ok guys im new to this thing if u think it sucks just tell me.
why do i get a bad feeling im gonna get called a dumbass??
Fallout: frayed futures.
NOTE
This is the first fictional writing I have done in a long time so you’ll have to excuse any minor mistakes in here. I can but try eh??
Part 1
Highwaymen
‘The vault dweller had the master,
The chosen had the president,
you Mic, you got that highwayman. It’s not that far to NCR anyhow’ stated Dave, who prided himself on razor wit. ‘besides if you think I’m gonna’ help you push that hunka’junk into town you got another thing coming sunny’. He finished, turning to begin the 12 mile hike to the NCR border. ‘man just needs to have some faith’ Mic said half to himself half to the disappearing shape of dave.
Dave’s march of martyrdom had lasted about 4 hours before any signs of humanity had poked its fragile hand out of the wastes. Unfortunately enough for Dave this hand carried a branding iron and some severe firepower.
‘ahh hell!’ dave screamed diving for the nearest hiding space, which in another inspired bout of poor luck was little more than the next dune along. The jeep, spikes protruding from enough spaces that gave the idea that there was nothing friendly about the drivers, pulled up under a minute later.
‘we know your out there’ slaver 1 shouted out the door as he stepped clear. ‘We’ll go easy on you if you come quiet’ added 2. Both where desperately confused as to how the man who had darted across the ridge moments ago had manage to up and disappear so fast. Scanning the dune quickly answered that. Down in the middle of the dune was the hulking shape of an old pre-war car, long since busted beyond repair. Half running half skiing the slavers headed for the dark shape in the burning sand, hungry with the prospect of making themselves another payday so close to home.
Mic picked up the slavers trail not long after completing repairs on the highwayman, and the wastes not being given to terrain features gave him little else to look for bar signs of his hot head partner. The cloud of sand given off by the slavers jeep was visible for miles around. ‘Maybe he got a lift’ he posed as he drove off towards what he was hoping was a caravan headed for NCR.
Now close enough that he could hear their footsteps, Dave decided it was a now or never call on the slaver twins. Thumbing the safety off on his customized H&K MP5 he jumped up ready to face whatever painful end he was in for. What happened next would haunt Dave for the rest of his life. Before he could so much as think about pulling the trigger slaver 1’s face exploded into a could of blood, brains and bone.
Both too shocked to move slaver 2 and Dave looked down at the grotesque visage that the blood had etched on the sand.
By the time slaver 2 had figured out that whoever just shot spike would be gunning for him it was too late, and before he could turn to run a hole the size of a fist was blown out of his chest in the vague area where his heart should be. What was to haunt poor Dave from now until his dying day. Was not why had the slavers chosen that fortuitous moment to spontaneously explode, that was easy, the hard part was why when shot in the chest did slaver 2 reach for his nuts? Some things never seemed quite the same after that. Suppose even when your going to die you have to keep your priorities straight. After pondering that for moment Dave looked up to see what he had been expecting, up there on a ridge was the silhouette of a man holding a rifle at least a good mile away, ‘I swear ill never insult that car again’
‘I’m tellin’ you boss, these things are a work of art’ Tim looked up from his latest invention to look at the badge on the engineers shirt ‘thanx earl’ he said and smiled at the man he had just paid a fortune to mill the parts for the evaporators. ‘well it all looks in order was a pleasure doing business with you’ he said as he shook hands with the grubby man. What had made the new evaporator he had laid out in front of him different to any other was the ability to filter out the ambient radiation from the wastes. This was something Tim was positive had to be a breakthrough. After all his last idea to store all the water in a lead container was theoretically sound, wasn’t it?
Before long he’d stepped out to start installing the last parts on the ‘vaporators in the test fields
. He was putting in the parts to the fourth near the gate of the city when he spotted the craziest contraption he’d ever seen thundering over NCR towards his home, and to his surprise stopped there and began to descend. The contraption as he was to learn was called a vertibird, and it belonged to the brotherhood of steel.
