#ncr sharecropper farms

[delafiseaseses]

I thought about the NCR Sharecropper Farms and Concluded they should not Exist.

Strong opening line, 'ey? How's ol' Delafiseaseses gonna justify that?

Quite easily, actually. Y'see some people misunderstand the NCR Sharecropper Farms, they think it provides food to the Mojave. Not true. It provides food to the NCR, clues in the name, really. Its a Sharecrop, the NCR gets some of the crop and the sharecroppers get the rest of their crop as payment, the portion the NCR takes goes to NCR Military bases. As Romanowski says 'A lot of the crops grown here support the various NCR camps in the region - McCarran, Golf, and Forlorn Hope, to name a few. We can't have wastelanders popping in here for a free meal, so my squad and I are assigned to keep things from going to hell.' and when Romanowski says 'Wastelanders' he means 'people from the Mojave Wasteland' of course.

Do the sharecroppers sell their crops to Mojave citizens? Possibly, but remember all the sharecroppers are NCR citizens brought over by the 'Thaler Act', nobody from the Mojave directly benefits from this arrangement.

You may think 'Well, not like anyone in the Mojave before was using the land.' possibly wrong. While he's not from the Mojave (and is an unrepentant Enclave fascist, but that's irrelevant) Orion Moreno has this to say 'I came out here to get away from them - didn't work out so well. Next thing I know, I'm squatting in "their" land. Never mind that I'd already been living here for years.', and when he says 'years' he could mean up to over 3 decades. So we've got to wonder... was the land unoccupied? Moreno is a stubborn old Enclave soldier, he wouldn't scare easy, he gets harassed by the NCR, as he says when you first meet him 'Bah. Looks like I forgot to lock the doors again. If you're with the NCR, get out. This place is mine, and I'm not leaving.' or, if you am in NCR faction armour 'Look, trooper, I was living in this house long before your farms got set up. Don't even think about evicting me.' most people would be forced off by these tactics. So it is entirely possible the NCR has displaced Mojave residents to set up their precious farm.

Both quests involving the Sharecropper Farm also include a backdrop of NCR vs Mojave Locals. The most obvious is, of course, The White Wash. The Westside Co-Op, an actual local community farming effort (which does have some New Californians, but they're unaffiliated with the NCR), is only surviving because of the syphoning of water from the Sharecroppers by Tom Anderson. The water from the local water system that the NCR took over, I might add. Why do they get to claim ownership of Lake Mead's water and the Vegas water system?

And the second, Hard Luck Blues is more indirect. The NCR isn't at fault at all for this, the Vault 34 Civil War damaged their reactor and that was entirely on them. But the final choice between saving the Vault 34 Survivors or dealing with the radiation leak caused by the Vault 34 Civil War killing the survivors. So it is literally saving an NCR Asset or saving people who for over 200 years have lived in the Mojave.

Now, I'm not saying the Sharecroppers themselves deserve to suffer lower than needed water rations or radiation in their soil. They didn't set this up, they're just working class NCR citizens trying to survive, but, the thing is, the Sharecroppers can just... leave. And they do if these quests are resolved in ways that hurt the Farms.

After the White Wash siding with Anderson/Westside the affected sharecropper Trent Bascom says he's quitting because 'I wouldn't be able to meet the quota, and the NCR would kick me out of my job, anyway. Nah, it's better I get out on my own terms.' and he's even got a plan for his future 'I hear the Brahmin ranchers out in Redding are looking for some hard workers, so I might try there first. I hate working with Brahmin, though.' so, yeah, that sucks for him, but he's got a future. He may not like that future, but its more of a future than the Westsiders have if they lose their Co-Op.

And after Hard Luck Blues you can find some Sharecroppers out front of the Big Horn Saloon in Boulder City. The named member of this group is a woman named Anne, she has this to say 'We're heading back home. I hope our troops do the same. This land can't be saved. Trying to grow crops in this heat, with so little water, is bad enough, but now we've got radiation seeping into the farmlands east of New Vegas. We're done. Let the people of these hell-hole deal with their problems, I say.' and, y'know, I agree. Maybe the people of the Mojave should deal with their problems and not have a military force from somewhere else claiming their land and water? Especially since the area is still disputed at this time. They're literally fighting a bloody war which they have a 3/4 chance of losing during all of this.

To put this all in a shorter way: The NCR Sharecropper Farm's existence is an example of NCR colonialism.

Like, it's textbook fucking colonialism. They forcefully took over part of a land that's not theirs, brought in their own people to 'settle' the land and violently keep the locals out of it all, who suffer because of it. I've said before that the NCR playacts the USA and they certainly playact it accurately.

So, unless you're doing an NCR playthrough, I'd say its probably best to side against the Sharecropper Farm in every instance because the NCR Sharecropper Farms should not exist. It sucks for the Sharecroppers, but they'd be out of the job when the NCR withdraws anyway. Probably best for everyone if they get out before the NCR Military does.

[twosides--samecoin]

I'm trying not to be That Guy on someone's post but I need to get this off my chest

[oldworldwidgets]

TEDDY TIME TEDDY TIME

howdy pardners this is theodore dawson, my courier from new vegas :3 he is very large and very angry yet very soft and very gay and he is so precious to me

here's his playlist!! once again it's chronological so u can listen to his story like a fun yeehaw jukebox musical. i think his is my favorite of all my character playlists

alllll the teddy stuff (appearance, stats, story before the canon events of the game, fun facts) can be found under the cut!!! if you feel so inclined to read The Long Version written like a story where my longwinded ass spends about 7k words talking about themes and character motivations (and some soft gay longing perhaps), it's up on ao3 here.

appearance

41 years old; birthday may 3, 2240

6’6 with broad shoulders, generally built like a securitron.

patches of vitiligo splash across his face, chest, and arms

bennys bullet hit the right side of his face, carving a path from his eye to his ear, where a chunk of his ear is missing

because of this, he's blind in his right eye. the blind eye (a light, milky blue) is always a bit more closed than the seeing one (a dark, warm brown)

dark auburn chin-length hair and a short beard, both peppered with white because of his age and vitiligo. a big chunk of hair behind his ear is white as it grows from the scar.

he wears a horse or cow-skin vest with a great khans patch on the back

signature black cowboy hat, either on the top of his head or tied around his neck so it hangs down his back

gold jewelry - dangly cross earring in his left ear, upside down cross on a leather strap around his neck, big ass belt buckle

bright red shotgun shells on leather belt slung around his waist for his shotgun, dinner dell

stats

SPECIAL: 8, 1, 4, 5, 9, 2, 10

favorite perks: confirmed bachelor, animal friend, ferocious loyalty, intimidating presence

story

his dad was raised in utah and was very strictly mormon. when new jerusalem collapsed, dad moved himself, his wife, and his first son to the mojave and found work on an NCR sharecropper farm.

teddy was born fifth of six kids: four older brothers and one younger sister. he, his sister hannah, and his brother noah all have very visible vitiligo.

the kids were all also raised strictly mormon. his whole childhood, they were very poor. "at least we have each other" poor. his dad blamed it on the NCR, who owned the house and land and animals they ranched. they owned nothing, and the NCR paid them little more than that. teddy was quickly disillusioned with the NCR, then with the three of his brothers who decided to join them. one brother stayed back to inherit the ranch.

turns out, the NCR was paying; dad was just gambling it all away. he was so deeply in debt to all the families on the strip that they all decided to cut their losses and burn his farm to the ground.

that's... that's the story teddy decided to tell hannah, anyway (he wouldnt tell u this but he totally burnt that shit down on purpose). mom, dad, and one of his brothers were lost in the fire. teddy and hannah made it out, waved goodbye, parted ways.

teddy took his horse, old red, and began running jobs for whoever needed them. he never tied himself to one organization aaand his jobs weren't always above the ethical board. really, it was luck of the draw that, on any given day, he was the one defending the caravan instead of stealing from it

when he eventually went searching for his siblings, he found that two of the three brothers that had enlisted, predictably, were killed on duty. noah, though, had absconded almost immediately upon arrival due to a nasty chem habit

he found hannah "working" in front of gomorrah on the stip - her vitiligo made them instantly recognizable to each other - but she pretended not to know him because she was ashamed. he understood and gave up, but not before she hinted that he could find noah at the old mormon fort

he did, in fact, find noah there, medically detoxing under the care of some hot, blonde doctor (bweheheh....). they reconnected and it was..... really nice, even when they talked about how ashamed their dad would be if he could see them. it didnt matter. the family disappointments were the only family survivors.

