Just another way to survive

Name's Lillith. I'm no one special, just a girl from a hellhole. That's all I'm going to say. M!A status: None ((A Fallout 3/NV blog for the F!Lone Wanderer, Lillith. Will role play with any fandom. I track the tag "imnotademonmoron". PLEASE MESSAGE...

[imnotademonmoron]

99percentzombieproof:

“Got that first half right, I’ll give you that.” Nick shrugged it off, trying not to let it get to him, which wasn’t too hard since it didn’t. Oh please, he knew he looked like a regular strip-goer because he was one, just worse for wear with a bit of Boomer left on him from earlier that day. He rolled his eyes at catching her mumbling to herself, agitated at her not even attempting to believe him when he was giving her at least that much. 

“Brahmin? The hell is that? Huh, haven’t heard that insult directed at me in awhile.” Nick quipped with a hint of amusement, which was quickly dashed, free hand coming up to comb through his hair, anger spiking. “What fucking nuclear apocalypse are you talking about?! When the fuck and why the fuck, explain that to me. You say I’m in the future but your gear is outdated as all hell and your most advanced people are tribal? Wow. Just wow.” His cynicism was out in full play by now, just dumbfounded at the shit this chick was trying to pull off on him, and he was starting to regret believing her. Forget blondes, redheads are fucking crazy.

“I’ve met my fair share of southerners, few too many in my opinion. I’m not from Georgia, I’m from Boston, I’m saying I was just in Savannah. Which is why I’m wondering how I got to D.C. of all places, since it’s a bit of a jump. And the only ‘fauna’ we came across were zombies, gators, and the occasional living person who thought we were errands boys… and girl.” He added, rubbing his temple, going over the pros and cons of just bailing. He hated it, but he definitely knew he wasn’t even remotely in the right place or time, so he kinda needed this chick’s help. God. Fucking. Dammit. Welp, play nice time. Calming himself, he tried for a look that’d hopefully garner sympathy, or– ugh –pity. 

“Look, I need help alright? Obviously we’re getting off on the wrong foot here, so let’s start over; Name’s Nick, I’m not from around here, mind telling me what’s going on because I got no clue.”

  --”Oh, just big, mutated cows with two heads.”  Lillith gave a nonchalant shrug, a deadpan look shot at this weirdo.  “That somehow defy everything logical because this crazy mutation is genetic, and passes on the trait of two heads to their offspring.  When something like that is really chimerism...”  ...And not to mention the big, tumorous udders...Ew.

  --Oh fucking hell, was he kidding?  “Of course the gear is outdated!  It’s over two hundred years old!  Are you deaf?  I’ve said this, what, five times now?  Of fucking course it’s outdated, it’s from the 70′s!  Two-hundred years out of date.”  She sighed a frustrated sigh, running her hands through her blood colored hair.  Ugh, he was not listening...  “And what the hell do you expect?!  Shit hits the fan, government’s gone, people like order.  Tribes are bound to happen.  Jesus fucking Christ.”  

  --Okay, that made no sense.  So, he was in Georgia, but he was from Boston.  Wouldn’t he have had to have gone through Capital to get to Georgia...?  Wouldn’t he know the area...?  But, there was one thing he did say that made sense, though.  “Oh god, you’ve seen the gators?  What are the gatormen like?  The Brotherhood of Steel told me about them, they sound terrifying.”  For a moment, her condescending tone melted away and replaced with a more curious one.  Was he serious?  He had a run-in with the alligator mutants?  Damn....

  --His sudden introduction caught her off guard.  Wow, did this dick calm down?  Damn.  Fine, she should return the courtesy for at least a little while.  ...And resist the urge to call him Dick.  “Yeah, I can tell you.  Nice choice in first interactions here, if what you claim is true.  Name’s Lillith Varner, kind of the one they call the Lone Wanderer ‘round here.  You know, the one Three Dog’s always talking about?  ...Don’t tell me you don’t listen to the radio.”  Oh god, he doesn’t listen to the radio.

