in Fallout 4, Rust Devils are hostile to regular raiders (and vice versa). Sure, in flavour text you find out that there are several regular raider gangs who don't get along, but I like the idea that the Rust Devils are the gang that no one likes
-robots are an unfair advantage! :(
-you have to be at least somewhat good at robotics to join
-Rust Devils are not interested in playing nice with the other gangs
-(they don't have to play nice, they have robots)
-their aesthetic is making everyone else look bad by comparison
-they're new in the Commonwealth and well organised (I headcanon the Rust Devils was already an established gang that travels all over, to wherever robots can be found)
I worked on more illustrations for the Fallout RPG! These were for the Rust Devils NPC Pack
This specific Automatron-based NPC Pack looks incredible, I'm so happy I got to work on it 💚
"A raider gang with a taste for technology and the smarts to use them. Face off against heavily modified robots and their raider overseers at an abandoned satellite array."
But the real question is, which gang would Hector prefer, if any at all?
Unsurprisingly, me coming at you guys out of nowhere with that question was a result of me thinking about this exact thing :’)
All the gangs have their pros and cons. It’s a close call between the Operators and Disciples – if he absolutely had to choose, he’d probably go with the Operators.
While the Pack would give him the most freedom to just do whatever (AND PET ANIMALS!), they’re just too much. Too loud, too colorful, too overwhelming as a whole.
The Disciples are always masked, live in a deep dark dungeon – perfect for him. He’s a fan of the aesthetic too, but they just take it a little too far for his liking. He’s half convinced they’re some sort of satanic worship cult and he’s not vibing with that.
So he ends up with the Operators, who are too stuck up and vain for his tastes, but the best fit in the end. And if he’s honest, Hector is pretty materialistic himself. Out of all the gangs, they show the most interest in science and technology, they seem to have things somewhat in order, cool gear, fancy rifles and a cozy parlor to boot.
(And if he didn’t have to choose, he’d just be some kind of tech guy taking care of his little corner. Unimposing and beneficial enough to the rest to be allowed to do his thing. Pretty much like Fritsch.)
So you’re telling me, I went through all that trouble trying to rescue and keep that little eye bot alive in Fort Hagen and he doesn’t even do anything ? Not even allowed to leave the building with me??
I reloaded so many saves !! I’d didn’t want him to die!!! What the heck!!
The morning light cut sharply through the ruined landscape of the city, throwing pockets of deep shadow haphazardly around. They decided to avoid Swan by taking a more eastern route. Payne took point as they strolled slowly through the ruins. She was glad Hancock knew the city, because she found herself getting turned around too easily.
After a while, Hancock closed the distance between the two of them. “Your mom taught you how to play the guitar. Did your mom teach you to pole dance too?”
Payne should have been expecting something along these lines, but it still made her stop for a beat. “Yes, she did. You could say it was part of the family business.”
“Man, I wish I could meet your mom! She’s a hell of a teacher.”
“She’s dead, so that might be a little hard.”
It was Hancock who was silent for a moment this time. “Sorry to hear that. Is that why you left?”
“No, she had been dead for a long time before I finally decided to leave.”
“Why did you leave?” He picked his between deep water filled pot holes. “I mean, Boston is pretty damn far to wander just for the hell of it.”
“Is it?” Payne stopped and leaned against a concrete barrier still in shadow, popping the cap off a soda they had scavenged. “I just felt it was time, I had no friends or family around anymore. Forces were starting to battle for control of the Mojave. I was not interested in getting in the middle of a pissing match between the NCR and Caesar’s Legion. I got the hell out of Dodge before shit got serious.” Lifting her helmet, she drank her fill then passed the bottle to Hancock. “I heard later that the NCR held on to the Dam, but just barely… but I haven’t heard anything since. Guess I was too far out.”
Hancock had heard of the New California Republic, but not the other side. He finished off the bottle. “I could see if my contacts could find out anything if you like.”
“Don’t bother. It’s been years, but like I said… there is nothing for me back there. Not anymore. I stayed in the Washington DC area for a little bit. That ended… badly.”