teddy and arcade quickly grew very fond of each other, with arcade even being the first one to call him "teddy" after he told the doctor his name was theodore. he decided, despite its cutesy nature, to keep it.

after finishing his open jobs, teddy decided to stay with noah at the fort and run jobs for the followers when they needed it. he got reeeal comfy with arcade, and their subtle, playful flirtations eventually became noticeable to others. his brother, angry and sick from chem withdrawal and still fighting his religious upbringing, could not handle finding out that his baby brother was gay. when he did, he angrily shouted slurs and threw bottles at them until he was sedated and returned to bed.

teddy left the fort that night while everyone but the night watchman slept. he struggled to recover from what happened and drifted listlessly for a while... until he heard the news that noah had fled from his "rehab" program in the fort the day after teddy left, overdosed, and died.

the news spurred something in him, and he went looking for a real family and place to call home. after excelling in his initiation trials, he found one with the great khans. for two years, he was their resident rancher, runner, therapist, you name it.

then: 2278. the bitter springs massacre. teddy was away when it happened, and he still hasnt forgiven himself for it.

he spent the next three years drifting - again. hunting NCR. somehow racking up bounties in seemingly every single tribe in the mojave. his infamy, believe it or not, helped him survive: when he came across those who would kill him or turn him in, they seemed to prioritize who got to turn him in and collect the bounty over keeping themselves alive. whoops!

it was exhausting, though. drifting, killing, taking on the wasteland completely alone (except his beloved animals) took a heavy toll on teddy. he'd always been a killer and an outlaw, but he'd always been paid to clear other people's consciences. now, he felt he was only killing people to run from the consequences of his own actions. it was exhausting.

so, when three strangers – one in a loud, black-and-white checkered blazer – tried to knock him out and bind his hands, well… he had no reason not to let them.

*aint that a kick in the head starts blaring*

fun facts

hes not a big chem guy but hes such an alcoholic. in game he keeps at least 10 whiskeys on him at all times but would prefer to drink a sarsaparilla over using a stimpak.

he needs glasses pretty badly for his one seeing eye but he’s too stubborn to wear them

his scars always look a bit irritated because he doesnt take care of himself

he was a big pistol guy before benny shot him, but after he went blind in his aiming eye and started suffering from bouts of dizziness, he became a shotgunner. they require a far-from-perfect style of aiming

[vilevexedvixen]

Why I usually choose Mr. House

I find it very bizarre that a faction I would oppose if only taking my political views into account is the faction I agree with the most in the context of New Vegas. On principle, I wouldn't choose to side with an autocratic libertarian, but New Vegas is the exception.

NCR:

When people argue in favor of the NCR they seem to be overly focused on the NCR's principles above the NCR's actions as a whole and because it's not as disagreeable as The Legion (though The Legion lowered the bar beneath the floorboards frankly). Even putting the NCR's attempted eradication of The Khans, theft of territory and resources from westside and other Mojave settlements, and the unpaid labor using its prison population aside. Only framing the NCR's occupation as a protective and beneficial one, the NCR is exhausted. It is overstretched, understaffed and underfunded. Even if the NCR did take the dam, the core territory of the NCR is barely able to supply and maintain the current occupation so it wouldn't be a viable long-term faction for the Mojave specifically.

The entire reason the NCR is expanding is to obtain more resources for its core territory. The expansion itself requires resources the NCR doesn't really have, so once they extract all the resources they need from the Mojave, great now their territory and population are larger so now they need to expand even MORE to get MORE resources until it eventually cannot sustain its current size, let alone further expansion. The troops' training may kid them into thinking its about protecting the Mojave or spreading democracy across the wasteland, but it's always been about extracting resources for the NCR and the NCR alone.

For the benefit of both the NCR and the Mojave, the NCR should pull out before it births something it cannot support.

Caesar's Legion:

Again, putting aside the political reasons I disagree with this faction (evil playthroughs be damned lol) such as the explicit slavery, cultural assimilation and annihilation of the tribes it conquers, The Legion can only last as long as it has tribes to consume. The extreme end of what the NCR is doing but much more purely extractive with no actual attempts to replenish the food stocks and other resources the way the NCR does with sharecropper farms to at least sustain its occupation somewhat. Sure, it has some capacity for trade, because it acts as an effective deterrent to various raider factions which otherwise would terrorise non-legion (but legion-allied) traders and settlers (groups too small for The Legion to benefit from absorbing them rather than just trading with them). In a way, The Legion is a more effective bringer of peace and order than the NCR, especially against factions that are causing genuine harm to peaceful settlements such as The Fiends, The Vipers, and The Jackals, which consistently overwhelm NCR troops.

That aside, I agree with House that in-fighting and collapse are likely after Caesar's death. Even without his death, The Legion is just as over-extended as the NCR and so would still implode for similar reasons, though their tunnel-vision on conquest and relatively small population compared to the myriad settlements the NCR tried to maintain on top of its military affairs means its collapse may take a little longer / The Legion is more likely to disband for political reasons before implosion from resource scarcity and overextension are a major issue.

Independent route (Yes Man):

Freeside, Westside and The Sewers (technically still Westside) are my favourite sections of New Vegas. I wish there was a quest which allowed the courier to actually try and let Freesiders back into The Strip once Mr. House is eliminated, or otherwise just more directly allow the courier to help these areas establish their own sovereignty / protect them from invading forces. Without this, I just headcanon that the courier helps do this after the game ends. I like to think that the courier doesn't become an autocrat, and steps down once the NCR and The Legion are pushed out. Effectively allowing existing smaller factions to function autonomously in relative anarchy and mutual inter-dependence. Basically functioning the way Andrewism puts in this video ->

I always got the vibe that Yes Man doesn't especially like the courier, or anyone he takes orders from really since he is incapable of disobeying them. Apparently his reprogramming to become more assertive at the end of the game is so that he only follows the courier's orders, which only makes sense if Yes Man genuinely agrees with and/or likes the courier. That's not quite how I read it, Yes Man is still the key force the player relies on to actualise Vegas' independence and him then becoming autonomous leaves the courier vulnerable to be undermined (Yes Man is the one most directly in control of the securitron army, not the courier). I don't trust Yes Man to impose his own authority on the Mojave after the courier steps down or dies, rather than Yes Man sticking to a role as the functional military to push out any invading forces or group that seeks to undermine the anarchy and sovereignty of the Mojave.

Overall, I'm actually kind of split between the independent route and Mr. House, but since the independent route is left pretty open the player can insert any number of intended outcomes from it. Anywhere from the courier crowning themselves the "rightful ruler" of Vegas and becoming its dictator, to letting Mojave communities function independently and just using the Yes Man route to prevent any other faction from taking over, to anything in between.

Mr. House:

In terms of a faction that will let smaller Mojave settlements, along with Freeside and Westide be while having a vested interest in making sure Vegas keeps its sovereignty, House is the best for the long-term in my opinion. His focus is very singular, on the Strip mainly. His eviction of The Kings and other tribes which form Freeside is the only crime of note Mr. House is responsible and even then it allows said factions to function independent of House since he really couldn't care less about them. With the courier's help in securing better resources (diverting energy to it from Helios One, and letting the water from Sharecropper farms being used in Westside rather than by the NCR) and evicting the NCR (who stole much of the resources otherwise used by locals and consistently combatted with locals, so with them gone Freeside and Westside both have enough resources and fewer enemies to challenge their sovereignty) House's continued jurisdiction over The Strip doesn't cause any further harm to these communities than the initial eviction that formed them in the first place. Not at all a comparable evil to the literal ethnic cleansings performed by the NCR and The Legion. Also, House didn't set out to specifically evict anyone, just recruit whoever was willing to help renovate the Strip (whereas the NCR and Legion go out of their way to eradicate tribes they disagree with even when peaceful options are more than available) once he saw the NCR moving in to claim the damn. Before then, there was no need to do more than let Vegas' tribes be since there weren't factions threatening Vegas.

