Welcome to my account! Most of the stuff posted here are just RPs/shits and giggles my friends and I post. This account is only run by one of us, though (ME!). I may not post too too often, but I'll see if I can make time.
It's... very much not what it was hyped up to be. Sure, RobCo's one of the best robotics companies in the pre-war and post-war US, but it also has its downsides and risks. Like low pay. And getting locked in a bunker after the bombs dropped and you have to scavenge for food inside and end up seeing half of the bunker get killed despite just being there to work on some terminals, and now you're a ghoul running a radio and a terminal in the now silent bunker full of either ferals locked in the lower levels or nonferals that don't like to talk to you much anymore.
...as you can see, I have a personal grudge.
-RobCo Employee #127 (Still never got that promised raise)
The moon was full and high in the sky, illuminating the soft dirt below our protagonist’s feet. String lights lit the fronts of closed stores and restaurants, making them appealing despite being unable to go inside of them. They passed people sleeping out on the streets, though sleeping on the street wasn't necessarily a bad thing. A safe place to lay their head is all the people needed, even if it was on a sleeping bag or a stolen mattress. And Deer Grove was one of the safest places out in their barren world. Not many could afford houses, or rent rooms in their local hotel, The Grand Cochon, so it was essentially the best and only option. Vincent chuckled as they passed said hotel, knowing that ‘cochon’ meant ‘pig’ in English. So, the hotel’s name would really be ‘The Grand Pig.’ But, he didn’t have the heart to tell anyone he knew that.
The further the detective duo got from the center of town, the less appealing it became. Store fronts were destroyed, windows, walls, and floors were littered with bullet shells and shattered glass. Janie started walking a bit closer to Vincent, relying on him and his gun to protect her. The robot started to tense up a bit. He didn’t mind the outskirts, as that was where he lived before they portrayed him as a high and mighty hero, but it always kept him on his toes. He knew how people there lived their lives. There were people who sold drugs, people who killed for a price, and the ones who ended up dead. Of course, there were people who were none of the above, but they all ended up staying in the middle of the city, where less chaos happened.
Eventually, Vincent and Janie arrived at the warehouse. The main door at the front seemed to have been busted open, presumably with some type of dynamite. Vincent hopped over the rubble, helping his companion get over it as well. The warehouse was filled with dust, cobwebs, and old technology lost to time. “Perfect place for a hideout…” Vincent mumbled under his breath, looking around at the stuff in the old building. He saw a small, open can of beans on the floor near one of the doors in the empty warehouse. He picked it up, his eyes lighting up with a blue hue as he scanned the can. His eyes widened a bit, but they soon went back to normal as he looked over at Janie, who still seemed very timid. “They were here recently. 1 hour, 30 minutes, and 57 seconds ago. That's when this can was opened.” Vincent stated, now looking around for some other clue. Another can, shotgun shell casings, anything that might tell him where the tunnel might be.
Janie just stood in one place and stared in shock at the robotic detective. For him being over 100 years old, he was still as sharp as ever. As he looked around, the secretary finally started moving about. Searching the walls for any hidden buttons. She let out a soft gasp and she felt one on the wall near the part of the roof that had caved in long ago. She looked left, right, then at Vincent. She then pressed it, alarms starting to blare in the warehouse. Vincent covered his ears, though he could still hear it because of his overly heightened senses. “Turn that thing off! Janie!” He yelled, trying to be heard over the noise. She pressed the button again, promptly shutting the alarm off. Vincent sighed in relief, taking his hands off of his ears. His relief was short-lived, as he realized that something was… off. Janie wasn’t as jittery as before. In fact, she even had a grin on her face. Suddenly, the shadows that had previously surrounded him in the warehouse soon became illuminated by spotlights that he hadn’t noticed before. Perhaps he wasn’t as sharp as he thought he was…
“Well, well, well. If it ain’t the damsel in distress and her pet roomba.” A loud voice said with a chuckle, cockiness ever present in their tone. In almost an instant, Vincent could feel and hear guns cocking and being pointed at him and Janie. His whole being was filled with shock. He looked over to his assistant, absolutely dumbfounded. “You… betrayed me?” His voice was laced with a hint of anger, but it was mostly just pain and shock. “I… I didn’t know what to do, Vince! I-I had debt to pay, you understand! They wanted you as payment!” Janie tried to explain, but Vincent wasn’t satisfied.