++++++++
When mic had made it down to where Dave was he’d already pretty much stripped the two bodies looking for anything of value. There was a rather decent amount of cash in the jeep, along with plenty of ammo for damn near any gun in circulation around here. Dave took the pankor jackhammer from slaver 1s cold hand, ‘I’ve wanted one of these from ages’ he shouted to mic as he pulled up. On inspection it was obvious Dave had done this before, things where piled up with a grim organization around the two bodies. Mic scanned the piles nodding as he did, ‘hell of a take’ ‘your telling me’ Dave nodded in agreement ‘I kept this back as a surprise’ Dave said as he opened the door to the jeep, inside was a whole crate of .50 cal bullets for his rifle, and a brand new scope set up, both with brotherhood logos painted on the side. For a moment Mic’s heart sank, where these guys brotherhood? That could make for all flavours of bad news. As it happened it turned out to be quite the opposite, in the glove compartment where a pair of brotherhood ID cards with pictures of people who where clearly not the slavers now dead on the sand. To drive the point fully home in the trunk of the jeep where two full sets of combat armour the first missing most of the chest the second just covered in blood, a few days old at least.
once the pair had made it into NCR it became a little more clear why A: the two slavers where bolting from town and B: why there where the belongings of two dead brotherhood recruits in the back of the jeep. A brotherhood virtibird was sat at the south gate of NCR. As mic and dave drove into town there where a couple of seconds the both of them thought they wouldn’t get a chance to explain their story. When the two cars pulled up there was a definite unfriendly feel, it really is amazing how you can communicate emotions with firearms isn’t it?
'Afternoon gentlemen' Dave said to the mini-gun.
'Who are you and what are you doing here? replied the mini-gun
'I’m Dave and the fellow over there in the highwayman is Mic, we found these guys' Dave gestured to the mostly naked bodies strapped to the back of the jeep
‘out in the wastes and there’s something I think you should see' the mini-gun gestured in the kindest possible manner that Dave should continue.
In as unthreatening manner as he could manage Dave made his way over to the trunk. Popped it and waited for the high pitched whine of the mini-gun spinning to pump him full of FMJ death.
Failing that Dave re-opened his eyes and handed over the two ID cards from the glove compartment.
a few seconds later Mr. mini-gun was replaced by the even more disdainful Mr. M60.
'The brotherhood thanks you for your assistance at bringing these men to justice, we would be grateful if you would return all brotherhood property to the quartermaster' M60 indicated to the only visible brotherhood member without armour on. ''you may keep all the belongings of the murderers and I’m sure for a small fee you will be able to keep anything you have taken a shining to' Dave started off the jeep and made his way over to the quartermaster amazed at his bladder control.
By the time Mic and Dave had found a bed for the night they had become quite rich men. Seems those slavers had a kings ransom in loot on them. Sat in their rented room Dave was stripping down his Pankor and Mic was deftly attaching the new scope to his rifle.
‘you know, as much as I love running into the brotherhood you don’t normally see em running round the wastes, and you DEFINITELY don’t find ‘em at the gate of NCR on a weekly basis. What you recon they are up to?’ mic just stared at the back of Dave’s head through the rifle sight and pulled the trigger ‘I don’t know Dave and frankly, its probably in our best interests to steer well clear’ it was this statement Mic would remember for the rest of his life and wonder why he never listened to himself.
********
‘Mr pegg?’ asked a man in a suit that screamed lawyer once upon a time.
‘Yeah that’s me’ shouted Tim above the insanely loud roar of the rotor blades.
‘Mr peg I represent the brotherhood of steel, we would like to talk to you about working with the brotherhood on a pet project we have’ Tim just looked over the virtibird. ‘can we talk about this somewhere a little more quiet’ he shouted mere inches away from the suits ear and made his way to the house.
Once he’d closed the door Tim turned back to the “representative” ‘ ok so what is this pet project exactly?’ onto the table fell a laminated folder, inside where the drawings to what looked to be some kind of power house for vehicles. What you see here Mr. pegg is a new fusion engine. We plan to use it with a new batch of vehicles for production and re-sale to the people of the wastes. The only problem mr. peg…’ ‘is that the cooling system doesn’t work, right’ he asked eyebrow raised. ‘precisely, which is why we want your help.’ ‘ok so what is the deal’ the mans face changed, the expression giving the impression that this was THE deal there was no thinking about it. ‘You will be taken to the brotherhood research facility and work with the men there on this and other projects to benefit the people of our world’ ‘what you mean to say is, this is a permanent position’ again the expression changed to the kind of look a shark would have given its last meal ‘exactly Mr Pegg’ ‘I’m glad to see we understand each other’ if you would excuse me we have some business to take care of in the town you will have 24 hours to collect your things’ he looked down at his watch ‘well perhaps 22, good afternoon Mr Pegg’ as he left tim opened a bag to pack and under his breath he mumbled ‘your money or your life’.
why do i get a bad feeling im gonna get called a dumbass??