Fallout: New Vegas Official Game Guide Collector's Edition p.42: "Freeside" "Las Vegas wasn't heavily damaged during the Great War, but people didn't immediately "settle" into the remnants of the old city. The various Vault tribes that emerged years later, hunted and fought among the ruins, but it was not until the "return" of Mr. House that they ceased (most) of their hostilities. Mr House directed the tribes to use his sizable quantities of pre-war construction materials to build the crude (but effective) outer walls that separate The Strip and Freeside from the rest of New Vegas. While Mr. House valued the area around Fremont Street, he ultimately viewed it as secondary in importance to the Strip itself and he had a second, inner wall that separated the two areas. When NCR prospectors (and eventually the army) arrived in the region, people typically went straight for The Strip, leaving Freeside (as it had become known by locals) as an informal stopping point. Eventually Mr. House recognized that he could use Freeside as a filter for undesirables, and pulled his favored tribes and all Securitrons into the Strip, leaving Freeside to fend for itself." "In the two years that followed, Freeside has slowly degenerated into a hostile, lawless den of ne'er-do-wells. For a while, it was completely without order, but two power groups managed to come to an understanding about how the area needed to be maintained. The Kings, formed from the dispossessed remnants of unfortunate tribes, prevent all-out chaos from erupting, but do little to deal with the day-to-day nastiness that Freesiders inflict on each other. The Followers of the Apocalypse, no longer associated with the NCR, settled in the Old Mormon Fort. They receive some protection from the Kings in exchange for help with the community's basic needs (food, water, health services, and some education). Despite the oversight from the Kings and help from the Followers, the people in Freeside live in daily peril... from each other as well as outside forces."

I love The Kings and Freeside, so I know House's impersonal view of the eviction leaves out the harrowing impact of the displacement, but a. they literally only moved next door, and b. they get to do whatever they please, just outside The Strip. It wasn't great but it isn't exactly Bitter Springs or Nipton now is it? The NCR and Legion repeatedly lay waste to peaceful settlements / settlements of enemies to these factions that were otherwise peaceful. *Also, Yes Man seems overly eager to see-through the genocide of The Khans, which is partly why I don't trust him as much as House. It's also why I find it funny when people act like Yes Man is super progressive and chill when he literally just wants to be able to say no and copes through passive-aggression.* Freeside and Vegas more generally was a place genuinely riddled with murder and violence long before he decided to seperate The Strip and Freeside. He's neglectful of Freeside which left what tribes cared enough to band together and pick up the pieces such as The Kings. But as I say, that can become an asset compared to the disruptive oversight the NCR would pose. Letting Freeside be now that some degree of community solidarity has developed may be better than if House decided to extend his control into Freeside as well.

With the way The Strip is run, and the fact that House has ambitions to help advance the existing means of New Vegas alone (education, research, etc.) to thrive, rather than ambitions of territorial expansion which would soon become unmanageable. Using The Strip to extract wealth and resources from tribes and factions that come from outside the Mojave to fund Vegas' maintenance, while the day-to-day needs of food, water and such are already handled by the existing communities in the area, allowing House to focus specifically on making sure no other faction overruns these communities and running The Strip.

Basically, him being content to live and let live (except The Brotherhood - RIP) and demonstrating intent and capability to hold down the fort in Vegas frees up the courier to run the rest of the Mojave / let the Mojave communities operate separately from House. Only taking action when it seems necessary, since he seemed content to stay dormant until the NCR posed a threat. He is no more a control-freak than the NCR or The Legion, and does much less damage with that control quite frankly. Being practically immortal, I trust House more than Yes Man to maintain the anarchy my courier strives for even after the courier's death.

Edit: I had completely forgotten that House kills The Kings regardless of the Courier's actions if you side with him. I love The Kings, but enough of a community exists in Freeside and Westside that the Courier helps both enough before the ending for their loss to not be too big a detriment to the rest of the community, though I personally don't see why tf he should get rid of them like wtf???

[courier-sux]

what did you guys choose for hard luck blues? honestly, out of all the choices i’ve made in fallout games, its one of the ones i keep coming back to

[eattheglowingmoss]

For the ask meme, 2, 11, 19, 20

For Ame :)

(From @sarsparilla-stars )

Oh, I am so excited to answer all of these. This is actually the first ask I've ever gotten about Ame, so I'm more than happy to answer it all! You're about to get so much info dumping. Thanks so much!!

2.) What are their S.P.E.C.I.A.L stats?

These will be a little wonky, since I'm going off of his current in-game scores (Right now he's about level 13). But these are about accurate for how I imagine him.

STR - 5 PER - 7 END - 5 CHA - 8 INT - 3 AGL - 5 LCK - 10

He's might not have the brains for it, but he sure has the spirit.

11.) What weapon type do they prefer? (Ballistic, Energy, Radiation, Melee, ect.)

Ame’s all about luck – but his eyes aren’t too bad, either! Most of my characters are melee builds (Bog and Alec are melee, Artie is unarmed, and Jester is melee/explosives), but he’s all about ballistics. Specifically, he goes between a sniper rifle and hunting rifle.

There was actually a short stint where he worked with the NCR as a sharpshooter to help with protecting his family’s farm, which was on Sharecropper land. That’s where he got his rifle and his beret! Though that was pretty early on, and he found caravanning and courier work was more suited to him.

At the time joining up on the force was one of the few ways he could convince the NCR to let him keep a gun in his hands while on their land. Downside being that there was no chance they'd let him get away with the long hair he'd sported up to that point. He and the Brahmins-eye "Battalion" were really just a bunch of farm kids just trying to pick up where the regular NCR folks weren't doing their jobs. (And, most importantly, keeping the gecko population under control.)

Nowadays he doesn't put much thought into what Meg and Duke are getting up to. They've probably moved up in the NCR ranks and gotten on with First Recon or something like that.

Though? He swears... just swears one of those NCR soldiers he saw in Nipton looked familiar. But he doesn't really want to know the answer to that question considering what happened.

19.) How do they feel about robots? (May include synths if they know about them)

Some of Ame’s best friends have off switches! (or something like that.) After Victor found him outside Nipton and dragged his sorry hide out of that hellhole, he can’t see much of a difference between them and regular folk anymore. Even if there is a difference, he doesn’t have the slightest clue over how they work. So he treats them all nice just in case they end up being more man than machine. I mean, it’s only polite.

On another note, he doesn’t know a thing about synths, and if you tried to explain it him, he’d probably think you’re lying (but still sort of half-believe you all the same). In the event its proven to him? Same as above.

(This isn't new art, but it's fitting for the answer. So I'll attach it anyway!)

20.) If they magically found themselves in another universe (ex. Skyrim, Pokemon) what would happen? (This one’s a wild card question - dealer’s choice)

Hi you’re about to get a stupidly specific answer because my other game obsession right now has been, of all things, Castlevania. (Also, I just wanted an excuse to draw in the show’s art style again. It’s FUNKY)

I’m taking this as “He’s just a character in the universe” (Since I think if he were going Fallout -> Castlevania he’d probably just die. Emotionally, and probably literally. Sniper rifle ≠ crossbow).

I think Ame would’ve ended up in the local guard of some little town who accidentally got all wrapped up in the monster hunting shenanigans of the Belmont/Morris clans. All the dialogue about him would have the vague tone of – “He’s not the sharpest dagger, but a dull blade in our enemies’ back is better than a dull one in ours.”

Also he and the Morris’ would get along great. A whole bunch of himbo Americans telling Dracula to eat it? They’d love each other.

(This is about as far as I got before my hand started cramping. But you can BET I'm finishing this eventually. I need to get the burn scars on his cheek at least)

[spakonarchive]

For the last while there hadn’t been any companionship -- it was nice to travel with company from time to time, but Six really hadn’t been in the mood to do so after coming back to the Lucky 38 one day only to find it missing someone. No word to where he went, no sign he planned on coming back. Rejection stung badly, and the courier knew she wasn’t at her best while she was still nursing a bruised ego. That meant no Lily, no Arcade -- not that she’d want to bring them along as she helped out the NCR soldiers with their sharecropper farms and visited their camps to help in the war effort. Only vague memories of a night together remained, and as bad as her memory could be, it bothered her that she couldn’t forget it.