[imnotademonmoron]

Super Dissection (Closed RP with DiscordianCompanion)

  --The D.C. area always seemed to pull the strangest of people to it.  Raiders, refugees trying to get to Rivet City, and Super Mutants were just the normal crowd.  Every now and then you got scavengers, slavers, and the occasional crazy that thought it was ‘77, but they were usually easy to deal with (the last being the hardest, though).  But the occasional variety was the rare explorer, climbing up and around the ruins of the old capital with a strange vigor that made every other wastelander seem sane.  Scrambling across the rubble, to the extreme of scaling those old skyscrapers; these types were strange.

  --Lillith could be classified as one of those kinds of people as she sat up top one of the higher ruins overlooking the so aptly-named Hellhole.  Climbing was a challenge she accepted every hour of the day, and this building had been no different.  It wasn’t that far off of the ground, just high enough to evade Super Mutants.  She was pretty sure someone below could see her from just her hair alone, but she didn’t dwell on it.  No, she was more interested in the surprising amount of mutilated Super Mutants.  ...Was that where the screaming had come from earlier?  She heard the detestable whining of Super Mutants an hour or so ago, but now they all laid dead on the ground, their killer nowhere to be found.  Using her scope, Lillith had been keeping an eye on this place off and on for the past few hours.  Of course, she found nothing, as it was her luck, but it was worth a shot.

  --Jeez, if only she could figure out who else was there... then she could figure out if she needed her weapons or not.  She hated not knowing what was going on.  It infuriated Lillith, making her anxious.  Especially since every waking moment of her life was a life-or-death situation.  Her anxiousness just kept her alive. 

  --...God, she needed sleep, she was thinking too much into it.  And she swore she saw something below her, but it was more likely her eyes playing tricks on her.  Thinking it was a person was dumb.

[99percentzombieproof]

Raising a hand, he massaged his temple, trying to ease his oncoming headache as well as his rising frustration. The more she spoke, the more angry he became, especially since he was starting to believe the supposed bullshit she was spewing. She fit in to their surroundings perfectly, he could definitely smell something completely off about the air here, and he stuck out like a sore thumb in contrast to the bleak landscape. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but she was making a hell of a lot of sense suddenly… He hated it.

Instead of responding to her explanation, since he didn’t know what to do besides agree, which he refused to do, Nick gave an aggravated ‘tch’, straightening himself out. He noticed her play with the sword hilt, which didn’t surprise him much, but it didn’t put him a bit on edge. Ringed-fingers twitched on his holstered side, an instinctive itch to grab his weapon, but he held back. All they were doing was arguing back and forth in the middle of a wasteland, and while annoying, he could tell he didn’t want to make enemies of the girl in front of him, especially if he wanted to live long enough to find out why he was in D.C. in fucking 2280. So, let’s play nice… for now.

"Glad I didn’t run into it then, by the time I do I’ll probably be long gone anyway so lucky me. Nah, I’m sure I got the name right, only seen it plastered on every saferoom wall preceded by 'fuck you’ and followed with 'you lying bastards’. Never heard of any Enclave either.” He made a disgusted expression at the mention of skin armor. “No fucking thank you, I’d rather use shitty old gear than look like the next Leatherface ripoff. So because of shit going down, no one’s bothered trying to upgrade their gear specs? Seems like a stupid ass move in my opinion. Honey, I haven’t had anything in the past few months beside some scavenged cigs and a swig of flat beer, this is the most sober I’ve been in my life.” He said sorely, raising a brow at the familiar change in dialect. “Do these 'Wastelanders’ happen to be from the south? 'Cause I know a guy who’d fit in just peachy. No thanks, I’ve swam through enough shit water to last me a life time, so I’ll have to pass on that.”

“So, like I said, let’s say I believed you on all of this. What the hell does that make me then? I know I’m from 2009 and was just in Savannah, so how the fuck have I ended up in D.C. circa two-thousand-two hundred-and-fucking-eighty here with you? Whoever the hell you are.”

[imnotademonmoron]

  --"Well, hell if I know what you are.  All you look to me is some Vegas type high on some strong shit."  Lillith shook her head, rolling it back to look up at the sky for a moment, out of pure exasperation.  Looking at this asshat was almost painful.  She felt she needed to look away periodically to give herself a break from this crazy.  She shook her head again and glanced down, muttering under her breath this time.  "He thinks this is 2009, jesus..."