Fallout: frayed futures.
NOTE
This is the first fictional writing I have done in a long time so you’ll have to excuse any minor mistakes in here. I can but try eh??
Part 1
Highwaymen
‘The vault dweller had the master,
The chosen had the president,
you Mic, you got that highwayman. It’s not that far to NCR anyhow’ stated Dave, who prided himself on razor wit. ‘besides if you think I’m gonna’ help you push that hunka’junk into town you got another thing coming sunny’. He finished, turning to begin the 12 mile hike to the NCR border. ‘man just needs to have some faith’ Mic said half to himself half to the disappearing shape of dave.
Dave’s march of martyrdom had lasted about 4 hours before any signs of humanity had poked its fragile hand out of the wastes. Unfortunately enough for Dave this hand carried a branding iron and some severe firepower.
‘ahh hell!’ dave screamed diving for the nearest hiding space, which in another inspired bout of poor luck was little more than the next dune along. The jeep, spikes protruding from enough spaces that gave the idea that there was nothing friendly about the drivers, pulled up under a minute later.
‘we know your out there’ slaver 1 shouted out the door as he stepped clear. ‘We’ll go easy on you if you come quiet’ added 2. Both where desperately confused as to how the man who had darted across the ridge moments ago had manage to up and disappear so fast. Scanning the dune quickly answered that. Down in the middle of the dune was the hulking shape of an old pre-war car, long since busted beyond repair. Half running half skiing the slavers headed for the dark shape in the burning sand, hungry with the prospect of making themselves another payday so close to home.
Mic picked up the slavers trail not long after completing repairs on the highwayman, and the wastes not being given to terrain features gave him little else to look for bar signs of his hot head partner. The cloud of sand given off by the slavers jeep was visible for miles around. ‘Maybe he got a lift’ he posed as he drove off towards what he was hoping was a caravan headed for NCR.
Now close enough that he could hear their footsteps, Dave decided it was a now or never call on the slaver twins. Thumbing the safety off on his customized H&K MP5 he jumped up ready to face whatever painful end he was in for. What happened next would haunt Dave for the rest of his life. Before he could so much as think about pulling the trigger slaver 1’s face exploded into a could of blood, brains and bone.
Both too shocked to move slaver 2 and Dave looked down at the grotesque visage that the blood had etched on the sand.
By the time slaver 2 had figured out that whoever just shot spike would be gunning for him it was too late, and before he could turn to run a hole the size of a fist was blown out of his chest in the vague area where his heart should be. What was to haunt poor Dave from now until his dying day. Was not why had the slavers chosen that fortuitous moment to spontaneously explode, that was easy, the hard part was why when shot in the chest did slaver 2 reach for his nuts? Some things never seemed quite the same after that. Suppose even when your going to die you have to keep your priorities straight. After pondering that for moment Dave looked up to see what he had been expecting, up there on a ridge was the silhouette of a man holding a rifle at least a good mile away, ‘I swear ill never insult that car again’
‘I’m tellin’ you boss, these things are a work of art’ Tim looked up from his latest invention to look at the badge on the engineers shirt ‘thanx earl’ he said and smiled at the man he had just paid a fortune to mill the parts for the evaporators. ‘well it all looks in order was a pleasure doing business with you’ he said as he shook hands with the grubby man. What had made the new evaporator he had laid out in front of him different to any other was the ability to filter out the ambient radiation from the wastes. This was something Tim was positive had to be a breakthrough. After all his last idea to store all the water in a lead container was theoretically sound, wasn’t it?
Before long he’d stepped out to start installing the last parts on the ‘vaporators in the test fields
. He was putting in the parts to the fourth near the gate of the city when he spotted the craziest contraption he’d ever seen thundering over NCR towards his home, and to his surprise stopped there and began to descend. The contraption as he was to learn was called a vertibird, and it belonged to the brotherhood of steel.