Nobody’s gonna love you, baby. They’ll use you cause you let ‘em.

The NCR had a new task for her -- something a little different than hands on help. They’d managed to catch a Legion soldier alive. Interrogations weren’t going well -- she was garrulous and personable. Maybe she’d find the crack in his armor that would finally make him talk; threats of physical violence weren’t all too effective. If Six was open with anyone, it was the first conversation she’d had in weeks that lasted longer than five minutes. She was lonely.

It was pathetic, finding comforting in finally talking to someone who had only insults and threats to spew at her, but at least she got the information. Six returned to the holding cells to look for the Lieutenant to relay all their prisoner had spilled in his angry tirade. The room was empty, save for one person in the cell. The surprise on her face lasted only a moment before shifting into a slight frown full of reproach.

“Well howdy,” she chimed, her arms coming to cross over her chest as she regarded the Devil from inside his cell. For a moment she considered quipping about his change in suite, or something equally bitey, but it wasn’t kind, and so she opted to say nothing at all, “You see miss Boyd recently? I got some important news for her.”     /     @luciferian-drama

[meadowlarksabove]

Paukka had a talent for dancing around his questions, paddling forward without ever coming to an answer, stalling, obfuscating, and tipping his focus until he was forced to trudge along. Any interrogator would have given up with a subject like that. But in the soft lighting of their kitchen, surrounded by leagues of quiet wasteland, he found that quality far more charming than frustrating. They were wholly unspoilt. A wall left standing in spite of the wear and tear of time. 

He washed his hands as the other pieced together a menu, and beamed a smile over his shoulder once they graced him with a bit of praise. “Thank you! Though don’t go spoiling me too much or I’ll get used to it.” 

In spite of its rough edges and worn-down facades, the farm seemed well stocked and even better equipped, and that was something he couldn’t possibly overlook. He’d seen enough profligate farmers tilling the land to know they could scarcely feed themselves by the end of each season, ultimately forced to abandon their homes and work for the NCR in their sharecropper fields. A sad state of affairs all around, and though he only had his suspicions to go on, he wasn’t sure the displacement of these people was entirely coincidental. As for Arizona, while the grain production had increased since the scarcities of his childhood, there were plenty of weak points still left to address which the war had only aggravated. Life was hard all across the West, and food supplies were always the first to plummet in a state of emergency. That Paukka owned a working generator and chilled his own meats naturally came as a shock then. He wondered again how this all came to be, trying, and failing, to imagine the hands which built this house. 

The frumentarius followed their eyes towards the stove, dark and ominous to his sensibilities. He was familiar with stone ovens, earthen pans and meats roasted over an open fire. Though he’d seen these things used in the Mojave, he’d never touched the blackened metal for himself and was hard pressed to start. But his gaze wandered back to Paukka, his expression softening to something apologetic, sheepish almost. “Actually, I don’t.” 

It felt as if he’d compromised his position in some way, revealing a weakness he’d never considered to be so important. To say no, to admit defeat was cause for shame where he’d come from, and if this had been Vulpes, he would have toiled to learn the contraption by himself no matter the risks involved. But this wasn’t the Fort, he wasn’t at the beck and call of mongrels, he was there with an outsider– and safer for it. 

The light in his grin had dimmed slightly and embarrassment colored his face. “I promise you’ll only have to teach me this once.”

Standing between kitchen table and counter, looking a little lost almost, half between sitting down on one of the few chairs to just watch what Gabban would do from his position and half getting ready to help out cooking Paukka eventually began slowly rolling up the sleeves of the tan long short worn underneath his suspenders (sleeve buttons long gone and lost to the tooth of time). The question added to his pondering and the silence coming from him lasted a little longer while he recalled stock and supplies that he still had while simultaneously hesitating to admit that he, perhaps, did not eat as much as he made time to drink.

            „There is meat in the freezer. The generator did not die once the past couple of days so it should still be good.“ His gaze wandered the direction of a doorframe to the side where a small room (a space, rather) had been repurposed into a pantry, with an old freezer standing against the back wall and a couple of wall shelves and wooden crates meant to hold dried goods and some appliances.

Paukka knew he had kind of avoided the actual question, the reason why his gaze was traveling there rather than locking with the man that had asked him. „We could make a salad with it. You worked well, so you deserve to eat well too.“ If he recalled correctly there should even still be some pinyon nuts left in one of the jars. A treat that was not easy to get and he always felt like he had to keep it for a deserving occasion. Which was now.

His head turned and those deep brown eyes landed on Gabban again, examining him for a second before his eyes landed on the wood-burning iron stove which remained seated between two separate countertops, right against the middle of the wall. From it to the offset black pipe that reached all the way up to the ceiling before disappearing through a hole in the upper floor boards where it almost perfectly fit through. While not needing electricity to make a fire, the rising smoke leaving the chimney could well draw unwanted guest's attention. If anyone found themselves lost this far and this deep into mountain terrain. Even if, the dim light leaving through the old glass windows called for more attention than smoke would in the progressing night.

            „I say you start the fire. I get the meat. Only one of the sliding doors is working and it is a little... tricky to get it open.“ Another of the many things that needed fixing that he had not managed to get to yet. „You have lit a fire in a stove before?“ His eyes returning to Gabban with a subtly (for him expressive and genuine) questioning look now the taller of the two seemed expectant to know, willing to show him if he would say no.

[sleepysailorghost]

There are a lot of reasons why it's better for Boone to walk behind the Courier.

Tactically, it doesn't hurt. He's trained as a sniper, and ED-E alerts them of any dangers ahead of them. The Courier can dispatch any enemies with their six guns, plasma rifle, or cowboy repeater. What they don't take down, he takes out with his rifle.

At least part of it is an attempt to assuage the guilt he feels. He had seen the Courier injured before, but he didn't think he would have to see them nearly die. In hindsight, he probably should have-he was cursed, after all.

The Courier had told him he wasn't cursed. That no one was punishing him. He didn't know if he believed that yet.

He didn't hear anything when the Courier had slipped down the cliff. He agonized over that day-wondering if he had heard something and just ignored it. A shuffling of rocks, a scream or shout. But there had been nothing.

He had just kept walking, the Courier's chirping little robot at his side. Even he didn't know when he had noticed the Courier's absence.

When he had finally found them, it had nearly been too late. All his field medical training seemed to go out the window when he saw the Courier laying broken in the ravine. He had used so many stimpacks on them, they nearly died of stim sickness.

But they didn't. Hard to kill, or something. He tried to pull away after that, tried to piss off the Courier so they'd hate him.

They didn't hate him.

Maybe they just didn't know how.

The Courier drags him all over the Mojave and he follows and watches their back.

He doesn't know how that became how he feels now. He's never been good with emotions anyway.

It isn't something he knows how to handle, so he decides to ignore it. He doesn't want it. The Courier is his friend, not Carla. And for him, it was only ever Carla.

Watching the Courier's back desn't keep them from being taken from him, not any more than it prevents them from getting into trouble. He was behind them when they were knocked out and taken away.

But he was there when they returned and he helped them put their peices back together. It would be easier to just let both of them fall apart. It would be easier to deprieve themselves simply because it's too much work to do anything else. Too much work to eat or drink.

Instead, he makes an effort. It isn't easy, but he isn't alone. In time, they grow to being two individuals who want to live. They always were a bunch of problem solvers.

Once, after he and Arcade had convinced the Courier it was safe to rest for a time, Arcade had said something to him.

"It's rotten work, taking care of them."

"Not if it's them. Not to me."

Arcade smirked at them like he had won something in this exchange. Boone ignored him. Whatever Arcade thought that admission-that he cared about the Courier-proved meant nothing.

He was just trying to keep his friend alive.

The Courier has gone to meet someone from their past. They've gone somewhere he can not follow, just as they had been kidnapped away to the Sierra Madre, abducted to the Big MT. Only, this time he's chosen not to follow.