They continued to walk and chat. A growling mangy dog stepped out of the bus stop and ran towards them, lips curled back from ragged teeth. Hancock pulled his shot gun out, but Payne put her hand on the barrel, forcing it down. She kneeled and outstretched her hand as it approached. Snarling and snapping, it slowed, almost tip toeing up to Payne. It sniffed her loosely balled fist.
“Go on, get going.” She whispered. The dog turned and trotted off.
“Nice trick.” Commented Hancock.
Payne shrugged. “It comes in handy occasionally.” Payne looked down at pavement momentarily as they rounded a corner, still thinking of the events in DC.
That proved to be a mistake. Quite suddenly, they found themselves in the path of a massive hulking deathclaw sniffing around a few yards away. It immediately spotted them, letting out deafening roar that knocked them both to the ground before they could react.
Payne got to her feet first, grabbing Hancock as she rose. Quickly scanning, she only spotted one possible safe refuge… if they could make it there in time.
“Go! Now!” She pointed to the blue cylinder across the intersection. They both ran as fast as they could to the Pulowski shelter.
Unfortunately, the beast was faster, catching up with them just as they reached the opposite curb. Hancock pushed the buttons to unlock the door, each action seemed painfully slow.
Payne pivoted, placing herself between Hancock and impending doom. There wasn’t enough time to reach for her more powerful rifle strapped to her back. Instead she leveled her pistol and started firing as she heard the door behind her scrape open. The bullets ricochet of the creatures thick scales. Letting out a deafening bellow, it brought a giant clawed hand down, its sickle like claws slicing deep gouges across Payne’s chest. Her gun clattered to the pavement as she felt Hancock grab her by the back of her jacket, pulling her inside. As the deathclaw’s jaws opened for a bite, Hancock slammed the curved door shut. They could hear the frustrated beast beat on the steel just inches away, growling and clawing for its stolen meal. For a second it relented, but then suddenly from behind Hancock came a thunderous thump, as the beast slammed it tail into the side of the shelter, creating a baseball bat sized depression. They waited for another attack to knock the shelter off its foundation but none came. Payne gripped the door tightly.
Hancock listen, but couldn’t hear anything outside. “I think you can let go of the door now.” Payne didn’t move. He put his hands over hers to try and loosen her grip but as he did he glanced down. The floor of the shelter was thick with fresh blood.
“Payne?” Calling her name seemed to break the spell that was holding her in place. She slowly turned around. “Oh, fuck…”
Payne’s knees started to buckle. Hancock caught her as she fell, guiding her gently down to sit on the wet floor. He quickly removed her helmet.
She looked up at him, her face pale. “I think I might be in shock.” The front of her shirt lay in shreds, blood pouring from three deep wounds stretching from her collar bone down across her torso.
“Ya think?” He started to reach awkwardly into his pack, the space cramped with the two of them.
“No…you cant…” the pain was starting to creep back into Payne’s consciousness, stealing her breath.
“Shit, right.” He paused, unsure. “What do you need me to do?”
“Wash out…” Payne feebly waved her hand over her chest. Was it here heartbeat she could hear, or was that his? She could taste blood in the back of her throat.
Hancock poured a cold can of purified water over her, picking bit of dirt and asphalt out of her wounds as he found them. The water bubbled where the damage had gone deep enough to rip into her lungs. Once the can was done, more warm blood rose up from her torn flesh. Darkness ate at the edges of her vision. She tried to fight against them.
Payne grimaced. She tried to reach behind her for her pack. The motion brought a violent wave of pain that wracked her body. As she shrieked back, a bright red dribble of blood ran down from her nose and mouth. Her head rolled to the side as her consciousness receded.
Hancock gently nestled her head between his hands. “Hey, hey… wake up, Dreamer. You aren’t allowed to go to sleep just yet.” His voice broke through the darkness and she clawed her way back. Opening her eyes, she found Hancock’s face inches from hers as he kneeled down with her.
Payne managed a meager smile. “I think I prefer my other dream…” In her muddled mind, she found her situation strangely amusing.
Hancock reached around her to reach into her pack. His chest brushed against her face. Payne found herself fascinated by his smell, like a mix of cinnamon and dry fall leaves. That thought captivated her attention as Hancock pulled away from her, a pair of blood packs in his hand.
Payne stared at them, hesitating. She didn’t want to do this in front of him. It was one thing that he knew what she was, it was another for him to see it. She didn’t want him to see her like that, for him to have that memory of her.
