What The World Became

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Requiem, Jan 8, 2014.

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  1. OOC Thread


    It was hot. It was always hot. The sun beat down on the worn out shack in the middle of the desert. Surrounded by nothing, it was a miracle the place was still standing at all. Ever so slightly, the rusted metal door inched open as a pair of eyes glanced out, searching the wastes for fluttering wings. The Outsider had taken refuge inside after nearly being overwhelmed by Cazadores not long before that. He hated the things. Giant stinging hellbeasts was what they were.

    Listening, there was no sound. Requiem let out a light sigh and stepped out, taking a quick glance around. He'd been wandering for two weeks now, collecting water where he could, and trying to keep from getting too irradiated. He generally stuck to safe foods. One could never tell how much poison was in the environment, and he intended to keep himself alive. The Outsider reached into his pocket and pulled out what was left of his old Power Bar, and took a healthy chunk out of it. It had the consistency of gravel and tasted about the same, but that was to be expected of food more than a century old.

    Requiem took count of where the sun was in the sky and closed the door of the shack again. Only a few more hours until it would be dark enough to travel safely. He set his rifle down on the bed and opened the old refrigerator, hoping to find something in there that wasn't there before. There was no such luck however, just an old can of SPAM, some dirty looking water, and a block of dried gecko that he'd put in there earlier. The Cabin had been pretty much bare, but somehow still seemed to be keeping electricity. The NCR was still pumping energy from the Dam to anyplace that would take it, and he was glad for it. Underground powerlines kept the entire state going, even out in the wastes.

    The building hadn't been completely devoid of value though. The Gambler had found some bottle caps tucked under a corner of the bed, and a med-kit held one of the most valuable things a Wastelander could hope to find, a few cases of Rad-Away, and a Stimpack. He didn't know how they'd been overlooked, but he wasn't going to argue with his luck.

    The only thing left to do until nightfall was to write, so he pulled out his Journal and flipped to the nearest blank page.

    Journal Entry 147

    It's not looking too good. Nearest town's pretty far away. Lost a lot of time to them damn Cazadores out past Black Claw Ridge. Got lucky though and found this shack. Marked it on the map just in case I ever need it again, or if someone finds my body out here. Might do them more good than me. It could be worse though, the bed's not too bad, all things considered. Doesn't look like anybody's been out this way for quite some time though. Might be a good place to call a storehouse. Have to check in on it again once I get to Lost Trails.

    How long's it been since I left New Vegas anyway? It seems like it's been forever. Two years goes by pretty fast I guess. Happy Anniversary, right? I find myself wondering how everyone's doing in the Vault a lot lately. The Old Man's probably out of his mind still. Don't know why he can't see that we need to keep exploring. We have to rebuild the world, but no, not him, he'd rather hide underground and pretend that that's all that we've got. Damn I miss the place though.

    Still, it's not all bad. Got the caps rolling in back in Eureka. Can't believe how easy it was to set up a Casino out there. Business is already rolling in. Good business. Guess everybody's just been looking for a way to forget about their problems. May as well take a chance while they do it.

    Oh, I almost forgot, a Courier caught up to me a week or so ago. Probably should have mentioned that first, as that's what's got me on this fool mission. Lost Trails is looking for some new blood in the area. Plenty of opportunity for a gambling man such as myself. Looks like they've got Couriers just handing out flyers to anyone they meet. Still, seems legit, so I'm gonna check it out. Might be some interesting people there.

    Hopefully I can avoid the Legion the rest of the way there. Ran into a patrol three days ago. Killed them before they had a chance to report back. Never had a chance. Looked like assassins on their way to kill someone. Might have been me for all I know, but I doubt it. Still, have to be careful. The Bull's got eyes everywhere. Collected their gear that could be of value, their cash, there weapons, left them their armour though. I'm not a savage. One of them had a 44. Magnum. I think I'll keep that.

    Gonna catch some Z's before nightfall hits. I'll write more later, if I'm still alive.

