#chaotic good soundin ass

[number-1-panstander]

just started watching one piece and goddamnit Luffy is so based.

like this dude really just walked up to Michael Jackson, called him fat and ugly, and proceeded to wreck his whole crew and make them get a boat for Michael’s child slave. He doesn’t give a shit and it’s so goddamn epic istg.

[purkinje-effect]

The Purkinje Effect, 33

Table of Contents

‘Choly and Geek both glanced at their Pip-Boys, the former on his right wrist and the latter on his left. Then, they glanced to each other, almost as though to insinuate they needed to turn their keys at the same time like some kind of launch sequence.

“Didn’t know it worked on vaults besides the one they came from.” The pink ghoul waved off ‘Choly and scaled the stairs of the mezzanine up to the vault door. “Don’t worry ‘bout gettin’ down, I’ll get it.”

While Geek looked over the lead yellow panel and unreeled the tension-rolled wire key-prong of his Pip-Boy, ‘Choly and Hancock watched from ground level.

“Pip-Boys are RobCo tech, not Vault-Tec.” ‘Choly couldn’t not interrupt the silence. “They’re compatible, and they’re both military affiliates. You shouldn’t be all too surprised, really.”

“Like ya better when you’re not spoutin’ off condescending trivia.”

Geek remembered how to engage the panel. He inserted the cylindrical lipstick-key into its port, then flipped the protective clear lid off the big red square button and mashed it with the butt of his fist. When the alert sirens started their low bleating, and the amber warning lights to either side of the gear-shaped door got to rotation, he rejoined his compatriots, unsure which direction the door would be pulled. After a series of mechanical processes, the door pulled in a few feet and rolled away to one side, producing a telescoping catwalk into the vault.

Geek shouldered Hancock.

“After you.”

Hancock took the lead, Geek close behind, and ‘Choly lagged a bit to keep an eye peeled. They entered, with caution, into a collective jumble of different colored aluminum shipping crates.

“Goddammit,” a ghoul Triggerman muttered. “I hate it when they open the door. Why’s that thing so loud?”

Geek shot an arm out to keep Hancock from going any further, the hand of the other hushing him.

“Skinny? Darla? That you?”

The Triggerman came out from behind the concrete support pillar where he’d hidden, and when they startled him, he pulled a pistol on them. He knocked a few bullets into Geek before the pink ghoul could get in close enough to rake the guy’s throat open, and the ghoul mobster crumpled with a gurgle.

Hancock tried the pocket door immediately ahead of them, and when it wouldn’t open, he steadied his shotgun at the lock panel in squinting irritation, only to bum a Mentat off the chemist instead of following through with the threat.

“Damn.” Hancock sighed. “Door’s out. Either it’s fritzed out or the terminal for it must be on the inside.”

“This vault is quite strange.” ‘Choly popped a sublingual Mentat of his own and squinted off to the right of them, where the Medbay lay. “Not even one room into the place, and I already feel like nothing is going to be located where one would expect it.”

“Glad we’re on the same page with that one.” Geek lit up another cigarette, trying to steel his shaking as he glanced off at a second storage room to the left. “Take it yours ain’t set up like this, and mine ain’t, either. Also glad that ass got my left shoulder. Better with my right.” He pointed at Hancock. “Before we step another inch in this place, you’re talkin’. This ain’t just ‘bout your little friend, comin’ in here.”

Hancock raised his hands in a sly resignation.

“Guilty as charged. I figured this job would be a better starting bonding exercise than the library. These rats keep creeping up in my territory, and this is their nest. Does multi-duty, clearing this place out. This is mostly about Nick, but it also stands to make Goodneighbor a lot safer in the process. That, and...” He gave Geek a mollifying smolder. “This is a vault. Hopefully there’s some useful information here besides a nonstandard blueprint. Might even find some... familiar equipment?”

“Mmh. And the muzzle?”

“I meant it when I said it was for everybody’s protection, but I also mean it that it ain’t ‘cause I don’t trust ya. It’s just, ah. Nick’s the reason I came around to synths, and I know a lot of folks--him and me included--who’d rather he got home in one piece.”

Appeased by the answer though a bit hurt by it, Geek left Hancock and ‘Choly to talk between themselves while he ducked into the Medbay to retrieve a Stimpak. He administered it just under the armpit, through the fabric of his jumpsuit, so it could do its work while he surveyed the side storage room for anything useful. He came across a functioning terminal and sat and read while his companions jabbered.

Geek skimmed the Check-In instructions. It read just like his own had. Line up and maintain calm. Change into your Vault Suit immediately. Save all inquiries for orientation. The list of families slotted to inhabit Vault 114 was far shorter than the one for Vault 82--a mere thirty-eight individuals plus one dog annotated, between nine families and one bachelor--and it nagged at him that some of the names seemed vaguely familiar somehow. Unlike Vault 82, however, personnel had marked the dog as “do NOT allow,” and he sneered at the notion that the residents had to pick between their pets and shelter from annihilation. Plenty of 82′s families had included a variety of different animal members, but within a year of being sealed up from the outside world, all but one had been the first casualties of relying on the nutritive paste.

He didn’t much enjoy the reminder of Emery’s African grey. Not that it stayed grey for long.

“A synth?” ‘Choly got knotted up in a tangled sarcasm. “We’re down here to rescue a robot? You pulling one on me now?”