Whatever the Courier finds-if it ends up being the home they had forgotten-he'd rather they didn't have to worry about him.

When the Courier does return, they run to him and grab him in a hug faster than he can react. They burrow into his chest in a way that would have been intrusive if it was anyone but them.

"I misssed you!" they mumble into his armor. "You won't believe-"

But before they can finish, their little robot is beeping so frantically to get their attention. The Courier's arms drop and they take a step back from him, seemingly embarrassed by their affections.

As the Courier and ED-E engage in a conversation Boone can only half understand, he looks out into the desert to compose himself. That's when he sees it first. A glint of something out in the sands.

Initially, he has no idea what it could be. His eyesight's sharp, but not that sharp. It doesn't look like Legion, so he doesn't shoot it.

The Courier is so proud of their new name. It's taken from an Old World battle, and someone had given it to them.

Boone thinks its a mouthful. It takes some time for him to adjust. He had been so used to refering to them as Six or just Courier. Eventually, he decides to just shorten it to Tie.

It's not because he's stupid, no matter what Arcade says. Antietam just takes too long to say.

The name wasn't the only thing Tie had brought back with them. Their bounty-hunter attire is retired in favor of a blue duster with an Old World flag on the back. It certainly makes them stand out against the Mojave.

The Glint he had sighted back in Novac didn't disappear. It followed them. Boone is fairly certain it's a person, but he can't gage their intent or why they are following them. He's fairly certain it's non-hostile-they had plenty of opportunities to kill both of them.

New Vegas looms large in front of them. There's business to be settled here, he knows, but it isn't his.

Instead of tracking down the man who stole their life and shot them in the head, Tie seems happy enough to serve as errand runner for Freeside.

Maybe that's why they had originally became a courier. The reason why doesn't matter much to them any more.

No matter how silly or monotonous a job seems, Tie is willing to complete it. They do a day's work for the Van Graff's and Boone can't help but stand a little closer to them after the attempted bombing.

The King certainly appreciates their work. He tells them as much, bringing Antietam to his room to discuss some task or another The King sent them out on.

He sits down on his stupid bed-what kind of a bed is that-and insists the Courier do the same. Boone stays standing, frowning a mile a minute.

"Darlin', could ya ask your soldier boy to wait outside a minute? I think we oughta have a discussion without an audience."

Boone has seen Antietam face hoards of Legion assassains without fear. He's seen them struggle to recover after whatever they saw in the Sierra Madre. Right now, he doesn't think that they want to be left alone with The King.

"Body guards work better if they're in the same room." Boone says, and leaves it at that.

"I guess, if the Courier trust ya that's enough for me." The King looks him sharply in the eye.

"Thank you." Tie says, but Boone knows that was for him. If his blood wasn't full of rage, he might be smilling right now.

When they return to their room at the Wrangler-not without Beautrice and Old Ben trying to offer their services to Antietam-the Courier says "You're not a body guard. You know that, right?"

"You didn't want to be alone with him." Boone says in response.

"T-That's not-I didn't want to be seperated from you."

"Huh."

And then they pretend that conversation didn't happen. They go to sleep, and their room at the Wrangler only has the one bed. It's not all that awkward, and Boone was just thankful that Tie wanted to sleep. in the morning, they get up and head off on some other grand adventure.

This time, it's investigating what's wrong with the water at the NCR Sharecropper farms. The Glint darts closer to them than it normally strays.

Close enough for Boone to get a decent look at it. It's a man. He moves a little like a Legion man, but he doesn't look like one of Caesar's. His duster is the same as the one Tie brought back back from the Divide.

Tie never had told him too much about the Divide. He sort of expected that. They didn't speak about the Sierra Madre or the Big MT, or even about their trip to Zion unless he asked.

Small talk has never been his strong suit. Arcade, the nosy guy, would be much better at getting this sort of stuff from them.

"Your duster's new." He says casually.

"Yeah. Ulysses gave it to me." They respond.

"Ulysses...What's that guy like?" He asks.

Antietam thought for a moment and then answered.

"He's the strongest man I've ever met. Eyes like a hawk, really skilled in hunting and tracking."

Boone hugged his riffle a little tighter. It was a massive weapon, one lovingly assembled by Tie. He puzzles over that, and then decides that was what he meant. Antietam had lovingly assembled the Anti-Material Rifle for him, handing over dozens of caps to the Gun Runners for peices and parts for it. Any time he started to run low on ammo, Tie handed him another box of .50. They didn't have to, but he always appreciated it.

"Huh." Strongest man they've ever met, huh? An incrediably stupid idea forms in his head. "Hey, Tie, do you think I can carry you?"

"W-What? Don't be stupid-I'm carrying a bunch of gear right now."

"I could do it. Who do you think carried you out of the ravine?" He answered defensively.

"I'm not saying you couldn't do it. I'm saying you shouldn't." Tie settled their beret, and then fixed their pin in their hair. It glinted a little in the sun. "Who are you trying to show off for? There's no one around."

They were heading into a vault. Boone hated vaults.

Dwellers themselves were alright, but if there was a vault where people worked together and Vault-Tec didn't shoot them in the foot by drugging them or something, it wasn't in the Mojave. Boone still thought about the spore-creatures.

This vault isn't any different from other vaults. It's partially flooded, and Tie's geiger counter keeps on beeping.

"Alrright, I'm going to dive down now." Tie says as they stand over a flooded section of the vault. They loved water, always seemed so transfixed and mystified by large bodies of water. Only, they didn't seem to like being in the water all that much. Boone had asked once, and the Courier had just said "Have you ever been buried alive?" and left it at that.

Antietam is not very good at swimming. It's not all that surprising-most bodies of water are too tainted for swimming.

They strip down to their underclothes, all lanky limbs and scars on show. Handing their beret and duster to Boone and removing their boots, they strap on their rebreather. The spurrs of their boots clack against the ground as they wade into the flooded chamber.

He hates waiting for the Courier to reemerge. Anything could go wrong and they would be unable to defend themselves. Eyes on the water, watching for any disturbance, he thinks about something else.

He hasn't seen The Glint since they entered the Vault. Maybe it didn't follow them down here. He'll bring it up when the Courier resurfaces. It should be any second now, but that doesn't stiffle the feeling that they've been down there too long.

Shit. Maybe they ran into an issue with their rebreather. He knew that was a peice of junk. He drops TIe's clothing and is frantically taking off his boots when the Courier rises from the water.

"Christ, Tie. Don't scare me like that."

Antietam drops a handful of ammo on the vault flooring.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to. I found a lock box at the bottom, but I knew I couldn't get it back up to the surface so I popped the lock. " The Courier wrings a little water out of their hair. "Should have done this part last, huh? I'm soaked through."

It's when they leave Vault 34, sick with rads, that he brings up The Glint. He's looking directly at The Glint.

"Do you see that? Do you ever feel like something is watching you?"

"Yeah? I got you, don't I?"

"That's not what I meant."

As Arcade treats their radiation sickness, Boone watches for The Glint.

It was better if he did this alone, he reasoned. He felt uneasy leaving the Courier, especially while they were sleeping, but he knew that there was little threat of anything getting into their room at the Wrangler.

He was facing the real threat: whoever was following them. That, and however sore Tie was going to be if they woke up and found him missing.

The Glint was on the roof of a building adjacent to the Wrangler. His focus on his quarry is stedfast. The Glint doesn't move.

The Glint turns out to be a man, as he had thought. The man isn't anyone he recognizes, but he recognizes the duster the man is shrouded in.

This must be Ulysses, he thinks, although his evidence is shallow at best. Ulysses-if this is him-is sleeping with a hunter's awareness. The Mojave night is warm, and Boone walks away from that roof.

He isn't sneaking. If the man wakes, he wakes. He's fairly sure that Ulysses is no enemy of the Courier, not with how fondly they had spoke of him.

A few days later, the Courier leaves without warning. Leaves of their own volition-not abducted-this time. Comes back in an Old World suit, eyes red from crying. Before he or Arcade could ask what's wrong or why they left, Antietam is pulling the researcher into a hug, muttering some story.