    The Outsider closed the Journal, stuffed it back inside his jacket pocket, and took a quick drink from the whiskey flask sitting on the table. It had been a long day, and he was ready for it to be over. He walked over to the door, double checked that it was locked, made his way over to the ragged looking mattress, set his Pip-Boy to wake him up in three hours, and slept.
    #1 Requiem, Jan 8, 2014
    Last edited: Jan 8, 2014
  2. It had been nightfall for only a few minutes, but it was plenty of time for the wildlife to claim the lands again. Giant ants roamed the desert with the Radscorpions, while the mountainous areas nearby were littered with the geckos who walked on their two hind legs. None of them were fun to run into, especially considering most traveled in packs. While one Radscorp wasn't much to worry over, half a dozen could take down a trained Wastelander. Ana Sophia was most definitely not trained. In fact, she had only been out in the Wastelands for six nights and she was all ready nearing death. The heat was the worst, especially with the lack of water. Since she left her vault, she hadn't run into a single person. No merchants, no travelers, no towns. What distraught her the most was that she hadn't found her brother, either.

    As the moon rose taller into the sky, Ana continued to tread through the sand, her legs barely moving when her mind told them to. Her lips were dry and cracked, splitting in several places. The blood was also dry, causing more severe cracks in her small, thin lips. "Sit," she called out to nobody but herself. Just as she was lowering herself to the ground for a break, something scurried from behind a sand dune. Immediately her senses were alert, eyes scanning the small horizon to her left. It could have been West, but she wasn't sure which direction she was walking anymore. For all she knew, she may have walked in a circle.

    With an unsatisfied grunt, Ana hoisted herself upward, eyes never leaving the dune. On cue, two large paws came over the sand, followed by an atrocious snout and a growl that froze her blood in place. It was some sort of dog, except it was larger and the muzzle looked like it had gotten stuck in a rotted coconut. She had no idea what the thing was, but when three others joined it, she didn't really care to find out. Unfortunately, she was going to.

    The first one soared into the air, heading right for the spot she was in. Unsheathing her first dagger along her belt, she readied herself. Apparently she had pushed herself to her limits, though, as the dog-like creature easily toppled her. Within seconds, the others were there. Blocking her face with her arms, she felt a chunk of her left arm being ripped away just as her right leg and her left hip went numb from pain. Her dagger slashed and slashed, but if it caught anything, they didn't react.

    Despite knowing it would bring other predators, Ana knew her chances at survival would be slim either way. She screamed, alerting anything within several yards of her predicament.


    Trudging along the Wasteland, Trent headed southwest in search for his little sister. When he had arrived back at the vault two days ago, the only ones left were rotting with disease. If he didn't know his sister would always carry the ring with her, he wouldn't have known if she was one of them. Thankfully, her ring and dagger were not on anyone in the vault. As he was leaving, one of the last survivors pointed toward the vault. Though he wasn't sure if they were pointing for their own freedom or to let him know his sister had left, he had hope it was the latter.

    Trent crawled down an embankment just as he spotted a lone shack. Granted, a shack wasn't all that wonderful, but out in the Wasteland, it could definitely give you another day's survival. He neared the shack cautiously, sword at his side and a revolver in his hands.

    "Hello," he called out as loudly as he dared, "Anyone there?" When nobody and nothing replied, her crept to the door, lightly shoving it ajar. He peeked his head in, relieved to see it empty. Trent slid inside and shut the door, locking it before he began to search. A stove that still worked, running water in the sink, and a couple bags of potato crisps.

