate our work selves from our real selves. We all have families to protect." said the human.

"Oddly inspiring." said the turian as he turned to his own crew. "We are with the 26th Armiger Legion, or more simply put, Ghosts. I'm Squadleader Tarkarian. Behind me are operatives Nikelik, Arondis, and Shevar." When he mentioned the name of the turian at the end, the woman turned and stared at the soldier once more, only to find that like their leader, they had undarkened their faceshield. From a once over look, she could tell just by the facial features on this turian that it was female. Despite her Xenolinguistics classes, she had never had the chance to encounter a turian woman. She had to say, she wasn't disappointed. "We were told that some of our negotiators are being held hostage inside the capital building here by a pro-human group. Given the likelihood of this turning into a bloodbath, we wanted to straight out ask if you even want us here."

"We have a choice in the matter?" asked Dukh, whose rough voice drew the attention of the four turians.

"Not exactly. We have to be here on orders regardless. But with respect from one infiltration unit to another, we don't want to tread on spikes. If you think you can handle this without us, all the better, and less chance of a catastrophic political cataclysm." finished Tarkarian as he stared back at Spider.

The tall man stood for a moment, staring at the turian with a curious smile on his face. "Let's make a deal. The side who takes out the most hostiles buys beer for the other." he said firmly.

Tarkarian let out a small chuckle and nodded. "There may be hope for you humans yet." he said as he turned to his squad. "That's fine, but we'll need to secure the negotiators first. Don't want them to get caught in the crossfire."

"Already on it." said Echo as he stepped forward. On his omnitool, the man brought up a holographic display of the inside of the building. "Already got the room spotted, just need to avoid the walkers and take out the two standing guard over the hostages."

"A spy drone?" asked the turian leader as he examined the map.

As the two continued with their planning, the turian woman grabbed her attention with a hand wave. Shepard looked over at the curiously tall figure, then saw her point to her omnitool. Getting the signal, the infiltrator brought up her own display, and connected their two helmets easily enough. "How are you with that Mantis?" asked Shevar, her voice clearly more feminine than the leader's.

"Pretty good. You?" asked Shepard as she spied a particularly nasty looking Punisher on the woman's back.

"Pretty good. Though I prefer to let my blades do the talking." replied the turian Ghost.

Shepard smiled inside her helmet. "That'll be interesting to see."

"Same goes for you. Can't wait to see you in action." she said as the two leaders finally concluded the meeting.

"Alright, ladies and gentlemen. Here's the plan..." said Spider as he used Echo's holo map to lay out their entrypoint.

[riotdragonx]

“Y-you too.”

[riotdragonx]

In the beginning!

There were words. Still trying to work this whole Tumblr thing out, but hopefully it goes well and plenty of people enjoy my stuff on here. Any advice from veterans is highly appreciated as well, so don’t be shy about telling me what I’m doing wrong.