Arcade removes the Courier, holding them at arm's length.

"Hold on, I can't understand you when you're muttering like that. You did what?"

The Courier can't meet Arcade's eyes and is definitely avoiding Boone's gaze.

"I said, I went to go settle things with Benny."

"Ah, yes. The man who shot you in the head. Well, he doesn't appear to have finished the job. You aren't hurt, right?"

"No, it didn't come to that. I'm alright." They find something fascinating in the dirt of their nails. "Reputation might have taken a hit though."

"What did you do, Antietam?" Arcade was something like the Courier's brother, and he often had reason to be concerned for them.

"Tried to seduce Benny."

Arcade looks at Antietam for a second, like he's sure he's heard wrong.

"Sorry, run that by me again?"

"I tried to seduce Benny."

Arcade inhales deeply, and then sighs. He rakes a hand over his face.

"Why? Where did you even get that idea?"

"I thought it was the best way to get him alone! I wasn't going to do anything!" They still aren't looking Arcade in the eye-too afraid to see disappointment. "It didn't work anyway."

"What were you going to do? Talk to him? He tried to kill you!" Arcade says. And then he snaps. "It's your life anyway. Just don't come crying to me when you make a mess of it. Although it seems you already have."

Boone does not say anything. He just doesn't know what to say. This was not a situation he had ever anticipated. He's mainly just shocked by the Courier's actions, and by the blinding fury of his own jealousy. That's probably a thread, but he's doing his best to not pull at it.

"Arcade.." Antietam tries, but Arcade responds with a quick. "Just go to bed, Courier. We'll talk in the morning."

Dejectedly, the Courier climbs into the Wrangler's lone bed and tries to sleep.

"Trying to seduce the man who shot them in the head. What will they think of next?" Arcade mutters , more to himself than to Boone. "It's late. You can take the floor."

In the morning, Antietam wakes up in bed with their brother and their fight the prior evening seems less severe. They get up, get dressed and head over to Mick and Ralph's for odds and ends. New Vegas was a grand place, sure, but it wasn't somewhere Antietam could live. All the lights hurt their head, for one.

Another gift from Benny, packaged in lead wrapping paper. As the Courier steps out they are accosted by Vulpes Inculta. He isn't dressed as he was as a Nipton, but the Courier's reflexes take over and they draw their sixgun.

"Patience, Courier." He says, and then bestows the Mark of Caesar upon them. Antietam instantly feels worse for it, craving a bath if only to wash this man off of them.

The Wrangler doesn't have such amenities, but it does have Boone and Arcade. Two of their favorite people, and the support Antietam happens to need at the moment.

Already, a plan is forming in their head. Barely a step outside of the Wrangler, blood pooling at their feet, they turn and reenter the building.

James Garret tries to get their attention-maybe for work, maybe because he heard of Benny's rejection. It doesn't matter to them at the moment. With the mark burning a hole in their hand, they climb the stairs to their room.

"Antietam, your hands are looking rather empty. Did you forget your caps or something?" Arcade says, smiling at the Courier.

Antietam doesn't say anything, walking up to the table and dropping the medallion. Arcade examines it, eyes wide.

"I got the Mark of Caesar."

"How? Why?"

"They just gave it to me because they're impressed with my work."

"You have killed a fair number of their men."

"Yeah, we're a bunch of problem solvers."Boone chimes in.

"Yeah, we are. Anyway, that's not all. They invited me up there-to their fortress-so I can meet with Caesar." Antietam was smirking. Pointing a finger at Boone, they asked him. "Say, what do you think about wiping out the Legion's Fort, huh?"

"I'd say we're outnumbered." Boone responded, a grin growing on his face despite their very apparent outnumberedness.

"But we've got the element of surprise?"

"Sure, we'd have to be something awfully stupid to try and attack the fort with three men." Arcade added.

"We can probably stop by McCarran on the way, see if Col. Hsu can spare any men for the attack. First recon hasn't left for Forlorn Hope yet, yeah?"

"You head out to McCarran and they'll keep you there all day. "

"I can run errands for Hsu if it gets us men." Antietam responded. "I took care of their messenger, so we should be have some time."

The Courier stretched, and then got to work preparing for their trek across the Mojave and their upcoming battle with the Legion.

It was stupid, and he had a million other things to do, but Boone had an idea. He looked over at Antietam, who was currently comparing different side arms. They put Cram-Opener to the side. Really, they weren't much of a melee or unnarmed fighter, but Little Buster had been something like a friend to the Courier.

"Tie?" He asked, and they looked over at him, putting down their weapons. "Remember how I said I could pick you up?"

"Yeah, but I-"

"You aren't carrying any gear right now." He stepped forward, pulled his friend into a secure hold. It wasn't all that difficult, even if he and Antietam were about the same height. "Told you I could do it."

"Yes, you're looking exceptionally virile." Arcade said, narrowing his eyes at the duo. "Put Antietam down so they can get packed."

Boone rolled his eyes, but put Antietam down.

It was a fast enough walk to Camp McCarran. Hsu, for once, didn't have a grocer's list of errands for them. He was mostly surprised to see them.

Antietam explained their situation and their plan to attack the fort.

"The mark of Caesar? You never cease to surprise, Courier." Col. Hsu never referred to the Courier by name. For what reason, Boone didn't know and didn't really care. "Regardless, we can't spare the men. We just diverted some of our forces to Bittersprings, and the First Recon left for Camp Forlorn Hope this morning. Even if we could, we shouldn't place military troops in the hands of a civilian."

The Courier had fought and seized Nelson from the Legion. Had the NCR forgotten that? But the Courier bites their tongue.

"Yes, I suppose that would be the case. I guess we'll have to take care of Caesar ourselves, huh? Alright, I'll be back to collect the bounty on that-there is a bounty, right?"

"I'm sure we can rustle up something." Hsu said, although it was evident from his tone that he did not think he would see the Courier again. "Goodbye, Courier. Thank you for everything."

"So that was a bust." Arcade said as they exited McCarran.

"It was a long shot anyway. Couple of hours walk to the fort." Antietam said, settling their bag on their shoulder. They had dressed for a fight, assassain suit concealed by their duster, beret on their head, and Arcade's pin in their hair. "Yeah, I recon it's probably about several hundred men against the three of us. Uh, that's the thing. Y'all don't have to go with me. It's likely that we would die or worse and I-"

"And what, leave you to take on the Legion by yourself? I'm going with you, and if we go down, we'll take as many of them with us as we can." Boone said. In a quieter voice, he added "And if you get captured..."

His voice trailed off, but they both knew. Arcade was walking ahead of them a little. Antietam nodded, a consent to things that were too awful to say aloud.

"I'll do the same for you." Either that, or die fighting like hell to get him out. "It might not come to a direct confrontation. I've got a couple packs of C4. Could lay those around the camp, set 'em off. I have some stealth-boys too, if you wanna try that."

"How much?"

"A dozen packs of C4, and 4 stealthboys. Not exactly a surplus. Could stop and get mines too. Didn't think to bring any."

As they walked, he scanned the horizon, looking for any sign of trouble. He knew Ulysses was following them, but he didn't anticipate any fight with him.

All the confusion and jealousy of the prior night had been forgotten in the wake of the Courier's plan to attack the Fort. It certainly had been a wild day.

They reach the Fort via the Cottonwood Cove waterway. Arcade elects to stay behind at the Cove and to send reinforcements if they don't return in time.

But miraculously, they survive. Caesar is dead, and the Courier is victorious. It's almost certainly the heat of the battle getting to his head, but Boone wants to kiss Antietam. Badly.

He settles for picking the Courier up and spinning around. They're both laughing, a rich thing in the air between them, half drunk on victory.

Someone's voice cuts through their reverie.

"Say, wouldn't you let a guy loose, baby? At least before you start macking on each other?"

Shit, had they forgotten someone? He thought they had cleared the camp. Weapons drawn, they quickly find the speaker. It's a man in a checkered suit.

"Oh, if it isn't my baby! Come to rescue me, huh?" Despite the heavy bruising on his face, he smirks and it's almost half charming. "Told them you'd come for me. Just couldn't get enough of me?"