His brow furrowed as he held them to her. “Do I need to open them or something?” He turned one over. “You gotta give me a little guidance here. I’m out of my league here.”
Payne winced as she reached up to grab a bag. “Please… just don’t look.” Hancock looked around. In the coffin like space, there wasn’t much more he could do. Payne tried to turn away before she bit into the tube. The rush of coppery fluid hitting her tongue made her close her eyes. The world raced away, replaced by the flood of liquid pleasure.
He tried to look at his hands, the dent in the wall, anything. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her body relax and heard her breath slow. Scared that she might have blacked out, Hancock looked back to see vigorously squeezing the bag, forcing the blood greedily into her mouth. He looked down. The wounds on her chest started to close as he watched, slowly squeezing together. As she grabbed the second bad, her eyes met his… only now the whites of her eyes were pitch black, like his. She gasped, flashing her sharp unnaturally lengthened canine teeth.
Startled, Hancock averted his eyes again. “Sorry.”
Frowning, she bit into the second bag. Her wounds finished closing. She waited for the warm afterglow to subside before telling him it was okay to turn around.
The shame on Payne’s face was nearly tangible. She stared at the blood-covered floor of the shelter, not daring to look up. The silence was crushing her.
“I told you not to look.” She lowly muttered.
Hancock slowly hooked a finger under her chin, gently pulling up, forcing her to look at him. “I’m sorry. You asked me not to look but I thought…” He shook his head. “I’m sorry.” His hand traveled down to the neck of her shredded shirt. Pushing a few shreds slightly aside, he uncovered a swath of her newly healed unscarred chest.
“It works fast, though.”
Realizing how exposed she was, Payne grabbed the tatters, pulling them together as she turned away. Her face burned. Hancock, realizing what he had overstepped, pulled away too.
Hancock started to stammer another apology, but Payne held up her hand. Something else had caught her attention. Putting a finger to her lips, she silenced him as she pressed her ear to the steel door. Seeing this, Hancock did the same, though he was careful not to touch her in the process.
Outside they heard the deathclaw’s booming roar in the distance followed by the ground shaking as it charged. Gunfire erupted. Volley after volley, and the sound of people shouting. The fighting drew closer. Instinctively both Payne and Hancock dropped down as far as they could, their bodies overlapping, covering their heads. Between the shouts and gunfire, Payne heard something else. The grinding of wheels on the pavement.
“THREAT NEURTALIZATION IN PROGRESS” Resounded a low robotic voice followed by a long volley of heavy machine gun fire. Bullets dinged off the metal cylinder, leaving quarter-sized divots as they hit. A few stray shots pierced the steel, one taking out the feeble light and plugging them into darkness, leaving star like punctures above their heads. The deathclaw bellowed and the ground shuddered again.
A robotic female voice, smooth and deadly like KLEOs, came from the right. “Engaging hostile.” The THUM of a high power laser blast followed.
“Jesus Christ… what the hell is happening out there!” Payne whispered to Hancock.
An unsettling silence fell after the beast collapsed on the ground. Jubilant whoops and cursing quickly filled the air. Ecstatic over their victory over the deathclaw, the group convened close enough that Payne and Hancock didn’t dare move for fear of drawing their attention. They couched silently for what felt like ages, their joints aching, muscles straining.
They heard footsteps grow closer.
“Hey Ed, what are you doing?” called a female voice.
“Seeing what’s in this thing.”
Payne and Hancock’s eyes locked in the near darkness. There was no way they were going to be able to fight whatever group was outside, not with the firepower they heard. Payne felt around for something to quickly jam in the door’s track but found nothing.
“Just be quick about it, we need to keep moving.” The foot step drew closer.
Thinking as fast as she could, Payne wedged her own leg in the track, trapping it between the edge of the door and a support. She pulled Hancock closer to her and hopefully out of the line of sight.
The man outside tried to slide the door open, but could only manage a few inches. A bright beam of light split the black like a knife. He tried several more times, each with considerable more strength behind it. Payne bit her lip to keep from crying out as her knee bashed into the steel support.
“It’s stuck!” The man called back. They heard something drug along the ground. Moments later, a wooden board thrusted through the opening.