  --She shifted her attention back to the asshole in front of her, staring him down critically.  A bit of confusion was mixed in there, especially at the Leatherface comment.  The hell was that?  More crazy rambling?  God, why did she have to deal with him?  Why did she have a conscience?  Consciences sucked ass when dealing with people like him.  And especially since they were so close to Megaton.  Okay, not that close, but it was close enough to make Lillith worry about drawing attention to herself.  She was pretty sure a gunshot, or screaming would be heard...damn it.  Her hand was still at her sword's hilt, and when she glanced back down, she caught his hand hovering over a sidearm, causing her to tense up just the slightest.  Shit, he saw what she did.

  --Ignoring most of what he said, Lillith stared this weirdo dead in the eye.  It took her a moment to realize he took her statement too literally, to which she sighed violently. 

  --"Brahmin skin, genius.  It's leather, not human skin.  God, why do you have a brain if you aren't gonna use it?"  Lillith sighed heavily again and shook her head, tossing her red hair around.  "And my fucking God, are you showing you can't use your head for not a single, God damned moment.  We dealt with the nuclear fucking apocalypse, and it's been two hundred years since it.  No one has the resources or skill to do as you suggest.  Do you really expect that to happen when, for the longest time, the most advanced groups were Enclave and wandering tribes?"  She paused to figure out how to respond to the South comment when she heard him address her as "honey."  She cringed a bit, restraining herself from doing anything.  She'd get back at him... Just wait.

  --"I have never met anyone from the South. Only people who've been down there.  And if you know the South, and really are from Georgia as you claim to be, then it explains your obvious lack of sanity.  From what I've heard of the... local fauna down there, that's not on my list of places to see."  She paused, letting that sink in before rolling her eyes.  "Gee, think I like being yelled at by someone who has a severe problem with keeping track of time?  Especially when that someone is someone I don't know?  Nor care to know?"  The hell was with this guy?

[99percentzombieproof]

Nick rolled his eye at the glare he got, knowing that look all too well. Great, somehow now he was the one looking like he needed an ‘I-love-me’ jacket. “I don’t know what shit you’ve been sniffing off the dashboard but it’s gotta be bad for you. Green Flu; happened a few months back, mainly spread by bites, blood, bile, smoke, and spit— essentially rabies on steroids with a side of cannibalistic tendencies and possible mutation. Never heard of no Blue Flu, sounds like the label of a kid’s medicine or some shit if you ask me, and I think an epidemic like that would’ve made the textbooks yet this is the first I hear of it, funny that huh?” In the 50’s? God, this was giving him a worse headache then having to be on watch with Ellis. Speaking of, he hoped no one was expecting him to take his turn since he was kinda indisposed at the moment.

"Civil Emergency and Defense Agency, bullshitting government organization meant to keep shit together but fail horribly at it because they lie out of their asses like all government bastards do. I said 2009 because that’s what year it’s supposed to be, yeah I get the days feel long as hell in an apocalypse but they’re still days, not years or months. The hell is a PIP-boy— … Lemme see that.” He reached out for her arm that held the huge clunky looking watch, which he guessed was what she was talking about. Sure enough, a quick look confirmed it said 2280, just great. “Okay… maybe I’ll try and believe that bit, but it’s a long shot. I meant, Sherlock, that the gear itself looks damn old, maybe not the condition but the make of it for sure. I still got no clue what you mean by that, all I know is Infected and Special Infected, and none are ‘sane’.”

[imnotademonmoron]

  --Wow, this guy was really upping the crazy factor, wasn't he?  All of this shit about some CEDA group (that honestly sounded too much like Enclave), this "Green Flu" thing, the fact he was making fun of the Blue Flu, these weird "Infected" and "Special Infected" things, and all of this other shit.  ...But really, what kind of chems was he taking to think that something world ending happened in 2009?  Jesus, he was a real piece of work...