    As he searched under the bed, he was lucky to find a dose of Rad-X pills and a Super Stimpak. As he read the radiation levels for the water in the sink, he was happy to note it was only a dozen rads. Definitely safe enough to drink on occasion. Content he found a good place to shelter, he relaxed onto the bed.
    #2 sincere_and_silent, Jan 8, 2014
    Last edited by a moderator: Jan 8, 2014
  3. Darkness fell upon the land, and not far from his shack, The Outsider wandered. He had to keep a good pace, or he'd never make it to town. Things never go the way they're supposed to though. As he made his way through the blackened terrain, the piercing scream of someone in pain broke the air. He had no way of knowing who or what made the sound, but in this environment, he could wager a guess. Wayward travellers often found themselves on the bad side of the local fauna. With a sigh, he unstrapped his rifle and turned to the source of the scream, looking down the scope.

    What he saw came as no surprise to him. Nightstalkers, tearing into what appeared to be a young girl. He couldn't in good conscience leave her to her fate. With a practised movement, he dropped to one knee, took aim, and fired, and fired again, and again, and again. Each shot targeted carefully with the intent purpose to kill instantly. He could see the spray of blood down the scope and knew that he'd been at the least, successful. If there were any left alive, the sudden wound from an unknown aggressor would send them running.

    Quickly, he made his way towards the girl, he'd have to get her back to the shack if she was going to live. Other predators were no doubt on their way to the location as well, and he didn't feel like facing off against the entire Mojave
  4. The vault was busy, extra busy. Rose was one of the many doctors that lived in vault 121, Her patient had broke her leg 3 months ago, leading to the bone healing wrong. Rose knew her appearance made the wastelander uncomfortable due to her shifting away from her every so often. "We have to rebreak it, Do you have anywhere safe to stay?" Rose knew the girl didn't, but it was a standard question when speaking to patients. The young girls face was coverd in dirt, she was small, showing so barly ate. Her lips where dry showing lack of water, with out another word rose signaled for another doctor to ready her for her treatment. "She also needs a vault room, no where safe to go" The doctor noded and asked the patient to sit, then rolled her away. Rose normally did records, considering she knew many old world methods. With a check of her clipbored rose sighed, it was time for her trip to Trevor.


    Trevor sat in his room, listing. Today wasn't one of his bad days, the voices where quiet, he saw nothing out of the ordinary. Trevors friend would shortly arrive, giving him his weekly meds. Trevor knew vault 121 didn't have what he needed, so his friend ventured out, looking for them. She had just recently raided a old world Hospital, leading her to anti psychotic meds, but was force to put down a group of waste Landers who refused to hand them over. Trevor made his way to the living room, a small broke coffee table sat next to a old raggedy couch. A small light dangled from the living room roof. No windows layed in his house, with little to no light Trevor hated that. Laying on his old couch he drifted to sleep, in hopes his friend makes it here alive.
  5. "Aww, hell, mate, put the blinds back down." Sean hated the sun. He hated the sand. He hated the heat, the desolation, and those damn Geckos. Sitting up in bed, he quickly did a mental run-through of everything--who he was, where he was, what he should have with him, and who the bitch that just woke him was. It was early morning outside, And the sun wasn't that high, but it was high enough to reach the second story window of the room he had taken for the night. "Hell, Marcy." Marcy just grunted at him and left. Not a nice girl, Marcy Littlefellow. He hadn't had the time to get to know her that well, but from the little he gathered she was a brute. Well, it was time to leave this damned town, anyway.

    "Alright, I've paid my caps for the room, got my share from that old man, purchased supplies... Alright. Time to be off." And bloody good riddance.
  6. Rose was out of her doctors coat, now replacing it was a bullet proof vest, and a pair of old world blue jeans. Rose carried a knife at her side, due to the lack of fire arm training. With that her bag hald 4 Stimpacks, and a week supply of food and water, just to be safe. The trip would take nearly 5 hours on foot, and thats with out rose running into trouble. Trevors meds layed in her pocket, due to rarity. Off she was, walking across the once beautiful world, trying to save lives. Rose never liked the heat, especially now. Rose remembers the old worlds winters, full of snow, then there was Christmas. Shaking away memories rose stopped, listing. With a faint growl a pack of wild dogs arrived, blocking her path.
    #6 Rainbowwave, Jan 10, 2014
    Last edited by a moderator: Jan 11, 2014
  7. One by one the biting furry fiends fell as a small pop let off in the distance. For just a moment after they all fell, Ana laid still, uncertain if she should get up for fear of being the next target. As the blood began to pool around her, she decided to stand. A bit wobbly, the young girl rose, hands in the air to show she wasn't a threat. Through the dark, she scanned her surroundings but saw nobody. Her rescuer was obscured by the night.