Payne braced for the pain. She looked up helplessly just as the first slam came. Sparks filled her vision as the force split her kneecap, but the door did not budge. Repeatedly the man tried to pry the door open, but Payne’s leg barred the track. To keep from screaming out, Payne resorted to biting her hand, quickly drawing blood.
“Hurry up, dipshit!” call the impatient woman.
The board withdrew. Payne and Hancock held their breath as the man attempted to look inside.
“Nothing.” They heard him grumble.
“WHAT?”
“All I can see is blood, nothing good inside.” He walked away.
Payne and Hancock sat frozen until the sound of monstrous wheels ground passed and into the distance. Cautiously Hancock looked out the open slit, watching their heavily armored backs until they disappeared.
He shook his head as he helped Payne stand. “Never heard of the Rust Devils before.” Payne leaned against the wall, farthest from the shaft of light, trying to clear the remaining spots from her vision.
“Rust Devils?”
“I guess that’s what they call themselves… it’s written on the back of one of their armor.” He looked at the lumpy mess that was Payne’s left knee. “You just can’t catch a break today, can you?”
“Apparently not. I’m out of blood packs too.” She tried to put some weight on her leg and quickly found that to be a bad idea. White-hot pain radiated out from her crushed joint, causing her to sharply suck in her breath.
“What about a stimpak, just so you can put some weight on it?”
Hancock’s proposal had merit. Stimpaks didn’t work nearly as well on her as blood, but they did do a little. She shook her head in agreement and Hancock grabbed one out of his pack.
She gritted her teeth together as she held her shattered knee together. Hancock administered the injection and she could feel the tissue respond, delicately knitting tissue back together slowly. It might not do a lot for broken bones, but after about 10 minutes, she could at least put a modicum of weight on it.
“We have another problem. I can’t leave like this.” She motioned to her tatter shirt. “My coat won’t cover all this and the sun is pretty high in the sky. We could wait until night, but that’s a long time to sit in a puddle of blood.”
Hancock nodded. After a moment’s thought, he removed his coat and pulled up his white ruffled shirt over his head.
“Whoa whoa! Wait a minute!” Payne averted her eyes. “What are you doing?!”
“You need a shirt, so unless you have a spare, I suggest you put this one on.” He held it out to her.
“I can’t believe I am doing this…” She gingery took the shirt from his hand. She could feel her face getting red. She couldn’t help but see him standing there, just inches from her, half naked. Payne felt her pulse rate rise. Unfortunately it also sent painful throbs through her knee with every beat.
Hancock put his coat back on as Payne turned around. She removed her own coat, then stripping off her tattered blood stained shirt, dropped it on the sticky floor with a sickening plop. Hancock studied the curves of her back as she slid into his shirt out of the corner of his eye.
“This looks ridiculous!” it was obvious in the way that the fabric clung awkwardly to her body that the garment was not designed for a woman’s body.
Hancock snickered. “Looks damn good from here!” Payne halfheartedly slapped at him before putting back on her coat and helmet.
She rearranged the antique ruffles, trying to cover as much skin as possible, when a sudden realization hit her. She grasped at her neck. “Where is it?” she cried, panic seeping into her voice. She started frantically sifting through the gore on the floor. “Where is it??”
“Where is what?”
“My necklace… where is it?!” Payne slammed on her helmet and threw the door wide. She bounded out before Hancock could offer to help her. Ignoring the pain screaming from her leg, she searched the ground before her. Unable to withstand the abuse heaped upon it, her knee collapsed, sending her painfully to the pavement.
Hancock stopped her by sitting her gently down on the curb. On a line high above, a few crows studied the seen quizzically, occasionally cawing.
“It’s the one with the blue star bottle cap, right?”
Payne nodded and chewed her lip. She couldn’t lose it now, not after all this time. Her mind frantically jumped around in a panic. After a few minutes, Hancock happened to kick a mound of debris. The wheel tracks embossed on the top of the gravel disintegrated to reveal a faint blue glow underneath. He pulled the flattened cap and chain from the dirt. He couldn’t see Payne’s reaction through her helmet, but her shoulders sank as he handed it to her. She held it tightly in her shaking hands before finally storing it away in a back pocket. She stood up, swaying on her bad leg.
