hey girl *starts sweating* wanna play strip poker?
Life has been going crazy for me lately so I have been losing some of my art steam, mostly been making doodles or meme redraws but I’d like to come back with more serious art nyehehehe
Is this an underrated pinup choice? I think I’m running out of FNV ladies to pin up…… Please if you have any suggestions drop them in my asks. Could be any character and I’ll consider it🤠
Vault 21 is the vault that got all the boxes of Yu-Gi-Oh! manga and a set of cards to entertain them for 200 years and decided that was the proper way to handle any and all problems
Y'know, I think I've thought about a lot of New Vegas, but there's always more things t' answer. F'instance I jus' wondered that title question for the first time. Where House get concrete to fill Vault 21? I answered me own question fairly easily.
The NCR have a concrete operation in the Mojave, the full picture of that would be a bit of a tangent.
Anyway, so, me theory, which seems pretty airtight as an answer, is that House must've purchased the concrete from the NCR for his crime against the Vault 21 Dwellers. Jus' another way the NCR's occupation of the Mojave made things worse for its people (by aiding House's occupation of Vegas).
My faith is almost gone,
but my will is strong,
and I've gotta make it big in Vegas.
—“Big in Vegas,” Buck Owens (1969)
It Keeps Right On a-Hurtin’
#22 - Ring-a-Ding-Ding I
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Notes / Original Pencils / Transcript:
Notes:
I live! It’s been nearly three months since the last issue, and boy are my arms tired. In the meantime, I was putting out comic work elsewhere, moving apartments, and hosting a beloved friend in my home for a week, so I’ve certainly had a busy 2022.
Speaking of ‘22...this issue, #22, is the longest issue yet in terms of both page count and, I’m pretty sure, word count. It’s one hell of a talker so I hope it’s been worth the wait. Revelations! Confrontations! What could be next for our intrepid heroes? Well, it’s pretty generous to call either of them “heroes”...
The adventure will continue next ish. And lemme tell you: it’s gonna be a killer. You might even say it’ll really go out with a bang. One could even argue that Benny Gecko is going to die. Metaphorically speaking. But also literally.
“But Lou, that’s spoilers!” Aw, come on, haven’t you ever seen Columbo? It’s about how he solves it, not the suspense of whodunit. And besides, maybe I’m lying. Maybe Agnes’ll shake her charlies for the Ben-man, even, who knows? Don’t trust me about anything ever. You can’t even trust me about when these comics come out, since I posted this a day earlier than I said I would, though technically it’s Saturday in certain global time zones by now.
Original Pencils
The original pencils aren’t actually going to be included in this post like usual because there is so much to go over, production-wise. I’m really excited to get into the specifics, but I’ll be doing it over at @fallout-lou-begas sometime in the coming days. So follow me there if you’re not already, and I’ll update this description when the production notes are up and link to them here!
Two days later: Here it is!
Transcript
EXT. THE STREETS OF NEW VEGAS. The radiant lights of this preserved pre-war city beam brilliantly into the night sky. Below, the streets are full of drunks, gamblers, tourists, lovers, loners, winners, and losers, as well as those who call the city home: not only humans but SECURITRONS, too, the police robots controlled by the de facto ruler of New Vegas, MR. HOUSE. Outside the entrance to the subterranean VAULT 21 HOTEL, some vault-dwelling resident-employees are among the people.
A NEEDLE PLUNGES INTO FLESH.
CASS: And that’s it?
AGNES: That’s all there is to it.
INT. VAULT 21 HOTEL, ROOM 310. Inside, AGNES SANDS is sitting on one of two beds in her underwear; ROSE OF SHARON CASSIDY has just administered her estrogen shot for her. Two dresses, one red and one blue, hang on hooks above their dresser. The dresser, the beds, and the floor are adorned with their clothes and equipment.
CASS: Hope I did a good job.
AGNES: You did fine.
CASS: And you can’t do this yourself, or something?
AGNES stands up and moves toward the bathroom.
AGNES: Oh, no, I can. I just prefer not to.
CASS: Oh, gotcha.
AGNES turns on the sink faucet and wets her face. CASS leans, sitting, against the side of the bed.
CASS: I'm the same with drinking. I tend to meet some interesting people that way.
AGNES: Huh. How fortunate.
They smile at each other from across the room.