    "Thank you," weakly she called. "I'm just sheathing my weapon." Somehow she only managed to receive four bites and a few scratches from her ordeal. While she watched eagerly for a response from her savior, Ana reached down to grab her dagger and replaced it in her belt.


    A few hundred miles away, Trent snored happily away in his cozy shed.
  8. "Thank you, I'm just sheathing my weapon."

    Requiem nodded, keeping his eyes out for others creatures that might attack. "Can you walk?" He asked, cautiously grabbing a pair of dead nightstalkers by their hind legs. They didn't taste very good, and had some radiation in them, but they could save a person from starving out in the wastes, and their blood could be synthesized as an anti-venom if one had the rest of the materials. "There's a shack not far from here where we can take a look at your wounds." He told her as he approached the rest of the way.

    She had the standard vault dweller's clothing on, Vault 27. He had no idea what vault that was or where it was, but she certainly didn't look like she fit out in the wastes. She didn't seem to have any experience at all out there, and he wasn't sure quite why she'd left the vault, but he figured he'd best keep her safe. There were worse things out there than Nightstalkers.
  9. Roses eyes showed no fear as the wild animals surrounded her. With quickness roses knife priced the luge of the nearest dog, then she took off, her vault shoes where not meant for running but she didn't care, with high hopes and low survival chance she called out, "Help! Shoot those Fu*ckers! I need help!" She didn't care who heard, she needed help, from anyone.
    Trevors eyes filled with blood as he killed the raider, blinding him. "Dam, body." The voices woke him, damanding new blood and wanting it now, so trevor left town to kill a newly formed raider gang, better for the world one said, killing is fun said another. Every gang member layed dead in the sound of night, then he heard the cry for help. He walked out into the open with meat laid at his feet. "Rose! My dear friend! Over here!" With a sudden stop the dogs sinffed the air, then ran to the meat. Trevor layed ready to cut the animels in half, he hald a meat clever.
    #9 Rainbowwave, Jan 13, 2014
    Last edited by a moderator: Jan 16, 2014
  10. Cautiously she shook her head, her leg was injured pretty badly. He reached down and offered her his shoulder to lean on. Together, they made their way back to the shack. Once inside, he laid her down on the bed, and began dressing her wounds. "What are you doing out here, miss?" He asked.
  11. Trevor cut the attacking dogs with force, one jumped in armpit to kill him, thankfully it didn't. The dog lied dead beneath the four others. Trevor swung with force, the clever didn't stop till meeting the dogs spin, knocking the to the ground dead. Trevors arms now hald large bite marks, one dog left the fighting pray to eat one of its fallen pack members. Trevor was tried now, drops of sweat driped from his forhead, blood covred his clothes. Swinging yet again Trevor hit a dog, it has just bit him, the clever met with the animals skull, with a loud yulp the dog was done, Lieing in a small puddle of blood. ~~~~~~~~~~~~
    Rose was rather far when she heard Trevor, the animals on her ankles have taken off towards her unstable friend. Rose could see the blood bath of animals as she ran towards Trevor, grabing her knife from her side rose prepared to jump. The dog was well aware of danger now, turning it ran towards rose, only to be grabed and repeatly slashed by Trevor. With no danger in sight rose stopped, she stood quietly before speaking to her friend. "You hear them again dont you?" Trevor hald a bloodly clever, while his baby blue t-shirt was covered in fresh blood, his pants lied with red stains.
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