#pulowski shelter

[thefalloutwiki]

Pictured: Pulowski Preservation shelters as seen in Fallout 3 and in 4/76. In Fallout 3, the door could only be opened by the player, but Fallout 4 enabled the ability for NPCs to open the door.

You can read more about Pulowski Preservation shelters here.

[gutsfics]

really getting into fallout lore again & im considering writing a character that gets in a pulowski preservation shelter at the begining of the war & their ghoulification process

[fedorahead]

A short life wouldn't be so terrible in a world full of the nouveau-riche and what is essentially instant infinite inflation.

I wad the bill into my pocket and look at the piles of depression mess in my room. Some of it might be worth something. Definitely the hand worked wall shelf I ordered from a friend's etsy months ago. Maybe some of the name brand fashion thrift finds. The bookshelf has at least a grand of literature and comics, most likely. But I spent what little money I've earned through my life to get those things. Selling them would mean a life less full, maybe a little longer, maybe not.

If I genuinely believe the premise the money came with, that this was all I needed for the rest of my life, then I'm either about to have a very short life, or a very fantastic one. Or maybe I'll make a single move and end up imprisoned until I die. I'll accept the challenge, either way.

I gather the few stashes of money I have around my room; the cash on my dresser, a few extra laundered bills from clean pockets. If $5 is all I'm going to need, they won't be necessary... I put them in a cigar box in my wardrobe, below my altar. I can game the system later, when I have no other choice.

I've lived on a few bucks before, but I didn't have a car payment back then. On the other hand, back then, everyone around me, putting me up and putting up with me, was also pretty broke. Now everyone around me is flush with cash. And would a bank miles away come after me for the debt if nobody who works there needs the bank to succeed anymore? Could they even convince someone to hunt me down if they did?

My neighbour up the street considers himself retired. He's getting piles of packages delivered by drone every day. What happens when the drones stop flying with no one to maintain them? One drops into my yard, I pick it up and tighten a screw absently. It flies off. I wave, wondering what the little guy's luck will look like next time.

I get a call from my friend. Her car won't start and she needs me to come pick her up from work.

Pick her up from work?

People still need plumbers, she insists. Moreso, now that everyone's retired. When I get there, I muse about calling a tow truck and she looks at me like I asked her to pick up the vehicle herself and drag it. There aren't tow trucks anymore.

Well, the trucks still exist. I ask if she thinks buying one would help us get her car home, so we can work on it there. She agrees that buying a tow truck is a perfectly rational and reasonable solution to engine trouble in this new world, and we drive to the nearest tow lot so she can haggle with them for one.

The sole human we find at the tow lot says to just take it, his employees all left, his contract with the local PD is irrelevant now, and his business is ruined anyway, he's done with it all. I see my buddy's car in the impound, trapped from a couple weeks ago by compound impound fees when the person downstairs at their apartments got it maliciously towed for "not belonging to a resident". The lot owner has a pile of money sitting around his chair, and he's miserable because he truly loved what he did and now he has no power to flex over others. We leave him to his misery, and when we get back to her car I hook the car up like I've seen done to my junkers so many times.

Some people stay at the news station, drawing a salary but mostly working because they don't know what else to do with their lives, how to avoid their wives, where to channel their charisma or have their hair and makeup done by someone they've known for years. They report on the suicides, increasing daily. They report on the most audacious purchases of the day. They report on the collapse of the service economy, the staffless stores, the looting. Money means nothing anymore, and everything.

I'd always fantasized about a cashless society. I think, if it had happened differently, maybe it could have worked.

The news gets worse every day... but it also gets far more entertaining. The theatre nerds from the local college started filling in the empty jobs at the station. I'm not sure if they're getting paid or officially allowed or just crashing the party but the makeup gets more audacious every day, the suits are being decorated more and more, the scripts using larger words. It's fun to watch.

A lot of the older generation are still going to their jobs. Power plant security, college professors, street buskers, many of them haven't changed a thing about their work lives.

The only restaurants still running were always good to their people, or are using family labour. They're always packed with customers willing to drown them in tips for even existing. Our gluttony as a species loses no steam.

Congress passed a bill setting their income to minimum wage. It's a completely meaningless gesture, but it keeps the people who want power in power, because it looks so good to their constituents who haven't quite adjusted to the idea that money is meaningless now. All the branches of government are being run by the people who ran for power or ran for genuine love of politics... the second group is much smaller than the first.