CASS stands up and undresses, removing her shirt and pants before grabbing the blue dress hanging over the room’s dresser. Meanwhile, AGNES shaves in the bathroom. She tenses as she puts her metal straight razor to her face again and again.
CASS: Hey, about done in there?
AGNES: Yeah. Just about.
CASS (putting on dress): Can't rush beauty, right. Puts a new meaning on "dressing to kill," doesn't it?
AGNES: Yeah. How do you feel?
CASS inspects herself in a compact mirror.
CASS: Pretty good, I guess, if only because I haven't worn a dress like this in years. But this Benny guy—what is the plan, exactly? You know where he is?
AGNES (washing her hands): Well...we know he's one of the Chairmen, so he should be at The Tops. I'll case the joint, find out where—
CASS (off): Alright, Agnes, hold on.
AGNES freezes.
CASS: Just fucking stop right there.
AGNES peers out from the bathroom at CASS, who is sitting on top of her bed. She looks mad.
CASS (yelling): "Case the joint?" Are you serious? Are you some kind of fucking burglar now?
AGNES stands in the doorway, stunned.
CASS (exasperated, head in her hand): I mean, you're a master goddamn lockpick, I know that. So of course. Courier, doctor, soldier, assassin, burglar, why the hell not. You're gonna be a goddamn brahmin baron by tomorrow, too, aren't you?
AGNES: Cass, listen—
CASS (yelling): I will listen, if you start fucking talking! That's the thing!
AGNES (intense): Lower your voice.
Beat.
CASS: Sorry.
AGNES: I thought you were in a good mood.
CASS fidgets nervously with her dress.
CASS: I was, I...I am, it's not...I'm sorry, it's...
They look at each other. CASS frowns, her anger seemingly exhausted already. AGNES grimaces with uncertainty. Eventually, CASS looks away.
CASS: Look...I like you, Agnes. Like, you've been the kind of person that I needed to meet, in more ways than one.
CASS looks back at AGNES again, staring daggers.
CASS: But the more that I like you, the more that I worry I shouldn't. Because sometimes you say some crook shit like "case the joint" and it reminds me that I don't know you.
CASS (quietly, looking away again): Not really.
CASS: So yeah, I wanna have fun while I'm in Vegas. And you've scratched my back so I'll scratch yours.
CASS (glaring at AGNES): But you'd better come clean right the fuck now about where the hell you learned to pick locks and kill people, before I feed your ass to the ghouls back down in those goddamn sewers.
CASS: Fuck, Agnes, what is it? Were you a raider, or in a gang? Do you think I'm gonna judge your shitty childhood or whatever? Do you not trust me?
AGNES: Cass—
CASS: Because sometimes it feels like I've trusted you way too goddamn much is all, like I'm a goddamn sap. Am I being set up, Agnes?
AGNES: No!
AGNES: I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I'm not trying to lie, or anything. I just...don't like to talk about it—
CASS: Oh? Well, with all due respect, tough shit.
CASS clasps her hands together, pleading and pensive.
CASS: Y'know, all of the goddamn blood money that McLafferty bought me out with went toward this room for tonight. And for these nice new clothes that don't reek of sewer shit. If you want to pay me back for that at all, friend, you can start by just...telling me what the fuck your deal is.
CASS: I’m just so sick of fucking worrying about you.
AGNES: It's hard to explain. But I'm not an assassin, or some kind of serial killer, or anything like that...I swear, Cass, that I'm not. If you still trust me at all, I promise I'll tell you everything once we're back from the Tops.
CASS: And you say that you promise?
AGNES: Completely. I promise you.
Beat. Their clothes are mingled on the floor of the bed. They stare at each other from across the room as CASS thinks it over.
CASS: Fine. But only because if there's one thing about you I know for sure, it is that you're not a liar.
CASS (standing): You're just very selective with telling the truth.
AGNES: Cass—
CASS (fed up): What!?
AGNES: Of course I trust you.
CASS is caught off-guard.
CASS puts her hand over her mouth, ponderous and troubled. Then, she smirks and she puts her hand on her hip. She’s over it, it seems.
CASS: Alright, alright, whatever. Just get dressed already.
AGNES takes the red dress from the wall.
CASS: I still want to hit the tables before we kill this guy.
The dress wrinkles in AGNES’ fists. The bedroom’s florescent light gleams off the 9mm bullet that she wears around her neck.
AGNES: ...
The bullet that CHET hand-loaded for her back in Goodsprings with lead retrieved from her skull.