  --"Okay, let's believe you for a second.  So, you're suggesting that the United States of America was nearly wiped out in 2009 - which is two-hundred-seventy-one years in the past, not a couple of months ago - yet there were still enough people to die of the Blue Flu in 2052 to put the death count in the millions, and allow it to spread all over the world.  Alright, I totally believe you.  I'll just believe you that these two things just so happened to coincide, and wouldn't require a ridiculous size in population to support that many deaths before the nuclear apocalypse."  She adjusted the sword that rested at her hip, fiddling with the hilt as apart of a nervous habit she had.  Or rather, "agitated habit" - since that term would apply considerably better to this situation.  She nearly punched him in the face for grabbing her arm like that.  It was a natural reaction by now for her to want to clock someone for grabbing her.  And she almost did!  But he had moved out of her range by that point.  The urge to draw one of her guns to blast him in the head was rising.

  --"Alright, let me just breeze through your misguided statements.  One: obviously, if you consider yourself to have been in two-thousand-fucking-nine then there wouldn't have been texts on the Blue Flu since it appeared in the '50s, like I said.  Two: CEDA.  Sounds like Enclave.  You sure you're not giving them the wrong name?  Three: well no shit the gear looks old, it was designed in the '70s, near the end of the war and the world.  If you want newer armor, get leather armor; that shit's patched together from skin.  Have fun with it.  Four: you must be on some incredibly strong chems to think there are 'Infected' around here, or even 'Special Infected.'  They don't sound like anything I know of, and you're still not making a lick of fucking sense.  Do you need to sober up or something?"  Lillith snorted, shifting the way she stood.  "Excuse me while I slip into the dialect of the Wastelanders 'round here, but you definitely ain't sober, and my reasoning is 'cause you ain't making sense whatsoever.  Kindly jump in the Potomac, would ya?"  Maybe the Mirelurks will get him.  ...Hopefully.

[99percentzombieproof]

"Well, where I’m from they sure as hell can now, fucking Green Flu. I’m not insane, that’s the hick’s job, and apparently you’re contending for it.” This was getting weird, so maybe he really was crazy, but he was pretty sure she had more than a few screws lose herself too. Sure, he still didn’t believe he was living in a cliche zombie flick himself, but whatever she was spouting took the fucking crazy ass cake.

“Former United States of America? I think CEDA would’ve mentioned the deconstruction of a country and destruction of the world in one of their transmissions, a little 'Hey, shit's fucked worse than we thought' before taking one to the head over the radio for all the kiddies to hear.  Wait— Okay now I know you’re fucking crazy; The country is only around two hundred and thirty years old right now give or take, because last I checked it was 2009.” It felt like he was helping a kid who had a few too many spiked Monsters with their history homework. It was getting annoying, but thankfully he’s learned to tolerate annoying. “Scavenging I believe, military I believe, whatever the hell a Raider is— fine, but that looks like some oooold issue gear, what, you scavenge a museum for it? Killing and taking riot gear from a zombie would’ve been way more worth it and time saving, trust me.”

[imnotademonmoron]

  --"You fucking kidding me?"  Lillith gave the most deadpan stare to this psycho.  She stayed silent for a few moments, judging him silently and critically.  He couldn't be serious, could he be?  It wasn't the first time she'd been called insane, but the place the term was being used was different for once.  Funny, though.  He should've heard himself talk.  "Oh, so Georgia has walking corpses because of some Green Flu?  Ha, well, that's funny since last I checked in my father's records, since he's a doctor and all, Green Flu doesn't exist.  Didn't exist prewar, and doesn't exist now.  There was a Blue Flu that nearly wiped out the entire population of the United States back in the '50s, but that virus died out.  I mean, thank god.  A killer virus that could actually deal with crazies like you in a fitting way.  Thank god it's dead, right?"