International relations are confusing and complex, but we don't need some of the allies we have, and we don't have power over others anymore. No Saudi oil, no Israeli military. No debt to China.

The reports are getting more chaotic, more farcical... and they're worrying me more. She asks me why we even watch the news anymore, and I don't really have an answer besides the growing tension in the back of my neck, how often I need to unclench my jaw these days.

We're out walking along an abandoned strip mall when I hear the sirens. I didn't even know we had sirens, but they're echoing through the town, and there are flashing lights every block or so.

We hear the planes before we see them, and we're running. We don't know where to run to. At the very end of the strip mall, one of the flashing lights is on top of a cylindrical construction. A shelter just big enough for both of us to fit. We run up to it, I press the big red "open" button, and the screen above it flashes.

Please insert $5.00.

Everyone received the exact amount of money they would need for the rest of their life. Most people got many thousands or even millions, while you were given exactly five bucks.

[mscapgras]

NUCLEAR PROTECTION ON A BUDGET!

was studying some old 50's product mascots in a book on the internet archive; "Meet Mr. Product" was the name i believe. tried to whip up a mascot for Fallout's Pulowski brand shelters. not sure if i did the style perfect, but i like her regardless.

[wastelandbfs]

@oraeliaa and combined our powers to produce some Nick Valentine flavoured filth for you.

You'll know Oraeliaa from her AMAZING/STUNNING/LIFE-CHANGING Ghoulcy fics.

She has been an absolute babe to work with and we're already scheming together for our follow up fic(s)!

Synopsis below the cut...

Getting trapped in a Pulowski preservation shelter with the man she's been in love with for so long - the man with little to no interest in her - wasn't how Nora had planned on spending her Saturday. She'd pictured a cool summer breeze, a trip to Graygarden, and a perfect slice of pie... But with raiders outside the door and Nick's leg firmly wedged between her thighs, she can either ride it out or face the consequences. Now if only Nick's leg would stop vibrating...

[goodneighborxfallout]

Masterlist

I really thought I had a masterlist, anyway, now I do.

Companions react to:

Having sex with Sole

Sole breaking up with them

Sole trying to get back together with them (sequel to breaking up)

Sole coming out as trans

Sole using lingerie to impress them

Aquaboy/girl Sole sleeping underwater

Sole asking them to cum inside

Twin Soles constantly trying to finish each other’s sentences

Sole being stuck in a Pulowski Preservation Shelter

Overhearing Sole talk about their feelings to them

Sole having a cuckold/cuckquean fetish

Sole collecting stuffed animals (and insisting they be in bed with them)

Walking in on Sole about to commit suicide (trigger warning!)

Sole breaking down crying in their arms 

Sole being seriously injured/nearly dying

One shots:

[sassenashsworld]

Preston : ... and we can’t open it

Danse : Allow me a moment to ascertain the information you have just provided. Hancock and Nora have ventured into this Pulowski Shelter in collectively, for a purpose that eludes rationality. They have remained within its confines for a considerable span of time, while you have endeavored to extricate them. Regrettably, the capsule appears to be firmly locked up, impeding their evacuation. Have I comprehended it adequately?

Preston : In short...

Danse : [with a crow-bar, he literally smashes the gap between the door and the structure, then with a good push, he forces the door open]

Hancock : [crushed against the bottom of the capsule, Pickman’s knife against his throat] I really thought it was a good idea...

Preston : [pulls Nora out from the pod] Don’t kill him now. He’s still the mayor of Goodneighbor and we don’t want an inter-settlement war

Nora : Let me know as soon as we want it

Danse : Me first

[tones3d]

They made the Pulowski Preservation Shelter into a real thing!!

[bardic-inspo]

Stumbled across a group of five Pulowski Preservation Shelters surrounding a Port-o-Diner 🤨

Not that those things do shit to stop rad damage but someone was clearly thirsty for a post-nuclear apocalypse fight to the death for pie.

[legateamelia]

Plan A: Vaults

Plan B: House Bunkers

Plan C: Pulowski Preservation Shelter (?)

Plan D: Cyanide

“Jim’s Limbs” and “Vault Tec Plan D” are unabashedly excellent additions to Fallout canon

[the-pan-ace-writings]

February 16th ~ Improvised Shelter

Fallout February Master List 

    They had been walking some lonely street in the evening, the sun was starting to lower and the air was cooling. It had been most uneventful, the roads in this area were unusually clogged up with fusion cars, the side of the road was lined with small stands that were dilapidated and a small cluster of those battered blue tubes that used to be advertised on the TV. Nate used to talk about them non stop when she would call, it was something she quickly learned to tune out. 