"I didn't know you had left Vegas." Tie says quickly, shutting him down. The man's face fell.

"So what was all that then? Business as usual?"

"Just about, yeah."

"Tie, you know this man?" Boone asked.

"Not really. This is Benny, y'know the one who shot me in the head. What are you doing here, actually?"'

"You gonna untie me if I tell you? What kind of a name is Tie anyway?"

"A good one." They said, feeling their energy level begin to wane as they spoke with Benny. They just didn't make guides on how to speak with your would-be murderer who you tried and failed to seduce. "I'll think about it. Why are you here?"

"Those bullets must have scrambled your egg pretty good." Benny said. "What's it look like? I got captured sneaking into the fort."

"You want me to take care of this guy for you?" Boone said.

"No?"

"Oh, come on, baby! You can't still be sore at me."

"Where's the platinum chip?"

"Caesar's got it. Or had it, considering he's probably worm food now. Baby, you don't know what-"

"Stop calling Tie your baby." Boone snapped.

"Bye, Benny." Antietam pulled a switchblade from their pocket and slashed his restraints.

"You're letting him go?"

"I don't care any more. Let's get the chip and loot and then head back to McCarran."

"What kind of bounty do you think Hsu rustled up?"

"None, probably. Still, we killed Caesar. Won't end the Legion, but it's a blow for sure."

"Sounds like what Ulysses would say. C'mon, let's get back to Arcade before he calls for the cavalry."

ED-E beeped cheerfully, and Boone smiled a little. Just a little.

As they walked through the river, Antietam stopped and then wrapped their arms around him.

"Thanks. For everything, y'know?"

"Yeah, sure, Tie."

Wounded and tired, they made their way back.

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

six +/- one sentence sunday

hey remember how the ncr sharecropper farms aren’t doing very well? seems like that should have more of an effect in-game

-

The street vendor handed Blondie a sad little burrito, one-quarter meat and three-quarters tortilla. “There’s a greens shortage, we ran out an hour after we opened! Honestly, what’s the point of being an exclusive producer if you can’t even fulfill your contracts- yes?”

She was on to the next customer before he could ask why the burrito was the same price as always.

[twosides--samecoin]

No one disagrees about the Raider's actions being right or wrong, I'm not saying their desire to survive makes them less responsible for their actions.

I'm responding to you asking about a humanized take on the Raiders and wanting to be proven wrong about them. If you want a humanized take, it does mean assuming their reasons and nuance behind their actions matter and in order to understand them, we set the morality aside for a moment to examine what makes someone overstep the boundaries of right and wrong. What do you do when the people who have chosen the hard and virtuous path have left you to the side? It is realistic to turn to Raiding in this universe.

What they're willing to do in order to survive doesn't fall flat in this universe. It is a realistic response, and one to expect if we're to go by other post apocalyptic media. Yes what they do is wrong. Yes there are ways not to be a Raider in this universe. Here's a bit of missing context, to that point - not everyone has the skills to be a farmer. Not everyone has the ability to say, survive in the woods.

There does exist mining [Fallout 76 is based in the history of WVA and mining plays a huge role] and smelting [Saugus Ironworks in F4; if we are to take the settlement building system seriously it does mean assuming some form of mining, smelting and woodworking existing in order to do those things], there's large scale farming operations [NCR Sharecropper Farms in FNV; there is hydroponics in Fallout 1] as well. Are these things available to learn if you go to the right people: sure. Hell if we are talking about reinventing wheels or at least using them we know there's caravan systems being used. Civilization is a thing that's being rebuilt, however..

..there's a difference between being shown the skills to survive and coming from a background where you don't have those skills. In Fallout 76 as an example, it is set only 25 years after the bombs. Raiders before the bombs were rich tourists who didn't have agricultural or survival skills. Being cunning people willing to lie, bully and steal their way to the top came to them first. And so when food sources ran out, they knew they had to steal because, well, you can plant a seed today but it won't feed you for another 6 months. So you steal, regardless of if it is right or wrong. Is there a way to live that's not Raiding? Yes. But think of it like crime in our modern day. There's ways of living that don't involve crime. However people turn to it. Their reasons, context and nuance matter.

No one is saying what they are doing is right - but if you want to understand and gain a humanizing take on them, looking at right or wrong or what's deserving of punishment isn't the point.

@lynettethemadscientist There are some raider groups, like James Wire's former Minutemen, who are written in a way that's nuanced and humanizing, and there are some raider groups, like the Jackals in New Vegas or a lot of the random raiders in the East Coast games that don't get that treatment and are portrayed as flat, static villains. I prefer the former, and I would like to see more of that.

That said, I disagree that writing being realistic means that it must be good. It can be unrealistic and good; it can be realistic and bad. I never said simple motivations are unrealistic. Actually, I agreed that there are plenty of people who have no scruples against harming others for personal gain, but I think most people don't think of themselves as bad people. Most people find find ways to justify those actions, and when it comes to storytelling, those are the characters that I find more compelling.

As far as whether nuance matters in fiction... we're just going to fundamentally disagree. Stories, fictional or not, help us develop compassion, empathy, and emotional intelligence. What we learn from empathizing even with fictional characters we bring into our interactions in the real world. ( @shouldastayedcourier8 's points about how the portrayal of raiders ties into the war on drugs and society's views of addicts is relevant. The U.S. prison system is bloated with nonviolent drug offenders—would that change if our media didn't consistently reinforce the idea that addicts are dangerous/unprincipled?)

Even in the case of violent criminals, I think the reasons matter very much. How can we address the systemic issues that lead people into lives of crime if we refuse to acknowledge those causal relationships?

(At this point, I do want to make it clear that I responded initially intending to clarify my point of view for those who hadn't considered it, not to convince you specifically that I'm right. If you sincerely want to understand where I'm coming from, we can keep the discussion going, but otherwise, we'll just have to disagree.)

[tread-the-bear]

@betterhealing​.

Boone preferred the open air of the community just outside the gates of New Vegas; not just because it was easier to take shots at Fiends from a distance, but that definitely had something to do with it. 

​No shooting today, though; the King had now been the third person to suggest somebody take a look at the rusted water pipes leading to and from the NCR sharecropper farms into Freeside. Evidently there were many parties who gave two shits about the water being clean, and it seemed Boone was happy to do the leg work.

Leg work, he assumed, because Arcade Gannon was a little more fit to do the thinking part. Either way, Boone was already hoisting a shovel as they got to the main valve, ready to start digging. 

“You gonna help dig for the pipe, or are you just here for emotional support.”

[princess-stabbity]

since i have NOTHING BUT TIME APPARENTLY i might as well babble abt that sims game

basically it’s a da-fnv au set in strangerville. as many da characters as i can ram into the pathetic number of lots maxis gave us, with a fuzzy backstory of the town being former legion territory taken over by the ncr (not in nv, up in southern co). some are ncr soldiers or sharecroppers, some are former legion (bull as an ex-frumentarius, fenris as an escaped slave turned package courier, etc). gonna use the clubs system to set up some as followers of the apocalypse (decided on wynne, merrill, amell; might also add dorian, dagna, and others). the dwarves are the inhabitants of the local vault, and they’ve allied with the dalish, local tribals whose aravels are camped around the entrance outside. the chargers are a gang somewhat in the vein of the kings. morrigan et al are also tribals, tho somewhat removed from the dalish. blackwall runs a motel that’s basically a small settlement unto itself, partly to atone for his past (thinking his backstory is probably smth a la boone). lots of fun new eco assets used; dirty generators polluting the shanty town, the dalish partnering with the dwarves to run their generators on bio-fuel from insect farms, the followers installing solar panels for people, etc etc

[blockwarden]

Civil Defense in the Fallout Series

For better or worse, nuclear warfare has dominated both the American psyche and American media since the dawn of the Cold War. From duck and cover drills to War Games, to fallout shelters and The Day After, we have long looked at the what-ifs of nuclear warfare with an almost violent curiosity—like a train wreck or a plane crash, we simply cannot look away. Although the threat of nuclear war and mutually-assured destruction no longer looms like the spectre of death over our shoulders, we still find ourselves fascinated by it, and our media reflects this. An almost infinite number of books, television shows, movies, and video games have been dedicated, in some part, to the prospect or aftermath of nuclear warfare. Video games especially being a relatively new, mostly immersive medium, have taken the theme of nuclear warfare and ran with it, including Metro 2033, S.T.A.L.K.E.R., DEFCON, Civilization V, Call of Duty, Metal Gear Solid, and Ace Combat Zero, to name just a very small number of them. But no game series is more synonymous with nuclear warfare as the Fallout series.

