exactly like Wheel of Time, but with more suck, less interesting storyline, boring-ass characters, and an entire class of character who exist for no other purpose than to provide sexual angst for the main chracter in the first book and thereafter are never used very well.
Sounds frightening, because variations of these elements are already present in WoT to a degree that makes me give it a pretty high suck rating.
Confessors: Their power is literally "If I touch you, you love me forever and would even die to please me."
Sisters of the Light: Aes Sedai with more stupid and less real justification.
In the year of 2041, Vault 7 was completely destroyed.
Millions perished.
I call it the ruins of a once great vault, where the strong bully the weak for what few bottle caps they've got.
My name is Charles Barkley. And this is my story."
The defenders of the vault stood with unease. They wanted to protect the children (but not the British children). They did not expect to have to turn on one another, those who shared their goals and morals. Those who have shared their dreams this entire journey. Will it all go to waste then, in a sea of blood?
DA drew his plasma gun, ready to attack. "We have to do what we have to do!"
"NO! STOP!!!"
The voice, it was not the voice of a ghoulish monster, nor that of a robotic master, nor that of a hulking mutant. It was the voice of an innocent child.
"Let's not fight, please! In our vault, we settle our differences the old way!" With those words, the child produced the secret item. The one thing that kept the vault dwellers from turning on each other. The thing that kept them sane. The ultimate mediator and unbiased judge.
A basketball.
Another kid pulled out a harmonica, and started humming out the tunes of Sweet Georgia Brown. The lights dimmed all around the vault, except for the spotlights illuminating the courtyard. The court...with two basketball nets on either side. Where they there before?
The kids' mother nodded. The matriarch knew what to do. If you build it, they will come.
Maybe this is going to be like Heroes, where we have to wait until halfway through the second season to find out what happened at the end of the first.
Helen stood, steadfast and resolute. She wasn’t sure how this was going to play out but was prepared for the worst. Her iron will, however, could not prevent sweat from collecting on her forehead.
For awhile, everyone shuffled their feet uncomfortably. Until…
“I say no.â€
Who said that? It was from somewhere near the middle of the group of caravaners.
“W-what?†Helen asked, a weakness showing in her icy composure.
“Sorry. But we’re taking the vault for our own.†A gurgling sound escaped from Helen as blood poured from a fresh wound in her throat from which a short blade protruded. She fell to her knees, eyes wide in shock and pain, and fell over.
In the distance, a collective gasp, shudder, and flurry of movement followed Helen’s collapse. The Vault 7 denizens had seen and knew what this meant.
“What it this? What is going on!†The caravan master was aghast.
“I’ll tell you what’s going on, old man. We’re taking this vault. For ourselves. You’re going to sit here like a good old geriatric and sell us supplies. Beyond that, we don’t care what you do…†The caravan master looked flustered and immediately stopped talking.
By now, though, the caravaners had begun to divide. A large rift was growing in the middle of their blob of beings, with some people flocking to the speaker and others getting as far away as possible, toward the other group that began to emerge, though it was unclear as to which side was bigger. Some were murmuring in approving tones while others were spitting and showing visible and audible signs of disgust.
“What madness is this?†Romantic Undead asked. “Why did you kill her?â€
Frosteey responded, “wasn’t me, but I can’t say I blame whoever did it. We’ve traveled together. We’re a family now and this lady expects us to off ourselves to buy a ticket into the vault, or worse exile more than forty of us to whatever plague is heading this way?â€
“Yeah, but-“
“Look,†Greeper picked up where Frosteey left off, “we all gathered in New Seattle for one reason: to band up and escape this plague. We knew it would be hard. We didn’t know each other and we were leaving the comforts of our home lives to hurl ourselves against the wasteland. We’ve fought, we’ve bled – individually and collectively – and here we are. This plagues coming and nothing’s changed. So, what? So the vault isn’t abandoned. So what they have children. This is a kill or be killed world, a take or haven taken from you existence. That’s what nuclear devastation does. It terraforms, but not just the land. It wipes the slate clean – the land, societies, and even morality. So fuck them.â€
“You killed Helen didn’t you?â€
“Damn right I did! Now are we going to stand here moralizing over her corpse, or are you all going to help me take this vault?â€
More murmuring. Some appreciative, some clearly appalled. But no decisive answers.
“I can’t stand this! I cannot!†lonelyahava began openly weeping. “I cannot kill these children, these families, in good conscience. But I cannot kill any of you either. Can’t we just put it to a vote-“
“What,†Jester313 asked, “vote to exile some of us? Draw straws? Fuck that. I’m not drawing any straws to see if I make it into the comfort of the vault or end up eating some kind of rolling death cloud as I wander off into the wasteland with the rest of the short-stacked. And anyone that tries to make me is going to be in for a world of hurt.â€
“Yeah, no vote, ‘ahava.†DevoutlyApathetic had stood up, a firey look in his eye. “No vote. We’ve got to make a choice here. Kill each other or attack the vault. Seems like some of us have made their choice. Well I’m making mine. I’m not going to assassinate anyone, but I won’t lie and say the amoral bullshit coming from some of their mouths isn’t making this an easier decision for me. I’m gonna go help defend the vault.â€
“But what about us! We bled together and fought together! We took Griffles and Samuel down! We stomped out radscorpions, gutted geckos, and pushed back on the press gang. Does that mean nothing?â€
Romantic Undead looked at Jester313 with palpable disgust. “Yes. It does.†He stalked off with DevoutlyApathetic, with a large group in toe.
The soon-to-be attackers watched as the large group stalked off toward the entrance to Vault 7. They looked at each other, shrugged, and started readying their various weapons.
“Changes nothing,†Toxic Toys said. “They want to get all bleeding heart and betray us, then fuck ‘em. We’ll help their hearts bleed a bit more literally.â€
They heard a gasp. Another group of caravaners stayed behind, not stalking off with those intending to defend the vault, but clearly not siding with the attackers either.
“Oh, and what about you guys? Just gonna watch as we blow each other to smithereens? C’mon, pick up your guns, help us take the vault…we probably won’t all live but the ones that do will have a comfy home.â€
“NO! I will not murder children! I will not murder the people I’ve traveled with either! If you must bloody yourselves, you can do it without us,†lonelyahava said.
“Fine, sister, fine. Just know this: When all is said and done, anyone not with us is against us.â€
And with that, they walked off to battle…
* * *
When the fifteen attackers arrived, they found the 150 +Vault 7 denizens armed, the turrets ready, and thirty-five of their own staring them down.
“This is suicide!†iamtheaznman said. “Should we still-“
“Yes! We’re pot committed now anyway. Do you think they’re going to take us back? Best we kill as many as we can and hope for the best.â€
The resultant battle was a complete massacre. The attackers spread out, hoping to maximize the body count, while avoiding their ex-comrades. They were blown to smithereens. But not before their battle rage claimed many lives.