“Hey now, Nick's way more than just a robot. Take it from your tone you never met any of the more... high end models?” Through the window in the wall, Geek glanced up to see Hancock trace a jocular hourglass gesture with his fingertips.

“Just how many callers have you got, Casanova?”

“It was a joke! Really, though, I’ve lost count...”

Geek opened a disclosure file, and skimmed what read at a glance to be an outline of the type of traffic to expect and allow prior to the vault’s completion. He tried the vertical metal hydraulic pocket door, to no avail, so he vanished the cigarette butt and doubled back to where his companions stood waiting for him.

“According to that terminal in there, Vault-Tec didn’t just buy land that had already been dug out, by cuttin’ a deal with the city to use Park Street Station for the vault... but they also outsourced labor to a number of contractors instead of using their own employees. Somethin’ tells me this vault wasn’t made top quality. Some a the names on the roster are buggin’ me too, soundin’ familiar. Like... Todd Gates.”

“You don’t remember Todd Gates!” ‘Choly scoffed over the gossip. “He ran for Boston mayor a few years before everything went to hell. He hadn’t settled down with kids let alone a wife, and it hurt his public image bad enough to sabotage his own election success. Boston wanted a family man. He lived here?”

Geek could only squint at the chemist a moment, uneasy to have his memory jogged with what felt like proof of ‘Choly being unequivocally prewar, for him to blurt that out like it had just happened yesterday. He sighed and let it go.

“If it’s the same guy. That door over there don’t lead to a supply closet. Let’s try it.”

The door in mention lay in the storage space to the left of the atrium, and the three took it to find a long maintenance hall with winding stairs. Approaching another storage room, they all hugged either side of the open pocket door’s frame, to eavesdrop on the Triggermen inside. The two conversed in the next maintenance hall to the left of this room. Despite the shipping crates, what seemed like another storage room at a glance might have actually been intended as a locker room.

“So, I got a question,” one of them started. “Why the hell would anyone build a vault out of a subway station? This place is like... the opposite of air-tight.”

“Because they weren’t planning to use it, you moron.” The ghoul sounded wounded by the naivete of his ally. “We used to pull this kind of con all the time back before the war. Get a bunch of union boys to work some construction job that would go nowhere. Keep everyone on payroll.”

Geek rolled his one good eye that he’d cold read the vault construction process, and proceeded to try to get the rush on the two of them, managing to slash the human’s throat from behind before the ghoul caught wind of the ambush. He rolled his left shoulder and made eye contact with the other Triggerman as he dropped the first one. Before the second one could steady his submachine gun in Geek’s direction, Hancock had fired off a pair of rounds from just behind him, which clipped the Triggerman in the arm and throat.

“Startin’ t’like this knife.”

“It sure is messy.” Hancock shot him a concerned look. “Don’t let me makin’ you mad get you running reckless into predicaments, all right? You know I’m doing my best. For both of you.”

“Could have fooled me.” ‘Choly loitered behind in the locker room, just watching. “I really don’t understand why you dragged both of us into all this.”

“Mister Carey means to say he feels like a third wheel,” Angel elaborated.

Geek snorted and made an inviting gesture to the Handy-bound vaultie.

“Tight corridors like these, it’s best to trade off in pairs. By all means. Lead the way, y’Nimrod. Anybody’s guess which way’s the right way, with what I’m guessin’ was the front door locked tight. I’ll let you two take the lead.”

‘Choly gladly led them off down the hallway, Hancock right behind him and Geek a ways after that. The chemist opened the pocket door at the end of the hall, only for them to come upon another maze of mezzanines, enormous pipelines, and blinding construction spotlights. Another chaotic fray erupted between the trio and ten Triggermen occupying the chamber of halted construction, much in same the fashion as the first before they’d passed the vault door. Once they’d dealt with the criminals, they spread out to look for a path to proceed.

“A Plutonium Well?” ‘Choly remarked with a sniff, recoiling away from the source of radiation that lit up the Geiger counter of his Pip-Boy. “They hit a Municipal Plutonium Well drilling and just... left it?”

“I’ll do you one worse,” Hancock replied, shaking his head in disbelief as he stared at what could only be skeletons and coffins spilling out. “I don’t think Vault-Tec had a permit to be excavating this far in. Talk about cuttin’ corners...”

‘Choly joined him and frowned with a deferential Russian mumble.

Meanwhile, Geek had investigated the wall through which they’d entered the chamber, and happened upon another room. He rooted through the toolkit he found in the middle of the room, and pocketed the fistful of cash he found beside it without a word. He peered down the two-story-deep opening in the floor to a room below them, and he rubbed his face when he recognized its original function would likely have been an elevator shaft had it been finished. 

“Did y'all find any other way deeper in?” he asked them from the doorway.

“No. You?”

“Hope you’re not scared of heights.”

The pink ghoul doubled back with a bated breath. There was only one way to put his new leg armor framework to the test. Power armor had impact resistance mechanisms for jumping off ledges in minor cases, or from Vertibirds in extreme cases. He lit a fresh cigarette, and didn’t wait for his companions to join him before he leaped down with a metallic din. Looking to his footing, he’d left a dent in the enameled metal flooring, and he chuckled through a long smoky exhale.

“I’d say they work.”