Before he could ask any more questions, the loud voice spoke again, this time with a tone full of malice. “Miss Morae, you simple little thing. We didn’t want him, we wanted his money, his belongings.” The person who was speaking appeared on a balcony above them, shaking his head. His face was riddled with burn scars and missing patches of skin, his blood dripping down his face as he spoke. If Vincent had a protocol for feeling sick, it would have kicked in right about now. “So, you haven’t paid your debt. And…” the man started to say, leaning over the balcony’s rail to look down at the trapped two. “You know I don’t like people who can’t pay up.” A light below the balcony illuminated the area below. The same area where Mister Wilson was tied up all those months ago. The dried blood and chalk outline were still there, though faded a bit with age. One of his limbs was still left behind, though it had been chewed on by the rats and other feral animals of the city.
“But, since I don't have to chase you down, Miss Morae, I suppose I’ll go a little easy on you. I’ll take this thing off your hands instead.” With the wave of a bloody, gloved hand, the man ushered 5 of his guards to go grab Vincent. The detective’s hand went immediately to the gun in his pocket, but was shocked when he realized it wasn’t there. He then thought back to the walk over to the warehouse, when Janie started getting awfully close to him. He looked over to his previous confidant, who had his pistol in her hands. All the robot could do now was back away as the muscular guards came closer and closer to him, getting ready to dismantle and mutilate him.
“W-Wait, wait, wait! We can talk about this!” Vincent said as he backed away from the men approaching him, hand in the air showing his surrender. Adil just laughed, a sound so cold that it even sent a chill down the robot’s metallic spine. “Aww, you poor little thing…” He said mockingly, leaning over the railing even more, the metal creaking under the force of his body and his grip. “You really think we’re gonna let you go? Please. Do you know how long you’ve been foiling my plans? Every time we looked around the corner, there you were. Every time we tried to pull a heist, you were right behind, with your stupid metal nose in it.” Vincent was now backed up against a wall at this point, his synthetic breath heavy with fear and the dread of his imminent death.
“But, it ends here. Right here, right now. After all this time, I will finally be rid of you. No more running.” He leaned harder on the rails. “No more hiding.” The bars creaked and groaned louder under him. “No more detective agency.” The metal groaned louder. Louder. Louder. “No more metal man.” He gripped harder, gritting his foul teeth. “No more-” Suddenly, Adil’s rough monologue was interrupted by the railing of the balcony snapping under his weight, causing a shout of shock escaping his almost nonexistent lips. His body went tumbling down to the dirty debris covered floor below him. The guards quickly snapped their heads back to look at him, hearing a groan come from the fallen man’s body. With their attention now off of him, Vincent made a mad dash from the guards, his artificial limbs making him faster than any natural thing.
I need to get out of here, he thought, his robotic brain running at one hundred miles an hour. All the exits were covered with guards, who had now realized that he had gotten out of their grasp. Adil sat up from where he had fallen. There was a dusty imprint of his body left, right next to the chalk outline of Mister Wilson. “Hey! He’s getting away!” That yell from the guards made Vincent look around with more ferocity. Though, before the guards could pull any guns on him, he found an exit. It was a small tunnel. A waste tunnel, one that was used when the warehouse held volatile liquids, such as gasoline or water mixed with similar liquids. In a flash, Vincent rushed to the grate that was over the tunnel and crawled in, shutting the grate and crawling for his life. The guards tried to follow him, but were stopped by the commanding voice of Adil, slight annoyance but also acceptance in his voice. “Stop. Let him run.” The guards looked back at the man with disbelief. “I know those pipes like the back of my hand. It leads to a lake not too far from here. Let’s roll out. If we’re quick, we can catch him on the other side. In the meantime, though…” Adil turned to look at Janie, an evil grin on his deformed face…
The city was quiet. Not a sound was made, other than the creaks and the groans of the pipes, and the chirps of the birds that were up late at night. Everyone was peacefully asleep. Well, as peaceful as you could get in the dangerous world that they lived in. They all slept well, except for our protagonist, who sat at his desk, tapping a gray mechanical finger on the oak wood. His servos whirred as he looked around with pitch black eyes, looking awfully out of place. But, he didn't need sleep. He never did. He needed answers. And yet, they didn't come to him. He was the smartest robot that most had ever seen, but, even then, he had his moments. He always hated when he didn't work at full capacity because of a few setbacks.