Fallout_Boy, FreeAgent, and Greeper went out to meet Group A. And took some potshots. Greeper shot Thelma and Louise to death with extreme prejudice: “I hated that movie!†Fallout_Boy took out Henry, a husband, and the newly-widowed Sandra shot him in the head with her rifle while the dog scampered around the battlefield, yelping and biting at the ankles of other attackers. FreeAgent grinned as he fired at Marla and Amy, thinking them easy targets, but Brad and Jesse, the two Kran boys, screamed and said “you will not hurt our mother and sister!†They died for it, but they protected the two ladies. Now a distraught widower, John, hurled his Wakazashi at FreeAgent, freeing the agent’s head from his body. Greeper was especially vicious, taking out Jezebel. “See what you have earned, Vault 7, for trying to bar us entry!†He then noticed Goldy’s fishbowl, picked it up, smashed it on the rocky earth, and stepped on the defenseless fish before a lucky blast from Marvin’s laser rifle burned a hole through Greeper’s head.
Frosteey, iamtheaznman, Jester313, Pb, Pseudolus, and Seriously chose the slightly-less-well-armed Group B, taking out three of the five Tommys in their little 1920’s throwback-gang. Pseudolus hated dentures, he found them disgusting, so Sensa, an old, denture-wielding cripple, bit the dust, before he went on to slaughter some of the unarmed children. Pb, Jester313, and Seriously joined him while iamtheaznman went toe to toe with a cutesy, little robot who he managed to disassemble before one of the nearby, left turrets shredded him. Frosteey, though, had a specific goal in mind. “Fuck birds. I fucking hate them.†Robot, an elderly woman, was holding Fluffy the Parakeet and a sword. She looked a bit alarmed as Frosteey approached, but stood her ground. “What’s your name,†he asked. “Robot,†she replied, coolly. “Robot? Dumb name for a human. Hand over the bird,†he retorted. “No,†she threw back. “Fine,†he said. “Really?†she asked. “No, no, it’s not fine. Not at all.†In a moment, Robot’s head had escape her neck and Frosteey had Fluffy the Parakeet in hand. “You’re so cute,†he said. He then threw Fluffy at the ground and squashed it with all his might. “Fucking birds.†He was shaking, so he went off to help kill children. He took down a dozen himself, snapping their little necks, before being stabbed through the chest with a switchblade. “Nngrrrh!â€
Entreri, and Sepah all went off to meet The Robots in group C. Amazingly enough, they managed to kill off over half of them and five of the unarmed humans they protected before biting the dust. Last Son stood there, deflecting bullets like a magician, while firing and destroying robots. He hardly even cared when Entreri and Sepah were blown away. He was having fun kicking ass and taking names…not that he actually cared about these robot’s names.
Toxic Toys, Crovaxan, and delroland all headed off to Group D. Ahh…children. Innocent, but maybe not, because these were all wielding Molotov Cocktails.
B:L noticed visiblehowl – a neutral – approach, watching the battle with wide-eyed interest and blew him away. “That’ll teach you ‘not to take sides,’ idiot.†Of course, visiblehowl’s corpse was not likely to learn anything in its dead, mangled condition. But the oddest act was when Ultarune and Plutonium unexpectedly turned on Egos, a fellow defender, and blew him into the Aether.
Last Son grinned and waved at everyone as he stalked off for a quick breather. There was more to be done but the fighting had ceased. It wasn’t until Last Son got back to his little encampment that he realized…he was alone…
Day Two
Day Two was a no brainer. Last Son wouldn’t be that stupid, would he?
The night was…sad. Corpses, bits of mutant, human, and ghoul flesh everywhere. Bolts and nuts were strewn across sinew and bone, oil mixed with blood mixed with earth…all for what? What had anyone accomplished last night except reaffirm that humanoids just can’t get along?
So much death. All on a whim. Some “plague†was coming. Some disaster.
Many of them thought “what if we are the disaster?â€
It was a poetic, emotional thought, though, and not one necessarily based on facts; they had been told, many times in their travel, that some horrible disaster was stalking them from west. What it was, they had no way of knowing. But it brought them all here, together, and it split them all apart, too.
* * *
Last Son sat, far away, cradling his plasma rifle. He was on the downswing, now, his lust for battle assuaged by his miraculous escape.
But where could he go? He was between a rock and a hard place now. This “disaster†they had all been running from was approaching, so he couldn’t go home. He had attacked his brothers-and-sisters-in-arms, so that was a no go, and even if he managed to be one of thirty surviving caravaners, he was positive the vault would turn him away after…
After he had killed their children…
He could forgive himself for that. It was the wasteland. Life here was like the frontier. You make your own morality, or you die.
Still…Last Son couldn’t help wondering if he’d made the wrong decision. Not necessarily because of any silly moral quandaries, but because he now stood alone. Maybe that’s the only aspect of morality that mattered: how many people agreed with you.
But he was tired. And hungry. And wanted to sleep, one way or another. He knew he couldn’t go back home. And the defenders wouldn’t accept him, that much was plain. But he didn’t want to spend his last moments of life philosophizing about morals. Why not go out with a melty bang? That’s what his plasma rifle was good for, and that’s what HE was good for now.
So, Last Son set off again for the children…but not directly. A few rocks were able to conceal his approach. It was there that he saw Shamus, polishing his 10mm SMG.
“Ho, Last Son. Been waiting for you.â€
“Er…hi,†Last Son eyed Shamus’ SMG suspiciously.
“Nah, Last Son, don’t worry about it. Kinda had a change of heart about all this. I’m rather tired of all this bullshit. How about we both go out with a bang.â€
“Are…are you sure?â€
“Sure I’m sure. Aren’t you sure?â€
“Sure.â€
“Okay, let’s go kill some children.â€
“Okay, sure.â€
Shamus and Last Son, an unlikely duo, sauntered around through the cavern that concealed their approach to the battlescape…
* * *
The others had their own problems as they walked off to rest, repair, and regroup.
“Now what? Clearly we’re still too many,†DevoutlyApathetic explained. No more than thirty. There were fifty-one left among them, all told. “What should we do?â€
Only silence followed, until Plutonium came stumbling into view.
“WHO STOLE MY MINIGUN?!â€
Plutonium was red-faced and livid. He was holding absolutely nothing where only an hour before.
“How’d you lose it?†one asked.
“I have no idea. It was in my hands one moment and out of them the next. I…I didn’t even notice!â€
“God must not have wanted you to have it,†someone else said.
“Pshaw, that’s ludicrous . There is no ‘God’ here. There’s only us, with swords and guns and grabby fucking fingers. I swear to God, I’ll fong every one of you to death until I find out who stole my minigun!†Plutonium shouted and then mumbled, “I knew I should have brought my forensics analysis kit with me from PAXville…â€
“Oh you will, will you? ‘Fong’ all of us, you say?â€
“Yeah and why’re you swearing to God if he ain’t here, dipshit?â€
“I WANT MY MINIGUN!†Plutonium stamped his feet and walked in random circles, occasionally looking up and glaring at one defender or another. “WE’RE SUPPOSED TO BE HELPING EACH OTHER! WHY WOULD YOU STEAL MY MINIGUN? WHY?!?!?!â€
“Here.†real_pocaccho handed Plutonium his minigun back. “Look, I didn’t steal it, and I’m not going to tell you who did, but you can have it back. Do us all a favor, though, and go ‘fong’ yourself.â€
“DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHO YOU ARE DEALING WITH? DO YOU?!?!??!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!!?!?!?!?!?!?!?â€
Plutonium had clearly lost it.