    Currently MacCready and her were walking over to a settlement that the General had sent her a message about, something about needed to get a garden established so that they could worry about other things. Cready wasn't the happiest about having to help a settlement but was persuaded when Riona mentioned the possibility of getting paid. 

    Things had been going smoothly, they had been chatting lazily keeping a lax watch around them, Riona had sent Dogmeat ahead to meet them there. They had heard a crash from behind them as they watched a Deathclaw tumble into the roadway they were on. Riona had already drawn her pistol and meant to take aim but was startled when another one crashed into the one that had crumpled a car. It was huge and stood on its hind legs and let out a chilling howl. She felt MacCready grab her arm and pull her towards the side of the road, and she felt her blood run cold at the “Pulowski: Nuclear protection on a Budget!” And the closing of the door as he wedged them into the tube. 

    Deathclaws typically were not something that Riona would bother avoiding, she would much rather just deal with the creature than hide from it. Unfortunately there was one too many for her and MacCready to deal with at this moment. 

    Although she would have prefered to try instead of MacCready just pulling them into one of those old pre war Pulowski tubes. She nearly screamed when it closed around them, trapping them in cramped darkness that wasn't meant for two. She had gone very still and pressed herself into the wall of the container, unable to drop down into a smaller position, she could hear her breathing became erratic and could faintly hear MacCready asking if she was okay. 

   She could hear the faint clattering of chains against bolted shelves, could feel the stain on her wrist and her back from being forced to remain in a stretched crouched for hours on end could smell the room, and taste the blood in her mouth. It swarmed her. She needed to leave. 

    “Riona!” his voice a harsh whisper cut straight through. Her eyes twitched towards his, his face was etched with worry. 

    “Cready! Cready we have to go.’ She was shaking, her grip on her sword was faltering, she could hear it clattering on the walls of the tube. He shook his head and moved so that he was in front of the release panel. 

    “You know we can't do that.” He gave her a sad look, He couldn't let them leave, not until the Deathclaws left or there would be no returning anywhere. She had tears welling in her eyes, and she reached out to him. He settled her against his chest and tucked her head under his chin, his arms wrapping around her. He could feel her crying against him, and she was mumbling something that he couldn't catch. 

   “Not much longer, everything is going to be fine. We’re safe in here, nothings going to happen.” He was working on settling them on the ground. It was awkward but they managed. She was practically sitting on his lap and his legs were pressed awkwardly against the walls but it was sounding like they were in for a long hall as he could hear the Deathclaws trashing the old fusion cars and the trees lining the road they were walking on. 

   Riona was slowly starting to get a grip on her breathing, her fingers were buried into his scarf and she had her ear pressed against his chest. He was running his hand over her back slowly and occasionally brought his other through the loose sections of her hair.

   He hadn't thought he’d see the day when something like this could draw out such a reaction, almost everyone in the commonwealth today had to deal with cramped spaces, they were the only things left often times. He wanted to bring it up to her but didn't want to create a rift between them, she didn't seem like one to want to share much about her past and she would likely deny that this happened in the future. She built up frustratingly thick walls around her that MacCready desperately wanted access to but refused to pry.

    Instead he took to playing with her hair, having pulled it from its bun so that he could run his fingers though its full length, he could feel her gradually slowing her breathing down and loosen up on his scarf. He had started braiding small strands of her hair repetitively and braiding those strands together and slowly undoing them. Riona silently adjusted herself that she was more comfortably straddling his lap, and had tucked her face into the crook of his neck and wrapped one of her arms around the underside of his shoulder, she could still hear the deathclaws moving about the cars and hoped that they would take their leave soon. 

   “How long do you think they'll be there?” She whispered and he could feel her talking. He shook his head and tried to stretch out his legs further. 

   “I don't know. I would have thought they'd leave by now.” He hadn't thought he’d seen them travel in very large groups but they way that one had callout out shook something in him, he knew it down in his bones that more were coming and it was best to just sit them out. They could stay in here till morning without trouble so long as they did not make too much noise or draw their attention. “I think we might have to stay here for a while, I think that one called others.” He felt her whine and her grip on him tighten, he just ran his hand over her back humming slightly. “We’ll be okay.” 