The welcoming grin he usually had on his face was wiped off, replaced by a stern gaze as he tried to wrap his head around a problem he had had for a long time. A man by the name of Adil Thatcher had been kidnapping and slaughtering the last of the public officials left in the already deteriorating town. First, he killed Mayor Hughes. Then took his secretary, Wilma Parker. Now, he is rumored to have killed their local detective, Percy Owens. That is who our protagonist has replaced. Though many people disliked the idea of a robot taking over Percy's office, they didn't mind so much after he found the Mayor's son, Eddie Hughes, and brought him back unscathed years ago. They named him a hero. The Robot Gumshoe, they started to call him, because of his barely human appearance and affinity for being ‘nosy.’ He kept reminding him that his name is Vincent Hawkings, or AE-15, his designation, but they didn't care. Didn't see him as human, that's why. At least, that's what he thought.
His expression slightly soured as he remembered how the people of the town treated him. But, it was soon replaced with a confused look as he heard footsteps behind him. He looked up, hand reaching for the pistol in his pocket, preparing for anything. His robotic strength almost squished the metal gun as his grip tightened on it. That grip loosened, however, after he saw his secretary walking up behind him. “Janie, what are you doing awake at this hour?” He asked, his voice deep, a metallic ‘tink’ punctuating every word he said. His words were not as prominent as it usually was, as he was speaking in a voice that was barely above a whisper. He himself felt tired, even though he didn't need to rest. It was more of a mental exhaustion than anything. Or, him just being tired of being stumped about the Thatcher case.
“Vince,” Janie started, a worried look on her face, “I know it’s late, and I really should be asleep, but I think I’ve had a breakthrough on the Thatcher case.” Detective Hawkings perked up slightly, though his metal face didn’t show it. It was almost coincidental how she found out more about the case that was bothering him so much. Then again, she always did something like that from time to time. “I’m listening…” He said, leaning forward in his chair. “It… Well, it isn't good. At all.” Janie let out a nervous chuckle as she spoke, running a hand through her disheveled hair. “Any information is good information, Janie. Please, just tell me.” Vincent almost pleaded, desperate for a lead.
The secretary could only sigh, giving in and nodding her head. “Do you remember Mister Wilson’s case?” She asked, as if Vincent could forget. He didn’t have a mechanism in his head that could allow for forgetfulness. “Of course I do. We found him tied up in the warehouse on the outskirts of town. He messed with a few gangs and couldn’t pay up, so he paid with his life.” He said simply, though he seemed a bit confused. “How is that relevant?” For once, the robotic sleuth showed a bit of confusion on his face. Janie started to speak again, looking Vincent in the eyes. “Well… I’ve heard some rumors about that warehouse. More recent ones. About an old, run down service tunnel that Adil Thatcher might be using to sneak his kidnapees out of town.”
The old robot’s eyes widened, his jaw joints almost going slack in shock. Somewhere so close to home was being used for such vile reasons? No, he wasn’t going to stand for it. He swore to protect Deer Grove, his town, his new responsibility. With energy and coolant flowing through his metaphorical veins, he got up and grabbed his black trenchcoat coat and worn out hat, shrouding him even more in mysterious darkness. Jaine looked up at Vincent in increasing worry, grabbing him by the arm. “Where are you going? We both know it’s too late at night!” The Robot Gumshoe gently removed his secretary’s hand from his arm, patting her on the shoulder after doing so. “I know. But, something I learned years ago,” he started, his gaze soft yet authoritative, “is that evil never sleeps.” And with that, the detective walked off, opening the door to the alleys of the city that his office resided in, heading for the warehouse. Janie didn’t want to be left behind, so she quickly got dressed and ran after him. The both of them knew something for certain. They had a case to solve.