And everyone else was starting to get riled up too.
“Well, as much of a dick as I think he is,†B:L said, “he kind of has a point.†For some reason, B:L had a subtle but wicked grin on his face.
“A point? No, he has a gun. ‘His’ gun, back in his hands, because he’s a baby. He had a point…that Wakazashi in his belt, but that wasn’t good enough for him, was it!â€
“WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE TALKING TO!!!!†Plutonium spat. But then he realized how futile it was. “Wait, you know what? Forget it, I’m sorry.â€
But it was too late. Everyone was up in arms over this minigun and the arguments were heated. Some of the smarter in the bunch realized that this was just pretense…and excuse to thin the herd. Which is exactly what started to happen.
“If that’s how you all feel, I guess I will damn you all to Hell!â€
“For someone that doesn’t believe in God, this yokel keeps talking in religious terms,†UEAK Crash said.
“YOKEL?!?!?!†With that, Plutonium trained his minigun on the crowd and opened fire. Zek, Stew_Stick, UEAK Crash, Burnage, Ultarune, and Varcayn immediately charged him. Zek’s cattle prod floppd out in front of him, UEAK Crash held his Wakasashi high overhead, and Varcayn ran ahead with his plasma rifle. Burnage started firing at Plutonium’s face with his assault rifle, while Stew_Stick and Ultarune closed the distance with their super sledgehammer and flamethrowers, respectively.
Plutonium, mad with rage, could not aim with all the fire burning in his eyes, but he still managed to chew through Stew_Stick, UEAK Crash, and Ultarune, and even accidentally hit Cheez with a few bullets before they managed to take him down. Zek was especially brutal and seemed to go into a bloodlust rage. He pulled Plutonium’s hair and, somehow, popped his head right off his neck.
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! Can’t use your minigun anymore, can you? CAN YOU?†Zek started drooling and threw Plutonium’s head square at Maximus. Maximus recoiled as Zek ran over and cattle-prodded him into a crispy mess. “TAKE THAT!â€
MrBlarney shrugged and decided to use up some of the plasma he’d been chugging around. Might as well, I’m just going to have to sit out here anyway, aren’t I? Throwing a grenade, he managed to take out both Damned Librarian and evilbob.
real_poccacho wasn’t happy about all this either and decided to take it out on DasUberEdward with his 10mm SMG. DasUberEdward’s friend was generally a nice guy, but the sight of his friend getting smashed up by a torrent of bullets changed him a bit. One plasma bolt from niceguy myeye’s rifle and real_poccacho was down, too. “An eye for an eye, even for a niceguy,†he riffed.
Cheez’s right leg had been blown off by Plutonium. The pain was immense. He asked is anyone would help end his suffering. “Please. Please! This is…too much.â€
“All I have are these plasma grenades…†Unearthly Stew said.
“Fine, fine, give me one.â€
“Wh-what? Why? What are you going to do?â€
“Just give me one! Please!â€
Unearthly Stew was shaken, but he looked at the stump that used to be cheez’s leg and relented. “Fine. Here.â€
cheez took the grenade, pulled the pin, winked at Unearthly Stew, and swallowed it.
“Holy shit!†Unearthly Stew exclaimed, just as cheez’s body erupted and melted organs flew from his mangled body.
The fighting had started to die down after that. But only until Bliss 101 walked over to the group and sat down. “You look pissed, Locus.â€
“I am.â€
“Why?â€
“Well, have you read this book?†Locus took something out of his knapsack.
Bliss 101 read the title with wide eyes. “Yes, yes, I have, put it away.â€
“Yeah, me too,†Locus said, putting the Book of Rage away. It kind of gets me fired up.
“Well, me too, but I try not to think about it too much.â€
“I can’t help it. I can’t! I just can’t!â€
Locus pulled the book out again, stared at its cover, and shoved it into Bliss 101’s face, breaking his jaw apart. He then repeatedly slammed his fist into the book until half of his skull had sprung back and his corpse toppled over.
Locus then picked up a twig, collected some of Bliss’s blood, and scrawled a note about the death into the book. “So it is written in the Book of Rage.â€
Zek was on a rampage, slapping everyone in the face with this cattle prod but not managing to kill anyone. Finally everyone got tired and just sat on him until his ribs broke and his insides were squashed.
Meanwhile, FrostMist took his Tommy Gun out and fired a few rounds at Jpants whose power fists couldn’t save him.
Durax, on the other hand, had set up his light support weapon on the outskirts at the beginning of all this and was just biding his time. He decided to have some fun. Oatway would have disagreed that this was “fun†if he’d survived the heavy stream of bullets that Durax focused on him.
“Whew,†MrBlarney said. “Okay, I think that’s it. Let me pull my spreadsheet out and I’ll tally up the deaths.†He looked at his watch. “As of 126 seconds ago, we had forty-seven caravaners left. Now, we have…â€
Some neutrals came up, then, and decided they’d had enough of the MrBlarney’s lists. They took his calculator, they took his spreadsheet, and they took their guns to his face. “Wait, we won’t win, we still have thirty-f-“ But it was too late. They pistol whipped his jaw into a broken mess after which he could only spit blood and crumple to the earth.
“Wait a minute,†Romantic Undead suddenly thought, has anyone been keeping an eye on Last Son? And whatever happened to Shamus?
He turned his head away from the fray toward the vault gates and couldn’t believe it. Last Son had slipped around and outflanked them, but he wasn’t even gunning for them…he was heading straight for Group D and, even worse, Shamus was with him!
“Wait, all, wait!†Romantic Undead tried screaming, but the cacophony muffled his speech. “Fuck it! Coregoon, c’mon. We’re supposed to be watching the children.â€
Romantic Undead and Coregoon started running toward Group D, whom they had both abandoned to deal with the caravaners’ bickering. It wasn’t easy, to run at top speed while pointing a Tommy Gun, but somehow Coregoon managed, and caught Shamus right in the face with the brunt of the burst, while Shamus’ screams filled the air. “That’s fitting, you fucking traitor. WHEN WILL YOU LEARN?â€
Last Son smiled. “Ah, Romantic Undead, Coregoon, you are both just in time.â€
“J-just in time? N-no, wait!â€
“Watch.â€
The children were frightened and seemed to have forgotten they were armed. In fact, the entire vault population seemed to be engrossed in what was happening half a mile away while the caravaners bickered among themselves. Nobody noticed Last Son menacing the children, or Romantic Undead’s attempt to stop him.