Although I could personally talk about the Fallout universe, the history, the sociopolitical setting, and the Great War itself for hours on end, the gist of the series is that in a retro-futuristic, alternate timeline world, on October 23, 2077, “Red China,” the Soviet Union, and the United States finally pulled the trigger and engaged in a full-on nuclear war, with bombs falling on most U.S. cities, including Las Vegas, Boston, New York City, Los Angeles, Philadelphia, and Washington D.C. The war itself lasted only two hours, but more energy was released in the first moments of the Great War than all the previous human conflicts combined. Entire mountain ranges were created by the sheer tectonic stress caused by the bombs, and the oceans and rivers of the world were contaminated irreversibly by the “relatively low-yield” warheads. In short, the Fallout series is a (somewhat exaggerated) look at the realities of mutually-assured destruction, and a clear representation of all our nuclear fears.

But how realistic is this? How likely is it that if something like the Great War were to happen today would our land and water still be unusable 200 years in the future? In discussing this, we need to first look at the preventative measures taken in the Fallout universe. And this starts with civil defense.

Not much Fallout canon is dedicated to civil defense. Although there are posters from the “Civil Defense Administration” found in-game, most preventative measures in the Fallout series come from Vault-Tec and their vaults. But these vaults were sociological experiments disguised as fallout shelters, and ultimately, Vault-Tec was not actually concerned with the preservation and continuation of the United States post-war. Some vaults were rigged with poisonous gases, some had purposefully faulty blast doors, and some were simply absurd (such as Vault 77, which was populated by 999 puppets and one man.) Since we can’t consider Vault-Tec an agent of emergency preparedness or disaster response, we must turn back towards the aforementioned Civil Defense Administration.

We know from in-game dialogue, terminals, notes, holotapes, and even character backstories that most people in 2077 were expecting a war any day. We can find personal basement shelters in bombed-out neighborhoods, Pulowski personal preservation shelters dotting street corners, and in the beginning of Fallout 4, as the bombs approach Boston, we can hear air raid sirens. We can find government bunkers like the South Boston military checkpoint and the Greenbrier Resort, and although not morally aligned to the concepts of American civil defense, some vaults did manage to provide safety for generations of dwellers. So, we know that some effort was made, and we can assume that these efforts were spear-headed by the Civil Defense Administration. But this is where the similarities between historical American civil defense and Fallout civil defense stop.

Walking around in a Fallout game, you encounter decimated homes and buildings, upturned roads, and irradiated water and soil. Skeletons litter the landscape. The few remaining buildings for the most part lack running water or electricity. There is no trash collection, there are no vehicles, there aren’t even any authorities outside of rag-tag militias capable of curbing the rampant crime across the wasteland. Doctors are few and far-between and mostly self-taught, and pockets of radioactive waste remain in open-air pits. If the Fallout series truly had a Civil Defense Administration, this dangerous, dirty, destroyed world would simply not exist.

Historically, civil defense has focused on both emergency preparedness and disaster response. The civil defense agencies of the United States were comprised of rescue squads, decontamination squads, demolition and clearance crew, auxiliary police officers, auxiliary firefighters, nurses, doctors, road repair crews, utility repair crews, drivers, messengers, radio operators, food and housing corps, chaplains, refuse collection crews, and even gravediggers—all who focused on disaster response and, more importantly, rebuilding. Civil defense was almost singularly-focused on the idea of rebuilding, of piecing the country back together after an emergency, of reestablishing normalcy as quickly as possible.

In Fallout, however, this doesn’t seem to be the case, except for a few exceptions. After the bombs fell, those remaining U.S. Armed Forces members tried their best to maintain order and control, but they quickly succumbed to the radiation and mobs. Then there were the Responders, seen in Fallout 76, who were an organization of police, firefighters, medics, and general volunteers that emerged in 2082 to provide medical assistance, supplies, and survival training to survivors. They were followed by Project Purity in Fallout 3, which was dedicated to decontaminating the water of the Washington D.C. area and providing potable water for survivors, although the project began in 2277, 200 years after the bombs fell. The last exception would be the Mojave Express, a courier service seen in Fallout: New Vegas in 2281. There is also the NCR Sharecropper Farm in Fallout: New Vegas, as well as a pastor in Diamond City in Fallout 4. But this is…it. There is no large-scale, nation-wide effort to rebuild. There are corpses and skeletons left where they fell, there are burnt-out cars left in the middle of the road, there are collapsed bridges and spewing pipelines and ponds so irradiated they’ve birthed new monstrosities like Swan in Fallout 4. There is no governing body, no faction that truly takes the reins, not even a surviving member of congress (technically, there was with the Enclave, but their motivations were selfish and generally fascist.) And this is anathema to the spirit of civil defense.

From a civil defense perspective, the Fallout series is almost insulting. It shows a total lack of law and order, a lack of neighborliness, a lack of effort to hold the world together. It shows tribe mentality, it shows the collapse of society, it shows the end of the world as we know it. This is not what civil defense, fictional or historical, would have strived for. It could be that, as we see in the case of Appalachia in Fallout 76, those who tried to rebuild were wiped out. It could be that, much like historic civil defense, it faced opposition in the form of apathy. Or it could simply be that a partially-recovered world is not nearly as compelling as a game as one where every water purification plant is overrun with Mirelurks and feral ghouls leap at you from the public library.

This is a sentiment echoed by many players of the two latest titles, Fallout 4 and Fallout 76. I’ll spare y’all the student game developer rants as much as possible here, but there’s a lot to be said, so hold on. Most players absolutely hated the settlement system in Fallout 4. They despised the Minutemen, Preston Garvey, and protecting innocent farmers from Raiders. They hated having to sacrifice rare parts like gears and screws to build defenses. They hated the radiant quests. In short, they hated rebuilding and recovering. This could be because Bethesda did a pretty ham-fisted job at motivating the player to recruit and rebuild settlements, or it could be because Bethesda kind of forgot that the Fallout series, since its infancy with Interplay, was meant to be post-post­-apocalyptic. It was meant to be a game about a half-restored world. One only needs to look at places like Vault City or Shady Sands or even the New Vegas strip to know this. These were settlements that had rebuilt and moved on from the Great War. Bethesda has effectively abandoned this since acquiring the series, choosing instead to feature wastelands over burgeoning towns. So, while Diamond City and Bunker Hill might have running water, they’re still using oil lamps and sleeping in drafty, scrap wood houses as if the bombs fell just a few weeks ago.

A game where survival is not nearly as hard, where you aren’t grilling rabid dog meat and sleeping on a flea-infested mattress, is just not fun to most players. So, if the Fallout Civil Defense Administration had done a realistic job and cleaned all the literal skeletons out of the closet, Bethesda would have ultimately lost the one thing driving players in Fallout 4: the desire to survive.

This isn’t a condemnation of Bethesda at all—in fact, modeling at Bethesda Austin is kind of my dream job—but it is perhaps a critical look at their failure to use civil defense properly in order to bolster a certain environment, atmosphere, and play style. We simply don’t know, however, how much research and effort Bethesda (or even Interplay or Obsidian) put into civil defense. For all we know, one of their artists was simply inspired by the infamous “Serving you in time of emergency!” poster and didn’t think anything of it. But for a game that essentially trailblazes our pop culture understanding and opinion of nuclear warfare, it’s kind of a shame that civil defense is so overlooked. The Fallout series is almost obligated to get things right, especially when there are people who legitimately think the Vault Boy/Thumbs Up technique is a true way to measure fallout.

(It isn’t. This will get you killed.)

[the-responders]

Like if!! Part 2

Do you want to see some makeshift farming tools and some NCR Sharecropper Farm pieces after I post the holotape player sketch!