   She shook her head and tucked in against him more, trying hard to not think of the janitors closet, the chains or the month locked away. Instead she tried to focus on MacCready, the way he ran his hand up her back or through her hair, or how he immediately knew to wrap himself around her and settle them to the ground. How he let her rest on him and be a grounding force to her. She was grateful to him to know what to do in these moments and not to pry. She didn't know what would happen if he tried to delve into that right now while she's trapped her, but she was certain that it wouldn't be good. 

   She sat up momentarily, and tried to pull off her pipboy but had to let MacCready help her unlatch it from her wrist so that she could set it on the ground. She mumbled a thank you before turning on the dim screen to check the time. 

   It had been an hour and they could hear the Deathclaws become more rowdy, it was likely they were staying here for the night. And while she absolutely hated that she still had responsibilities to fulfill, one of them was messaging the settlement of their predicament. MacCready was watching her fiddle with the pip boy that lit the cramped area with a sickly green, which highlighted the stress and tear lines that contoured her face, and it took a lot in him to not clutch her back to him and try to relieve that stress but he didn't want to cross that line. 

    She sat up further leaning back on his bent knees to look at the surrounding tube with the light the pip boy cast, she noticed how banged up the tube was lots of dents littered the walls and loose wires hung down from the top and the fan that looked rusted still. It was completely different than the janitors closet, and she took comfort in being able to see the difference. 

   “Can I keep the light on?” she looked down at MacCready who was silently observing her as she looked around the room. 

    “Sure,” He nodded and took the pip boy from her hands to set it down next to them, pointing it upwards. 

   “I think you were right about having to wait till morning.” her voice was more steady than before but was clearly drained, She pulled her hair from out of her face and let it settle down her back before she tucked herself back into him. “Thank you” she spoke into his shoulder and was slowly starting to relax into him as he started running his fingers through her hair again. 

   “It's not a problem Riona,” he spoke into her hair and let the mostly quiet of the shelter settle over them. 

   MacCready had tried to stay awake as long as he could in case something happened or Riona jerked out of sleep, but the quiet of the outside, and soft breathing of Riona lulled him into sleep. His fingers still in her hair and an arm thrown over her back to keep her from moving too much, a faint peaceful smile graced his face.

[floodl8]

“I promise I`ll find a new home for you.”

[bucketofdrugs]

He paused, physically stopping in his tracks before turning to look at her again. There was an uncharacteristic softness to his eyes. Not pity, no, but almost... sadness. Even his tone is more gentle. "Sweetheart, some people doing good don't meant it's any better. The bombs dropped everywhere; Los Angeles, Denver, Boston, ain't a place in this world gone untouched. Ain't a place in this country Vault Tec didn't set up shop, neither. The world, the whole damn world, went to hell in less time than it takes to watch a movie." He could still remember every agonizing second of those two hours in a Pulowski Shelter that didn't even do a lick of good. He still became... this, after just a few short years.

He envied the naivety, but not more than a moment before he starts back up again. "No. Not a single one. Heard the Institute might try something, but that was fifty or more years back. Those little vials, they help once it starts, but... but without those, once you go... you're gone." He had felt that take hold a good long time ago, long enough he can't even remember when. Everything felt hopeless, he had no inkling of what happened to his family, the last shreds of his self worth gone, and... it's like he snapped. Those little vials are all that kept that shred of humanity in tact. At least back then.

He tripped up when she made another offhand remark like it was nothing, catching himself on the trunk of a long dead tree beside him. For fuck sake... every time he thought he understood this girl a little more, she was right on it with proving his self wrong. Unfortunately for him, that gave him something to think about, and they had a long walk ahead of them for the next few days. His mind had a tendency to wander, and there was no way that wouldn't lead it to wander.

"Any man that don't appreciate a woman on top really don't deserve the woman that wants to be there. There's nothing wrong, or... immasculating about that view." The conversation had taken too many turns, gotten so far off track, and now he knew he was going to think about things he had no place thinking about. A hand ran over the side of his face, and instead of pressing on, slid his back down the trunk of that tree to sit. It was safer that way. "I got enough missing pieces, I don't wanna miss any more. Little blood is one thing, but that's... no. I... no."