Last Son and Romantic Undead stared each other down. What Romantic Undead hadn’t known was that Last Son had apprenticed as a weaponsmith back home. He hadn’t fired yet because he never intended too. Without warning, Last Son slammed his fist on his plasma rifle and threw it, hard, into the middle of the pack of children. Before they could even react, the rifle tore apart, sending hot plasma in a wide circle around them, transmogrifying their small, fleshy bodies into peach- and green-colored putty.
It only took Romantic Undead one startled second to realize that he, too, was armed. He raised his rifle and aimed a shot right between Last Son’s eyes, who melted screamlessly into the puddle of children his violence had wrought.
* * *
B:L looked over as a green flash hit the periphery of his vision, and saw DevoutlyApathetic staring over a melted Rear Admiral Choco, plasma rifle at the ready. He ran over.
“What the FUCK did you just do, DevoutlyApathetic,†B:L asked. “Are you crazy?!â€
DevoutlyApathetic looked at B:L. “No, why? He attacked me! See?†DevoutlyApathetic pointed as a scratch on his face.
B:L ignored him. “First, precisionk, now Rear Admiral Choco. That’s it, buddy. You’re done.†He was surprisingly fast with his super sledge, and DevoutlyApathetic’s frail body broke under its heft.
B:L shrugged and walked back to the caravaners.
Epilogue
The remaining Vault 7 denizens had retreated back into the hallway, leaving their protectors standing around outside.
B:L came back and did a quick count. “More than thirty. Shit.â€
“Dammit, we have thirty-two left? Maybe they can squeeze us in.â€
“Doubtful.â€
Still, they all gathered by the Vault 7 doors, hopeful while its citizens stalked back inside, tired and crying at the violence brought upon them by this group of ruffians.
The Overseer and Overseer Matriarch came to Vault 7’s massive door.
“Thank you, but…you appear to have too many.â€
“We know. But…and I don’t mean to sound insensitive…you’ve lost some people. Surely you have room for the two extra people we have?â€
“You are quite right, that we have additional room. You are also quite right that such a suggestion is insensitive. Thus, we must rescind our offer. I am sorry. To be quite frank, after all that has happened, we need time to grieve and rebuild. Never did we believe such a thing could happen, and the presence of even one of you here would be highly disruptive.
“Please leave.â€
The Overseer looked anguished. He had managed to keep the vault he oversaw from falling into enemy hands, but at such a cost. More than seventy dead, most of them children. The robots could be rebuilt, their personalities transferred. But the children. And the families… Broken.
* * *
The caravaners walked away, heads bent low. Thirty-two. Did they do the right thing? Should they have stayed together and stormed the vault with the others, killing men, women, humans, ghouls, mutants, robots, adults, and children, the healthy and the sick, all with impunity, just to secure their own future?
Maybe. Maybe they did, maybe they didn’t. They continued walking east, hoping to escape this nameless plague. What was it? What would befall them if they couldn’t get far enough away?
* * *
Far to the west, preparations were being made.
Soon. Soon…
Deaths tonight:
Bliss 101
cheez
DamnedLibrarian
DasUberEdward
DevoutlyApathetic
evilbob
JPants
Last Son
Maximus
MrBlarney
Oatway
Plutonium
real_pochacco
Rear Admiral Choco
Shamus
Stew_Stick
UEAKCrash
Ultarune
Zek
Those who faded away in the wastelands:
B:L
Burnage
Buzz Buzz
cj iwakura
CoreGoon
Daius
durax
El Skid
Fembot
FrostMist
giltanis
hesthefastest
Hylianbunny
Infidel
Lightor216
Locus
lonelyahava
Marshmallow
Mr. Defecation
Niceguy Myeye
Nion
PsychoLarry1
Quoth
Rend
Romantic Undead
TheLawinator
Trust
UEAK Carnage
Unearthly Stew
Varcayn
Wildcat
Zellpher
So... we should have all stormed the vaults? Like they were going to let thirty of us in even if some of us were aiming to protect the vault from attack. Hmm...
So what's the final verdict? Everybody loses, I guess. But was that because there were too many people left alive, including neutrals? Or was it destiny that we would be turned away?
Seems like you're kind of bitter? Sorry... but I just wasn't really invested in the game and didn't analyze the situation well enough. That was the direction things were going, and I went along with the flow. So if you want to blame me, go ahead. But I'm not the only one. *sigh*
Thanks for playing everyone, we hope you had fun amidst the errors, long game days and mistakes that were made.
Please let us know what you thought about the game and the mechanics and such we tried. We had a great deal of new things we wanted to try out and we wanted your feedback on how they panned out in reality versus on paper for us.
Thanks again, we hope you had fun these past 2 weeks.
So... we should have all stormed the vaults? Like they were going to let thirty of us in even if some of us were aiming to protect the vault from attack. Hmm...
So what's the final verdict? Everybody loses, I guess. But was that because there were too many people left alive, including neutrals? Or was it destiny that we would be turned away?
I guess I lived to be turned away? Unless I melted with the group D kids I was trying to defend. Ew.
I enjoyed this Phalla - one suggestion though, it would have been handy (at least for me) if the things that were clarified throughout the thread were linked from one of the initial posts, or added to it.
Funny that Locus killed me with the Book of Rage. I think Drez and I are psychic.
Had I survived and we'd have taken the vault, I'd have a written a post-game RP where my robot becomes a teacher of the surviving children in order to indoctrinate them into his wacky robotic beliefs. At first I was going to end it with the beginning of a story about Gumpy the Martyr, but then while waiting for the narration I realized that me opening the Book of Rage would be a far more awesome ending.
Bliss 101 on
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thorgotthere is special providencein the fall of a sparrowRegistered Userregular
Who did I loot the power armor off of last night, btw? I guess I moved on and killed somebody else after Plutonium got away but I have no idea who.
I think I was the only one that scored power armor, so me?
Good job getting it off me, I thought my steal skill would protect me from that.
I didn't steal anything, I tried to kill Plutonium with the rest, failed, and the next day I had some Power Armor in my pack. I just assumed that I killed somebody else instead, since I also used all my plasma grenades.
I didn't vote for anything. For some reason it didn't register with me that I was supposed to vote in my action PM. (I would have voted to save them anyway.)
That many people voted to leave the neutrals alone? Weren't the neutrals "leaving", effectively committing suicide? O_o
Leaving wasn't an option. I stated in the last narration that people have to vote in their PM to me, which some did but most did not, whether or not to kill the neutrals. 50% or more of the winning team had to vote YEA for killing neutrals and it would have been done.
Posts
Sisters of the Light: Aes Sedai with more stupid and less real justification.
Just two examples.
Really all I require is that I be the tragic hero that willingly died fighting for the most inclusive win condition.
Basically everyone would have won if only they had listened to me...
if only my words had not fallen on deaf ears
all this pain
all this conflict
if
In the year of 2041, Vault 7 was completely destroyed.
Millions perished.