Not really. I just didn't think to use Tumblr. But, I do have something I want to post. I made a story with a character that is HEAVILY based off of Nick Valentine. And a villain based off my interpretation of Kellogg. I'm going to start posting each chapter (that I have finished) on here. Then, I'll disappear from Tumblr again.
(This might just be terrible. Also, spoilers for those who haven't played Fallout 4.)
One of my buddies (my little hobo) and I were talking over lunch, and we thought up this exact question. What if SoSu was a ghoul? Well, here's my take on it.
If we go back to Vault 111 and remember when Kellogg and crew killed our husband/wife, he just... up and left. He yoinked Shaun and dipped. But, what if something different happened? What if, before they came for Shaun, SoSu's cryopod broke open, along with the main vault door, and got irradiated from the blast while everyone else was safe in their pods?
I'd say that the first quest wouldn't be to exit Vault 111. It would be to find somewhere to get away from the rads or embrace it and potentially die. If you take the hide route, you could probably open another cryopod, kick them out, kill them, then freeze again until 2087. If you embrace the rads, you'd just... well, die. (I dunno. I haven't figured it out yet.)
I don't really feel like adding onto this more right now (I'm usually asleep by this time), so I'll put a poll up right after this (at the bottom) and see if anyone's interested in seeing how a ghoul Sole Survior would do out in the wasteland, and how quests and interactions would be different.
While I wait to gain the motivation to write more lore, I decided to finally give my character form, give her an actual appearance other than how I imagine her in my head. But, I can't draw worth shit. So, I resorted to Gacha Life. (I had to re-download it for this. Bear with me.)
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Ghoul Destinee Collins
And Pre-War Destinee Collins
Eh, that's about it. Alright, imma go get some sleep. Damn I'm tired.
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WARNING: There may be a bit of brutality and gore. And mentions of vomit. Eh.
War. War never changes. That was a realization Destinee had to come to. There was no more time for peace negotiations between the U.S. and China. There probably wasn't going to be any more U.S. or China left. That sentiment was fully instilled when another bomb fell.
This one hit a little close to home, home being the bunker she was currently trapped in. They were almost in the exclusion zone, if it weren't for the fact the nuke had hit mere miles away. If you want exact numbers, I couldn't give them. 10 or more miles, maybe, but nothing definitive. But, one thing was for sure. They could already feel the effects, and not just because of the ground shaking.
After a few hours or so, the nukes stopped going off. The buildings surrounding the underground bunker had fallen. And the world, all in itself, had fallen into silence. You would have thought Destinee and everyone else in the bunker would have been fine. But we already know that wasn't the case. It was only a matter of time before the ghoulification process would kick in...
And damn, did it hit like a motherfucker. There were no radiation proof suit to keep them safe. Barely and RadAway and barely any Stimpacs. The soldiers hoarded most of them to themselves. Destinee, along with a few other RobCo employees, were left with nothing. They were the first to decay. And all because of someone's greed. Greed makes or breaks a man. Greed makes or breaks the people around the man. And it easily went and tore them apart.
Destinee wasn't one for confrontation. She hated it. But her fellow RobCo employees weren't like that. Employees #1754 and #2580 were willing and able to kill anyone they saw that had something they needed.
-Battle of Bunker Intheria-
(This part got deleted and didn't save. I'm gonna fucking cry, man.)
The battle wasn't so much as a battle, but more of a conflict due to dwindling resources.
The soldiers failed to realize that they did not lock the weapons storage. With grenades and laser rifles in hand, #1754 and #2580 ambushed them. Though, not without a little help from a few soldiers. They were able to convince to turn on their fellow man to obtain resources.