Too soon to hope for a topic change? No, of course it was. "Well, if I knew that was any kind of indication of what fucking you would be like... but I meant something a little different than that. There are... places that tongue can be applied..." Why in God's brown earth was he still keeping this going? He huffed at himself, pulling the pack off his shoulder and rummaging through it, mostly looking to distract him with something- ANYTHING- else. He found a few pieces of radstag jerky he'd made a while back, tossing one to Dogmeat before offering another to Lucy.

"I hunt whoever has caps on their heads. I don't make those calls, I just deliver." He tore a hunk of the meat off with his teeth, chewing slowly in order to process the last few twists and turns in conversation. Gotta be something wrong with him... and her, for that matter. "Good. Long as you don't end up so feet under. Don't know what I'd tell Dog if you did." He chased the dry meat with a drink from his canteen, some of the water dribbling off his chin before he offered it to Lucy.

"East..." she repeated, thinking about that. So there were more people who had a civilized life up here, that her father, that Vault Tec, hadn't reached yet. "Maybe I should bring some of those people here. Seems like that side is doing just fine if there are people trying to do good." Instead of living so alone. "In any case I'll have to go back to the Vault and I can't do that until I know how to fight..." she trailed off, realizing she was casually informing him of her very personal plans. Not that he, of all people, would side with Vault Tec, but she hadn't meant to say anything to him, especially not before organizing her thoughts.

He was clever, and he had caught on her hesitant words. But of course he had no doubts, it was just do. "There is no... cure for being a ghoul, right? Nothing to permanently stop the risk of going feral?" Not that the world had infinite energy again, Lucy hoped something may come up, and simultaneously wondered if that meant she had murdered her mother for nothing. But he said they 'weren't living'.

Ah, so, the words and most of the habits when it came to sexual activities did seem to be more similar than she had expected, here and there. What he had said about men wanting her to be innocent was the only thing that for now didn't apply, and it was likely because it was important that people in the Vault received a good education. She nodded at his explanation, and found herself also wondering what he was actually like. It was a strange thought to have about a man who had tried to sell her before, but that was about survival; when it came to entertainment, would he be selfish or generous, careful not to actually reach the 'stimpack' point or not so much?

"I like props," she blurted out, to offer her own input on the subject, "Still, it's almost comforting to know it's not that different up here. Though I think in the Vault men may not appreciate marks as much. At least not from the women. Which I find silly, why should gender decide who's on top?" She had been relatively lucky in that department, at least, but she had been forced to hold back a little. "Anyway, I thought you meant a lot worse, like... I don't know, cutting things off."

She was actually laughing at the leftovers comment, as much as she wished she could be above that. Now why couldn't he have been like this from the beginning? "I think you know I'm more of a bite person, but sure." The real memory still upset her, but that didn't mean it couldn't be used right now for this. She had seen a new finger on his hand anyway. The sterilization part was one she had expected, and the reason why she hadn't worried about the raider getting her pregnant with that level of radiation in him, "I see. It's amazing what your body can still do despite the amount of radiation. You know what I mean," she added quickly.

"Well, can't you hunt bad people?" she asked, but really, for all his talk about being uncaring, he was still teaching her how to survive even if he didn't have to. "I know what I'll... I did kill some of the feral ghouls that day. I won't let people kill me easily. But I'll still do this my way."

[militaryhistoryvisualized]

One-Man Bunkers - Germany's Pulowski Preservation Shelter (Fallout)?

[lesbx]

bethesda almost actually made some kind of commentary with pulowski preservation shelters. nuclear shelters advertised before the war as ‘budget’ alternatives to securing a spot in a vault, but only allowing 1 person to a pod and providing nothing but an oxygen mask as the occupant is subjected to sponsored advertisements for local chain businesses playing from an overhead speaker, knowing anything and everything outside is being incinerated. almost every one you open, a corpse crumbles out. remains of a person surrounded by the few possessions they were able to grab just moments before unknowingly stepping into their coffin. it’s a cartoonish concept that only gets creepier the longer you think about it

[eattheglowingmoss]

See, I'm in love with that concept in the middle where it looks like Sole's made the teleporter out of a 101 cryo chamber (it could also very well be a Pulowski Preservation shelter but shh) becuase that would be a perfect cycle bringing the pre game into the end game.

You lost Shaun while trapped in one of those things. Now you'll have to return to one to get him back.

The tech that helped steal him from you is also the tech you're using to return him.

It would be neat, I think.

oh these are all so cool…especially the one with the car battery