I call it the ruins of a once great vault, where the strong bully the weak for what few bottle caps they've got.
My name is Charles Barkley. And this is my story."
The defenders of the vault stood with unease. They wanted to protect the children (but not the British children). They did not expect to have to turn on one another, those who shared their goals and morals. Those who have shared their dreams this entire journey. Will it all go to waste then, in a sea of blood?
DA drew his plasma gun, ready to attack. "We have to do what we have to do!"
"NO! STOP!!!"
The voice, it was not the voice of a ghoulish monster, nor that of a robotic master, nor that of a hulking mutant. It was the voice of an innocent child.
"Let's not fight, please! In our vault, we settle our differences the old way!" With those words, the child produced the secret item. The one thing that kept the vault dwellers from turning on each other. The thing that kept them sane. The ultimate mediator and unbiased judge.
A basketball.
Another kid pulled out a harmonica, and started humming out the tunes of Sweet Georgia Brown. The lights dimmed all around the vault, except for the spotlights illuminating the courtyard. The court...with two basketball nets on either side. Where they there before?
The kids' mother nodded. The matriarch knew what to do. If you build it, they will come.
And they did.
And they slam-jammed.
THE END.
[SIGPIC][/SIGPIC]
Helen stood, steadfast and resolute. She wasn’t sure how this was going to play out but was prepared for the worst. Her iron will, however, could not prevent sweat from collecting on her forehead.
For awhile, everyone shuffled their feet uncomfortably. Until…
“I say no.â€
Who said that? It was from somewhere near the middle of the group of caravaners.
“W-what?†Helen asked, a weakness showing in her icy composure.
“Sorry. But we’re taking the vault for our own.†A gurgling sound escaped from Helen as blood poured from a fresh wound in her throat from which a short blade protruded. She fell to her knees, eyes wide in shock and pain, and fell over.
In the distance, a collective gasp, shudder, and flurry of movement followed Helen’s collapse. The Vault 7 denizens had seen and knew what this meant.
“What it this? What is going on!†The caravan master was aghast.
“I’ll tell you what’s going on, old man. We’re taking this vault. For ourselves. You’re going to sit here like a good old geriatric and sell us supplies. Beyond that, we don’t care what you do…†The caravan master looked flustered and immediately stopped talking.
By now, though, the caravaners had begun to divide. A large rift was growing in the middle of their blob of beings, with some people flocking to the speaker and others getting as far away as possible, toward the other group that began to emerge, though it was unclear as to which side was bigger. Some were murmuring in approving tones while others were spitting and showing visible and audible signs of disgust.
“What madness is this?†Romantic Undead asked. “Why did you kill her?â€
Frosteey responded, “wasn’t me, but I can’t say I blame whoever did it. We’ve traveled together. We’re a family now and this lady expects us to off ourselves to buy a ticket into the vault, or worse exile more than forty of us to whatever plague is heading this way?â€
“Yeah, but-“
“Look,†Greeper picked up where Frosteey left off, “we all gathered in New Seattle for one reason: to band up and escape this plague. We knew it would be hard. We didn’t know each other and we were leaving the comforts of our home lives to hurl ourselves against the wasteland. We’ve fought, we’ve bled – individually and collectively – and here we are. This plagues coming and nothing’s changed. So, what? So the vault isn’t abandoned. So what they have children. This is a kill or be killed world, a take or haven taken from you existence. That’s what nuclear devastation does. It terraforms, but not just the land. It wipes the slate clean – the land, societies, and even morality. So fuck them.â€
“You killed Helen didn’t you?â€
“Damn right I did! Now are we going to stand here moralizing over her corpse, or are you all going to help me take this vault?â€
More murmuring. Some appreciative, some clearly appalled. But no decisive answers.
“I can’t stand this! I cannot!†lonelyahava began openly weeping. “I cannot kill these children, these families, in good conscience. But I cannot kill any of you either. Can’t we just put it to a vote-“
“What,†Jester313 asked, “vote to exile some of us? Draw straws? Fuck that. I’m not drawing any straws to see if I make it into the comfort of the vault or end up eating some kind of rolling death cloud as I wander off into the wasteland with the rest of the short-stacked. And anyone that tries to make me is going to be in for a world of hurt.â€
“Yeah, no vote, ‘ahava.†DevoutlyApathetic had stood up, a firey look in his eye. “No vote. We’ve got to make a choice here. Kill each other or attack the vault. Seems like some of us have made their choice. Well I’m making mine. I’m not going to assassinate anyone, but I won’t lie and say the amoral bullshit coming from some of their mouths isn’t making this an easier decision for me. I’m gonna go help defend the vault.â€
“But what about us! We bled together and fought together! We took Griffles and Samuel down! We stomped out radscorpions, gutted geckos, and pushed back on the press gang. Does that mean nothing?â€
Romantic Undead looked at Jester313 with palpable disgust. “Yes. It does.†He stalked off with DevoutlyApathetic, with a large group in toe.
The soon-to-be attackers watched as the large group stalked off toward the entrance to Vault 7. They looked at each other, shrugged, and started readying their various weapons.
“Changes nothing,†Toxic Toys said. “They want to get all bleeding heart and betray us, then fuck ‘em. We’ll help their hearts bleed a bit more literally.â€
They heard a gasp. Another group of caravaners stayed behind, not stalking off with those intending to defend the vault, but clearly not siding with the attackers either.
“Oh, and what about you guys? Just gonna watch as we blow each other to smithereens? C’mon, pick up your guns, help us take the vault…we probably won’t all live but the ones that do will have a comfy home.â€
“NO! I will not murder children! I will not murder the people I’ve traveled with either! If you must bloody yourselves, you can do it without us,†lonelyahava said.
“Fine, sister, fine. Just know this: When all is said and done, anyone not with us is against us.â€
And with that, they walked off to battle…
When the fifteen attackers arrived, they found the 150 +Vault 7 denizens armed, the turrets ready, and thirty-five of their own staring them down.
“This is suicide!†iamtheaznman said. “Should we still-“
“Yes! We’re pot committed now anyway. Do you think they’re going to take us back? Best we kill as many as we can and hope for the best.â€
The resultant battle was a complete massacre. The attackers spread out, hoping to maximize the body count, while avoiding their ex-comrades. They were blown to smithereens. But not before their battle rage claimed many lives.
Fallout_Boy, FreeAgent, and Greeper went out to meet Group A. And took some potshots. Greeper shot Thelma and Louise to death with extreme prejudice: “I hated that movie!†Fallout_Boy took out Henry, a husband, and the newly-widowed Sandra shot him in the head with her rifle while the dog scampered around the battlefield, yelping and biting at the ankles of other attackers. FreeAgent grinned as he fired at Marla and Amy, thinking them easy targets, but Brad and Jesse, the two Kran boys, screamed and said “you will not hurt our mother and sister!†They died for it, but they protected the two ladies. Now a distraught widower, John, hurled his Wakazashi at FreeAgent, freeing the agent’s head from his body. Greeper was especially vicious, taking out Jezebel. “See what you have earned, Vault 7, for trying to bar us entry!†He then noticed Goldy’s fishbowl, picked it up, smashed it on the rocky earth, and stepped on the defenseless fish before a lucky blast from Marvin’s laser rifle burned a hole through Greeper’s head.