  --"Now you sound even more insane.  The fuck's a CEDA?  And what did you do to make yourself believe it was two-thousand-fucking-nine?  That number's more random than fucking Talon Company.  I get it if you had said something within the 2070s, because there are plenty of schizos who think the war never happened, but 2009?  Really?  Haven't you even looked at a calendar?  Preferably one of the computerized ones?  Because you look at one in a ruin, and it'll say October 2077.  You look at one like my PIP-Boy, and it'll say December 2280."  She let that last statement hang for a few moments, hoping it'd sink in and have him realize just what was going on.  No, it wasn't 2009.  It was 2280, you fucking asshat.  "Yeah, funny that.  I ripped this off of the back of some guy I killed, pried this gun from some dead Talon Company Merc's cold, dead hands...bought this...And nope, nothing came from a museum.  Because you're stupid to go into a museum, since they're usually infested with Super Mutants and Ghouls - and I mean both the feral and sane kinds.  Why the fuck would you scavenge in a museum, when you can go after towns?  Seriously, you're fucking stupid."

[99percentzombieproof]

"Unless you call the bat shit insane walking corpses bent on eating your face off ghouls then, no, I meant zombies. Z-O-M-B-I-E-S, zombies, infected, the undead." Nick explained in depth sarcastically, scoffing. Seriously, what was her deal? Then again, he still had no clue how the infection was effecting other places besides Savannah, maybe something different happened up north.

"Wastelander? The hell is that? And try a couple months, sweetie, I was up here before the infection started then stupidly left for the hell hole that is the south. I haven’t seen a ‘mutant’ since I got here, so hell if I fucking know. Wait. Nuclear attack? You telling me we got hit by a fucking nuke? Oh goddamit—” He let out a groan, sliding a hand down his face in disbelief. “I’ve seen plenty of gingers in my time, believe me, and I couldn’t give less of a fuck about some weird ass uneven tan, I meant the clothes and weapons.”

[imnotademonmoron]

  --"You don't sound like you're talking about anything differe-Wait, undead?  Did...are you fucking insane?  Corpses are corpses, they can't come back."  Like she said, was this guy absolutely insane or something?  Where'd he get the idea that corpses came to life?  Was he some chem addict that watched too many monster flicks?  Jesus...

  --"Wastelander.  Someone who lives or travels through the wastelands that make up the former United States of America.  And yes, we were fucking nuked.  Like the rest of the god damn world.  And no, you couldn't have been here 'a few months ago' and have it still intact.  Unless, of course, two hundred years is your idea of 'a few months.'"  He really was mental.  This wasn't right, why didn't he know?  He must be mentally unsound.  Jesus Christ, who let him even hold a weapon!?  "And it's just stuff I found scavenging.  You know, old military stuff so I won't die because of the Raiders?  Because that's the worst fucking way to go."

[99percentzombieproof]

"D.C.?" Nick questioned, wondering just how he had gotten that far off track, because last he knew they were heading for Orleans. The rest of what the girl said caught his attention, as did her attire and… just about everything around them. “I guess you could count me as one of the latter then, but I don’t think scavenging a store counts as stealing in a zombie apocalypse. Mind telling me what’s going on, because this ain’t the D.C. I remember and you don’t look like your average survivor.”

[imnotademonmoron]

  --"Okay, wait.  Hold up.  Zombie apocalypse?  Dude, you'd better not be talking about the ghouls."  Lillith had to stop and just stare at this guy, questioning his sanity.  Not the D.C. he remembered?  And did he seriously use the term survivor?  What rock did he crawl out from under? 

  --"Wait, hang on.  Let me get this straight.  You're a scavenger, yet you don't know that it's wastelander and not survivor?  And what, did D.C. change severely in the last five years or something?  Are the super mutants worse around here or something...?  Because I'm pretty sure the rubble caused from a nuclear attack can't change all that fucking much..."  She had to pause at his last comment, though.  "What, I don't look normal to you?  Is it the sunburns, or the fucking hair?  Pretty sure it's the sunburns."

[99percentzombieproof]

"And who the hell are you supposed to be?"

[imnotademonmoron]

  --"That's funny, because I was just about to ask the same thing myself," Lillith shot, glancing over the guy in front of her quickly to assess if he was dangerous or not.  ...Well, he was armed, but it didn't look like anything special.  "I mean really, the only suits you'd get up here in D.C. are the crazies who still think it's the 70s, or the even crazier manics who think they can just take whatever the hell they like.  Which are you?"