++++++++
When mic had made it down to where Dave was he’d already pretty much stripped the two bodies looking for anything of value. There was a rather decent amount of cash in the jeep, along with plenty of ammo for damn near any gun in circulation around here. Dave took the pankor jackhammer from slaver 1s cold hand, ‘I’ve wanted one of these from ages’ he shouted to mic as he pulled up. On inspection it was obvious Dave had done this before, things where piled up with a grim organization around the two bodies. Mic scanned the piles nodding as he did, ‘hell of a take’ ‘your telling me’ Dave nodded in agreement ‘I kept this back as a surprise’ Dave said as he opened the door to the jeep, inside was a whole crate of .50 cal bullets for his rifle, and a brand new scope set up, both with brotherhood logos painted on the side. For a moment Mic’s heart sank, where these guys brotherhood? That could make for all flavours of bad news. As it happened it turned out to be quite the opposite, in the glove compartment where a pair of brotherhood ID cards with pictures of people who where clearly not the slavers now dead on the sand. To drive the point fully home in the trunk of the jeep where two full sets of combat armour the first missing most of the chest the second just covered in blood, a few days old at least.
once the pair had made it into NCR it became a little more clear why A: the two slavers where bolting from town and B: why there where the belongings of two dead brotherhood recruits in the back of the jeep. A brotherhood virtibird was sat at the south gate of NCR. As mic and dave drove into town there where a couple of seconds the both of them thought they wouldn’t get a chance to explain their story. When the two cars pulled up there was a definite unfriendly feel, it really is amazing how you can communicate emotions with firearms isn’t it?
'Afternoon gentlemen' Dave said to the mini-gun.
'Who are you and what are you doing here? replied the mini-gun
'I’m Dave and the fellow over there in the highwayman is Mic, we found these guys' Dave gestured to the mostly naked bodies strapped to the back of the jeep
‘out in the wastes and there’s something I think you should see' the mini-gun gestured in the kindest possible manner that Dave should continue.
In as unthreatening manner as he could manage Dave made his way over to the trunk. Popped it and waited for the high pitched whine of the mini-gun spinning to pump him full of FMJ death.
Failing that Dave re-opened his eyes and handed over the two ID cards from the glove compartment.
a few seconds later Mr. mini-gun was replaced by the even more disdainful Mr. M60.
'The brotherhood thanks you for your assistance at bringing these men to justice, we would be grateful if you would return all brotherhood property to the quartermaster' M60 indicated to the only visible brotherhood member without armour on. ''you may keep all the belongings of the murderers and I’m sure for a small fee you will be able to keep anything you have taken a shining to' Dave started off the jeep and made his way over to the quartermaster amazed at his bladder control.
By the time Mic and Dave had found a bed for the night they had become quite rich men. Seems those slavers had a kings ransom in loot on them. Sat in their rented room Dave was stripping down his Pankor and Mic was deftly attaching the new scope to his rifle.
‘you know, as much as I love running into the brotherhood you don’t normally see em running round the wastes, and you DEFINITELY don’t find ‘em at the gate of NCR on a weekly basis. What you recon they are up to?’ mic just stared at the back of Dave’s head through the rifle sight and pulled the trigger ‘I don’t know Dave and frankly, its probably in our best interests to steer well clear’ it was this statement Mic would remember for the rest of his life and wonder why he never listened to himself.
********
‘Mr pegg?’ asked a man in a suit that screamed lawyer once upon a time.
‘Yeah that’s me’ shouted Tim above the insanely loud roar of the rotor blades.
‘Mr peg I represent the brotherhood of steel, we would like to talk to you about working with the brotherhood on a pet project we have’ Tim just looked over the virtibird. ‘can we talk about this somewhere a little more quiet’ he shouted mere inches away from the suits ear and made his way to the house.
Once he’d closed the door Tim turned back to the “representative” ‘ ok so what is this pet project exactly?’ onto the table fell a laminated folder, inside where the drawings to what looked to be some kind of power house for vehicles. What you see here Mr. pegg is a new fusion engine. We plan to use it with a new batch of vehicles for production and re-sale to the people of the wastes. The only problem mr. peg…’ ‘is that the cooling system doesn’t work, right’ he asked eyebrow raised. ‘precisely, which is why we want your help.’ ‘ok so what is the deal’ the mans face changed, the expression giving the impression that this was THE deal there was no thinking about it. ‘You will be taken to the brotherhood research facility and work with the men there on this and other projects to benefit the people of our world’ ‘what you mean to say is, this is a permanent position’ again the expression changed to the kind of look a shark would have given its last meal ‘exactly Mr Pegg’ ‘I’m glad to see we understand each other’ if you would excuse me we have some business to take care of in the town you will have 24 hours to collect your things’ he looked down at his watch ‘well perhaps 22, good afternoon Mr Pegg’ as he left tim opened a bag to pack and under his breath he mumbled ‘your money or your life’.