Frosteey, iamtheaznman, Jester313, Pb, Pseudolus, and Seriously chose the slightly-less-well-armed Group B, taking out three of the five Tommys in their little 1920’s throwback-gang. Pseudolus hated dentures, he found them disgusting, so Sensa, an old, denture-wielding cripple, bit the dust, before he went on to slaughter some of the unarmed children. Pb, Jester313, and Seriously joined him while iamtheaznman went toe to toe with a cutesy, little robot who he managed to disassemble before one of the nearby, left turrets shredded him. Frosteey, though, had a specific goal in mind. “Fuck birds. I fucking hate them.†Robot, an elderly woman, was holding Fluffy the Parakeet and a sword. She looked a bit alarmed as Frosteey approached, but stood her ground. “What’s your name,†he asked. “Robot,†she replied, coolly. “Robot? Dumb name for a human. Hand over the bird,†he retorted. “No,†she threw back. “Fine,†he said. “Really?†she asked. “No, no, it’s not fine. Not at all.†In a moment, Robot’s head had escape her neck and Frosteey had Fluffy the Parakeet in hand. “You’re so cute,†he said. He then threw Fluffy at the ground and squashed it with all his might. “Fucking birds.†He was shaking, so he went off to help kill children. He took down a dozen himself, snapping their little necks, before being stabbed through the chest with a switchblade. “Nngrrrh!â€
Entreri, and Sepah all went off to meet The Robots in group C. Amazingly enough, they managed to kill off over half of them and five of the unarmed humans they protected before biting the dust. Last Son stood there, deflecting bullets like a magician, while firing and destroying robots. He hardly even cared when Entreri and Sepah were blown away. He was having fun kicking ass and taking names…not that he actually cared about these robot’s names.
Toxic Toys, Crovaxan, and delroland all headed off to Group D. Ahh…children. Innocent, but maybe not, because these were all wielding Molotov Cocktails.
B:L noticed visiblehowl – a neutral – approach, watching the battle with wide-eyed interest and blew him away. “That’ll teach you ‘not to take sides,’ idiot.†Of course, visiblehowl’s corpse was not likely to learn anything in its dead, mangled condition. But the oddest act was when Ultarune and Plutonium unexpectedly turned on Egos, a fellow defender, and blew him into the Aether.
Last Son grinned and waved at everyone as he stalked off for a quick breather. There was more to be done but the fighting had ceased. It wasn’t until Last Son got back to his little encampment that he realized…he was alone…
Day Two was a no brainer. Last Son wouldn’t be that stupid, would he?
The night was…sad. Corpses, bits of mutant, human, and ghoul flesh everywhere. Bolts and nuts were strewn across sinew and bone, oil mixed with blood mixed with earth…all for what? What had anyone accomplished last night except reaffirm that humanoids just can’t get along?
So much death. All on a whim. Some “plague†was coming. Some disaster.
Many of them thought “what if we are the disaster?â€
It was a poetic, emotional thought, though, and not one necessarily based on facts; they had been told, many times in their travel, that some horrible disaster was stalking them from west. What it was, they had no way of knowing. But it brought them all here, together, and it split them all apart, too.
Last Son sat, far away, cradling his plasma rifle. He was on the downswing, now, his lust for battle assuaged by his miraculous escape.
But where could he go? He was between a rock and a hard place now. This “disaster†they had all been running from was approaching, so he couldn’t go home. He had attacked his brothers-and-sisters-in-arms, so that was a no go, and even if he managed to be one of thirty surviving caravaners, he was positive the vault would turn him away after…
After he had killed their children…
He could forgive himself for that. It was the wasteland. Life here was like the frontier. You make your own morality, or you die.
Still…Last Son couldn’t help wondering if he’d made the wrong decision. Not necessarily because of any silly moral quandaries, but because he now stood alone. Maybe that’s the only aspect of morality that mattered: how many people agreed with you.
But he was tired. And hungry. And wanted to sleep, one way or another. He knew he couldn’t go back home. And the defenders wouldn’t accept him, that much was plain. But he didn’t want to spend his last moments of life philosophizing about morals. Why not go out with a melty bang? That’s what his plasma rifle was good for, and that’s what HE was good for now.
So, Last Son set off again for the children…but not directly. A few rocks were able to conceal his approach. It was there that he saw Shamus, polishing his 10mm SMG.
“Ho, Last Son. Been waiting for you.â€
“Er…hi,†Last Son eyed Shamus’ SMG suspiciously.
“Nah, Last Son, don’t worry about it. Kinda had a change of heart about all this. I’m rather tired of all this bullshit. How about we both go out with a bang.â€
“Are…are you sure?â€
“Sure I’m sure. Aren’t you sure?â€
“Sure.â€
“Okay, let’s go kill some children.â€
“Okay, sure.â€
Shamus and Last Son, an unlikely duo, sauntered around through the cavern that concealed their approach to the battlescape…
The others had their own problems as they walked off to rest, repair, and regroup.
“Now what? Clearly we’re still too many,†DevoutlyApathetic explained. No more than thirty. There were fifty-one left among them, all told. “What should we do?â€
Only silence followed, until Plutonium came stumbling into view.
“WHO STOLE MY MINIGUN?!â€
Plutonium was red-faced and livid. He was holding absolutely nothing where only an hour before.
“How’d you lose it?†one asked.
“I have no idea. It was in my hands one moment and out of them the next. I…I didn’t even notice!â€
“God must not have wanted you to have it,†someone else said.
“Pshaw, that’s ludicrous . There is no ‘God’ here. There’s only us, with swords and guns and grabby fucking fingers. I swear to God, I’ll fong every one of you to death until I find out who stole my minigun!†Plutonium shouted and then mumbled, “I knew I should have brought my forensics analysis kit with me from PAXville…â€
“Oh you will, will you? ‘Fong’ all of us, you say?â€
“Yeah and why’re you swearing to God if he ain’t here, dipshit?â€
“I WANT MY MINIGUN!†Plutonium stamped his feet and walked in random circles, occasionally looking up and glaring at one defender or another. “WE’RE SUPPOSED TO BE HELPING EACH OTHER! WHY WOULD YOU STEAL MY MINIGUN? WHY?!?!?!â€
“Here.†real_pocaccho handed Plutonium his minigun back. “Look, I didn’t steal it, and I’m not going to tell you who did, but you can have it back. Do us all a favor, though, and go ‘fong’ yourself.â€
“DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHO YOU ARE DEALING WITH? DO YOU?!?!??!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!!?!?!?!?!?!?!?â€
Plutonium had clearly lost it.
And everyone else was starting to get riled up too.
“Well, as much of a dick as I think he is,†B:L said, “he kind of has a point.†For some reason, B:L had a subtle but wicked grin on his face.