[imnotademonmoron]

((Finally made a page about my other blogs. Go take a look! (also there is text on the links)))

[imnotademonmoron]

((Okay, now I'm done, you butt.))

[imnotademonmoron]

thelonewandereravrid replied to your post:((Editting theme!))

*LOOKS*

((

))

[imnotademonmoron]

((Editting theme!))

[imnotademonmoron]

Merry Christmas! A big fluffy bird flies down to you, and gives you two red and white balls! The balls open and two horses - a zebra-like one, and a pony with flaming blue hair - pop out! A note is handed over to you before the bird flies away. It says: "Enjoy your new Pokemon, Blitzle and Ponyta - which is a shiny! Lucky for you! Take good care of them - a friend"

Lillith stared at the note in surprise.  She was just about to grab her gun and shoot the bird (because really, who knew if there were flying mutants?) when the letter was dropped and the thing flew away.

"…."

"Which one’s which…?"

She was going to have a hard time explaining the existence of these two horses, or foals, or…whatever they were.  What were they?

—OBTAINED: Blitzle, Name: Erich; Level: 17; Moveset: Quick Attack, Thunder Wave, Shock Wave, Charge; Ability: Lightning Rod.——OBTAINED: Ponyta; Name: Hastur; Level: 21; Moveset: Flame Wheel, Flame Charge, Stomp, Growl.—

[thelonewandereravrid]

"No, no— I didn't mean it like that." ((ARE YOU HAPPY I SENT ONE))

"Don’t worry. That’s not the only time nor will it be the last time I’ve heard that term referred to me before. No worries."

[thelonewandereravrid]

"It’s more creative than most insults I’ve heard from others. Hearing the same old tiresome bullshit of ‘bitch’ and ‘whore’ gets tired from time to time and thus made me prone to appreciate something more imaginative."

[imnotademonmoron]

"I would hardly call it imaginative since I compared you to one of the Eldritch gods.  Nyarlathotep?  Ever heard of him?"

[imnotademonmoron]

Lie to Me, Broken

Lie to Me:What’s a time you’ve lied?

"How can I just choose one?  I’ve lied too many times, and about some of the stupidest things."

"I can’t think of anything significant, since I’ve done it a lot.  Sorry."

Broken:What’s been your lowest point?

"Oh, I don’t know.  Maybe it’s when I found out that I survived something I shouldn’t have?  When I woke up and found out that I had survived something the only person I cared about didn’t?  Finding out I’m more of a freak than I let on?  Maybe when I realized how alone I was?”

"Maybe when I was tired of being used, and I finally broke down because hell, I was feeling a bit suicidal on that run.  I was disappointed I didn’t die in that chamber.  I was upset that I had woken up, but not Sarah.  What did I do to deserve that?  Why didn’t she wake up?  Yeah, all of that weighed down on me and that was the closest I ever got to jumping off of that building in D.C.  I was that close.  So yeah, that’s my lowest.  Thanks for bringing it back up."

[imnotademonmoron]

[imnotademonmoron]

Make 'Em Confess! [Questions Meme]

Blush: What's something embarrassing you've done in front of a crush or someone you were trying to impress?

Boo!: What startles you?

Oops!: What's something embarrassing you've done in public?

Gone: Ever thought of running away? If you did, where would you go?

Lie to Me: What's a time you've lied?

Broken: What's been your lowest point?

Wings: What's a fantasy or wish of yours?

Kick the Bucket: Name two things on your "bucket list."

Talent: Do you have any strange talents or skills you've learned but never really had a use for?

Sing It!: What's a song or song genre that you like but don't often tell people you do?

Red Handed: What's one of your guilty pleasures?

Psych!: How gullible are you? Have you ever been pranked or playfully fooled?

Scared?: What's an irrational fear or phobia of yours?

Squirm: What's a topic that always makes you feel awkward when it gets brought up?

Mirror Mirror: How have other people admitted to seeing you? What impression do others say that they have about you or when they first met you?

Story Time: Tell a story about something you did or something that has happened to you within the last 24 hours.