The battle was... in all honesty, quite quick. And the soldiers were taken by suprise. Hell, someone had spit out their Cram (damn mystery meat). It took only a mere few shots to the head, a few seering lasers to kill them (even though we know, based on game logic, would have taken 20 or more shots for one person). The RobCo employees and their allies reigned victorious.
But, you may ask, where was Destinee? Cowering in fear. We've already established that she hates confrontation. She locked herself in the control room, away from the fight but also able to watch it on the cameras. Who knew your allies and friends could be so damn brutal...
They had finally gotten what they needed. They had gotten enough resources for themselves and even cut down the people who would need said resources in the process. Sure, some got hurt. It was expected. But they finally were set. Though, only for a while. Something very terrible, very irradiated, was festering...
Destinee, along with one of the soldiers she got to know as Cole Giles was already decaying. Their skin, once semi-pristine, was now falling off their body. Their flesh started tearing like wet paper. The medbay in the bunker was empty, though it had previously been torn apart in the battle for the bunker.
The bathrooms of the bunker could very well be called a crime scene from how much blood and vomit had come from the decaying two. It was hell, a suffering they had never felt before. Some may portray the ghoulification process as something simple or skim over it entirely. But I'm not going to. This shit isn't fun. It isn't easy. It's a deep, painful suffering, one that, hopefully, no one will actually have to experience.
But enough of that. I don't wanna dwell on the bad things. I'm trying to bring this back to being lighthearted. I'll have to save that for...
I have a bad habit of procrastinating. And forgetting. But, now I finally remember to do this. So, let's get some backstory done
-PART 1-
Destinee Collins, EngD
RobCo Employee #127
I'm gonna tell you right now, I haven't figured out her early life yet, like her childhood. But, I do have some later life things figured out.
Warning: I do ramble a lot and say the same things over and over again. And I say (Type, I guess?) a lot of unrelated or useless information. Also, potential spoilers. Look for the red words to gauge when the spoilers start and when they are over.
After a good 24 or so years working for RobCo pre-war, she was... surprisingly very low on the hierarchy chain. She had decent pay, but she was barely above working on assembly lines. She was barely in maintenance. Just another small gear in the large scheme of things, I suppose. This forced her to work with the newer employees. The things about working with newer people, though, is that it comes with benefits. Rumors spread much easier than you'd expect. And, I suppose, that's where this all starts.
There had been word going around that RobCo had been in cahoots with Vault-Tec. Though that was true, and everyone knew that, what people didn't know for sure was whether or not the war would be influenced by the two. Destinee Collins (RobCo Employee #127) had heard rumors from her team's local gossip, Minerva Casey (RobCo Employee #1275) that Vault-Tec, in collaboration with RobCo, WesTek, Big M.T, and a few others would help end the war and make profits from dropping the bombs themselves.
No one believed Minerva (for once). Her claims were deemed outrageous, even to Destinee, who used to love to listen to her colleague's gossip and rumors. Those companies weren't powerful enough to nuke the U.S., right? Wrong. Very, very wrong.
When the bombs dropped, Destinee had been sent to work on a few security systems in a bunker in the Mohave, though she usually worked closer to the American south. But, she didn't complain. The pay for that job would keep her set for a while. It could pay for her rent, food, bills, the whole shebang. So how could she say no? The job itself was pretty simple. All she really needed to do was repair a few terminals and run tests on them. Simple enough. She didn't know why it paid so well. Maybe because it was the military she was doing it for? Maybe because the bunker wasn't on any maps? Who knew. She surely didn't, that naive, foolish woman.
When the bombs fell, it was pretty damn obvious. She was somewhat away from the impact zone, but she could still feel the blast shaking her to her core. She could hear people outside, screaming and crying, begging to be let back in or praying to whatever deity they did or didn't believe in. No one was let inside. No one was let out. They were trapped.
The military operates were already on the terminals Destinee had fixed, wondering what the hell had happened, but all comms were knocked out. They were not only trapped, but they were isolated. No one could speak to anyone outside of the bunker, and vice versa.