“A point? No, he has a gun. ‘His’ gun, back in his hands, because he’s a baby. He had a point…that Wakazashi in his belt, but that wasn’t good enough for him, was it!â€
“WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE TALKING TO!!!!†Plutonium spat. But then he realized how futile it was. “Wait, you know what? Forget it, I’m sorry.â€
But it was too late. Everyone was up in arms over this minigun and the arguments were heated. Some of the smarter in the bunch realized that this was just pretense…and excuse to thin the herd. Which is exactly what started to happen.
“If that’s how you all feel, I guess I will damn you all to Hell!â€
“For someone that doesn’t believe in God, this yokel keeps talking in religious terms,†UEAK Crash said.
“YOKEL?!?!?!†With that, Plutonium trained his minigun on the crowd and opened fire. Zek, Stew_Stick, UEAK Crash, Burnage, Ultarune, and Varcayn immediately charged him. Zek’s cattle prod floppd out in front of him, UEAK Crash held his Wakasashi high overhead, and Varcayn ran ahead with his plasma rifle. Burnage started firing at Plutonium’s face with his assault rifle, while Stew_Stick and Ultarune closed the distance with their super sledgehammer and flamethrowers, respectively.
Plutonium, mad with rage, could not aim with all the fire burning in his eyes, but he still managed to chew through Stew_Stick, UEAK Crash, and Ultarune, and even accidentally hit Cheez with a few bullets before they managed to take him down. Zek was especially brutal and seemed to go into a bloodlust rage. He pulled Plutonium’s hair and, somehow, popped his head right off his neck.
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! Can’t use your minigun anymore, can you? CAN YOU?†Zek started drooling and threw Plutonium’s head square at Maximus. Maximus recoiled as Zek ran over and cattle-prodded him into a crispy mess. “TAKE THAT!â€
MrBlarney shrugged and decided to use up some of the plasma he’d been chugging around. Might as well, I’m just going to have to sit out here anyway, aren’t I? Throwing a grenade, he managed to take out both Damned Librarian and evilbob.
real_poccacho wasn’t happy about all this either and decided to take it out on DasUberEdward with his 10mm SMG. DasUberEdward’s friend was generally a nice guy, but the sight of his friend getting smashed up by a torrent of bullets changed him a bit. One plasma bolt from niceguy myeye’s rifle and real_poccacho was down, too. “An eye for an eye, even for a niceguy,†he riffed.
Cheez’s right leg had been blown off by Plutonium. The pain was immense. He asked is anyone would help end his suffering. “Please. Please! This is…too much.â€
“All I have are these plasma grenades…†Unearthly Stew said.
“Fine, fine, give me one.â€
“Wh-what? Why? What are you going to do?â€
“Just give me one! Please!â€
Unearthly Stew was shaken, but he looked at the stump that used to be cheez’s leg and relented. “Fine. Here.â€
cheez took the grenade, pulled the pin, winked at Unearthly Stew, and swallowed it.
“Holy shit!†Unearthly Stew exclaimed, just as cheez’s body erupted and melted organs flew from his mangled body.
The fighting had started to die down after that. But only until Bliss 101 walked over to the group and sat down. “You look pissed, Locus.â€
“I am.â€
“Why?â€
“Well, have you read this book?†Locus took something out of his knapsack.
Bliss 101 read the title with wide eyes. “Yes, yes, I have, put it away.â€
“Yeah, me too,†Locus said, putting the Book of Rage away. It kind of gets me fired up.
“Well, me too, but I try not to think about it too much.â€
“I can’t help it. I can’t! I just can’t!â€
Locus pulled the book out again, stared at its cover, and shoved it into Bliss 101’s face, breaking his jaw apart. He then repeatedly slammed his fist into the book until half of his skull had sprung back and his corpse toppled over.
Locus then picked up a twig, collected some of Bliss’s blood, and scrawled a note about the death into the book. “So it is written in the Book of Rage.â€
Zek was on a rampage, slapping everyone in the face with this cattle prod but not managing to kill anyone. Finally everyone got tired and just sat on him until his ribs broke and his insides were squashed.
Meanwhile, FrostMist took his Tommy Gun out and fired a few rounds at Jpants whose power fists couldn’t save him.
Durax, on the other hand, had set up his light support weapon on the outskirts at the beginning of all this and was just biding his time. He decided to have some fun. Oatway would have disagreed that this was “fun†if he’d survived the heavy stream of bullets that Durax focused on him.
“Whew,†MrBlarney said. “Okay, I think that’s it. Let me pull my spreadsheet out and I’ll tally up the deaths.†He looked at his watch. “As of 126 seconds ago, we had forty-seven caravaners left. Now, we have…â€
Some neutrals came up, then, and decided they’d had enough of the MrBlarney’s lists. They took his calculator, they took his spreadsheet, and they took their guns to his face. “Wait, we won’t win, we still have thirty-f-“ But it was too late. They pistol whipped his jaw into a broken mess after which he could only spit blood and crumple to the earth.
“Wait a minute,†Romantic Undead suddenly thought, has anyone been keeping an eye on Last Son? And whatever happened to Shamus?
He turned his head away from the fray toward the vault gates and couldn’t believe it. Last Son had slipped around and outflanked them, but he wasn’t even gunning for them…he was heading straight for Group D and, even worse, Shamus was with him!
“Wait, all, wait!†Romantic Undead tried screaming, but the cacophony muffled his speech. “Fuck it! Coregoon, c’mon. We’re supposed to be watching the children.â€
Romantic Undead and Coregoon started running toward Group D, whom they had both abandoned to deal with the caravaners’ bickering. It wasn’t easy, to run at top speed while pointing a Tommy Gun, but somehow Coregoon managed, and caught Shamus right in the face with the brunt of the burst, while Shamus’ screams filled the air. “That’s fitting, you fucking traitor. WHEN WILL YOU LEARN?â€
Last Son smiled. “Ah, Romantic Undead, Coregoon, you are both just in time.â€
“J-just in time? N-no, wait!â€
“Watch.â€
The children were frightened and seemed to have forgotten they were armed. In fact, the entire vault population seemed to be engrossed in what was happening half a mile away while the caravaners bickered among themselves. Nobody noticed Last Son menacing the children, or Romantic Undead’s attempt to stop him.
Last Son and Romantic Undead stared each other down. What Romantic Undead hadn’t known was that Last Son had apprenticed as a weaponsmith back home. He hadn’t fired yet because he never intended too. Without warning, Last Son slammed his fist on his plasma rifle and threw it, hard, into the middle of the pack of children. Before they could even react, the rifle tore apart, sending hot plasma in a wide circle around them, transmogrifying their small, fleshy bodies into peach- and green-colored putty.
It only took Romantic Undead one startled second to realize that he, too, was armed. He raised his rifle and aimed a shot right between Last Son’s eyes, who melted screamlessly into the puddle of children his violence had wrought.
B:L looked over as a green flash hit the periphery of his vision, and saw DevoutlyApathetic staring over a melted Rear Admiral Choco, plasma rifle at the ready. He ran over.
“What the FUCK did you just do, DevoutlyApathetic,†B:L asked. “Are you crazy?!â€
DevoutlyApathetic looked at B:L. “No, why? He attacked me! See?†DevoutlyApathetic pointed as a scratch on his face.
B:L ignored him. “First, precisionk, now Rear Admiral Choco. That’s it, buddy. You’re done.†He was surprisingly fast with his super sledge, and DevoutlyApathetic’s frail body broke under its heft.
B:L shrugged and walked back to the caravaners.
The remaining Vault 7 denizens had retreated back into the hallway, leaving their protectors standing around outside.
B:L came back and did a quick count. “More than thirty. Shit.â€
“Dammit, we have thirty-two left? Maybe they can squeeze us in.â€
“Doubtful.â€
Still, they all gathered by the Vault 7 doors, hopeful while its citizens stalked back inside, tired and crying at the violence brought upon them by this group of ruffians.
The Overseer and Overseer Matriarch came to Vault 7’s massive door.
“Thank you, but…you appear to have too many.â€
“We know. But…and I don’t mean to sound insensitive…you’ve lost some people. Surely you have room for the two extra people we have?â€
“You are quite right, that we have additional room. You are also quite right that such a suggestion is insensitive. Thus, we must rescind our offer. I am sorry. To be quite frank, after all that has happened, we need time to grieve and rebuild. Never did we believe such a thing could happen, and the presence of even one of you here would be highly disruptive.
“Please leave.â€
The Overseer looked anguished. He had managed to keep the vault he oversaw from falling into enemy hands, but at such a cost. More than seventy dead, most of them children. The robots could be rebuilt, their personalities transferred. But the children. And the families… Broken.
The caravaners walked away, heads bent low. Thirty-two. Did they do the right thing? Should they have stayed together and stormed the vault with the others, killing men, women, humans, ghouls, mutants, robots, adults, and children, the healthy and the sick, all with impunity, just to secure their own future?
Maybe. Maybe they did, maybe they didn’t. They continued walking east, hoping to escape this nameless plague. What was it? What would befall them if they couldn’t get far enough away?
* * *
Far to the west, preparations were being made.
Soon. Soon…
Deaths tonight:
Bliss 101
cheez
DamnedLibrarian
DasUberEdward
DevoutlyApathetic
evilbob
JPants
Last Son
Maximus
MrBlarney
Oatway
Plutonium
real_pochacco
Rear Admiral Choco
Shamus
Stew_Stick
UEAKCrash
Ultarune
Zek
Those who faded away in the wastelands:
B:L
Burnage
Buzz Buzz
cj iwakura
CoreGoon
Daius
durax
El Skid
Fembot
FrostMist
giltanis
hesthefastest
Hylianbunny
Infidel
Lightor216
Locus
lonelyahava
Marshmallow
Mr. Defecation
Niceguy Myeye
Nion
PsychoLarry1
Quoth
Rend
Romantic Undead
TheLawinator
Trust
UEAK Carnage
Unearthly Stew
Varcayn
Wildcat
Zellpher
Stand firm next time you jerks.
*reads*
Thank you all for playing and bearing with us (well, me) through my sickness and slowness.
Thank you, especially, to Ardor for putting up with my snarly, sickly attitude for the past two weeks.
I seriously hope everyone enjoyed playing!
I'll try to bold and color names tomorrow. It's like 10 pages long and didn't have the strength to do anymore tonight. Sorry.
Hindsight?
Try again
So what's the final verdict? Everybody loses, I guess. But was that because there were too many people left alive, including neutrals? Or was it destiny that we would be turned away?
Seems like you're kind of bitter? Sorry... but I just wasn't really invested in the game and didn't analyze the situation well enough. That was the direction things were going, and I went along with the flow. So if you want to blame me, go ahead. But I'm not the only one. *sigh*
What is this nameless plague? I've never played Fallout.
Please let us know what you thought about the game and the mechanics and such we tried. We had a great deal of new things we wanted to try out and we wanted your feedback on how they panned out in reality versus on paper for us.
Thanks again, we hope you had fun these past 2 weeks.
That sucks. Oh well, at least VH and DA are dead. My friends have been avenged. *whistles as he walks off into the sunset*
It really does, there's no excuse for that.
Hmm? I'm not sure what you mean, but I'll have to address it tomorrow, sorry. Need to go to bed.
I enjoyed this Phalla - one suggestion though, it would have been handy (at least for me) if the things that were clarified throughout the thread were linked from one of the initial posts, or added to it.
Yeah, don't worry about it. Get your rest and get well soon...for Phallout 2. ;-)
I think I was the only one that scored power armor, so me?
Good job getting it off me, I thought my steal skill would protect me from that.
1) The vault inhabitants retained control of the vault (took less than 80% casualties) and there were 30 or less players alive.
2) The vault inhabitants lost control of the vault (80% casualties) and then the winning side by numbers wins.
Very, very few people voted to kill the neutrals.
In the end, the vault inhabitants would not wait another day and closed off the vault, leaving you all to perish in the wasteland.
The neutrals effectively helped with 0/2 win conditions by doing nothing.
Had I survived and we'd have taken the vault, I'd have a written a post-game RP where my robot becomes a teacher of the surviving children in order to indoctrinate them into his wacky robotic beliefs. At first I was going to end it with the beginning of a story about Gumpy the Martyr, but then while waiting for the narration I realized that me opening the Book of Rage would be a far more awesome ending.
Shame on the rest of you, dying a slow death from the coming plague is what you deserve.
This game was a blast to play in, even considering my schedule left little time to keep up with the entire thread.
Not to sound spiteful, but I'm glad you bastards lost. Well, at least those who decided to turn traitor and join the vault.
I didn't steal anything, I tried to kill Plutonium with the rest, failed, and the next day I had some Power Armor in my pack. I just assumed that I killed somebody else instead, since I also used all my plasma grenades.
As a caravaner, I am so deeply disappointed in the outcome. We could have made it! We could have been a contender!
That many people voted to leave the neutrals alone? Weren't the neutrals "leaving", effectively committing suicide? O_o
Look at it this way. The Vault Dweller not making it back into his Vault was what led to Fallout 2. ;-)
Hi5!
So awesome. We're child-killing bastards.
Leaving wasn't an option. I stated in the last narration that people have to vote in their PM to me, which some did but most did not, whether or not to kill the neutrals. 50% or more of the winning team had to vote YEA for killing neutrals and it would have been done.
Abstaining from that vote means you won't do it.
Ah, that would explain it. I thought it was just a majority of whoever actually voted.
Great game, btw, Ardor and Drez. This was something unique, and I wouldn't mind seeing it again.
Yeees. But, I LIVE!!!
*cough*
Hey, maybe we can even get a list of "survivors" when Drez is feeling better. ;-)
I failed to protect the children.