It's the end of February (more or less), which means that it's time for the Band of Bloggers prompts to hopefully start showing up! As you recall, The Scholarly Gamer and Fenriff have come up with this idea for a "videogame book club" where one title will be selected each month for everyone to pick up and play, then blog about! Whether you want to talk about how good it is, how thankful you are to play such an underrated gem, or simply want to curse out how bad it is, that's the purpose of this activity: to have everyone talk about the same game in whatever manner they chose!
This month's winner is Fallout 3/ New Vegas!
For my prompt, I decided to make three short fan-fiction stories based on events that happened while I was playing! These stories all happened during my time in Fallout 3 (perhaps a bit dramatized), and I gotta say, it was a joy to wander back into the Wastelands again! Without further delay, here's a couple of things I've written exclusively for Band of Bloggers!
A Drop to Die For
Wandering the Wasteland during the day, you learn to pack light: there's no need trying to kill yourself when the sun's doing that for you. Besides making sure that I got enough food and water on me, anything I can scavange, I want to make sure that I enough room to keep it. Usually, with open enough areas, you can strafe and skirt around trouble, or hide in the rocks even, so you can avoid engagements if necessary.
But sometimes... sometimes, you gotta be willing to stand in the line of fire to prevent deaths.
In this hot, barren area, I could hear shouting over a hill, so I go over to investigate. I see two men and one woman pointing their guns at two other men and another woman with their rifles at the ready, and I could tell things were going to get nasty.
"This is ours!" He points to the fridge tipped on the floor. "We saw it first!"
"Good eyes, then. I'll make sure to shoot between them."
It isn't unusual to see people willing to fight to the death in the Wasteland for stupid reasons, but this was something very worth killing for: whether that fridge is running or not, there's no denying the chance that it has some amount of purified water in it. Ever since the bombs fell, water has been irradiated so much that it gives a whole new meaning to "water poisoning", so even a sip of clean water is considered to be valuable, let alone maybe a dozen of bottles.
"Get out of here, and we won't have to kill you." He jerks his head.
"If you know what I'm about to say, you should know what I'm about to do then." The other props his gun higher.
"Whoa, there!" I immediately jump out of cover, my hands unmistakenly in the air.
These two groups are well organized: two of both sides' lower ranking soldiers snap towards me while the leaders only diverted their eyes. I walk closer slowly.
"Fellas, It doesn't have to end with y'all killing them and vice-versa." I tell them.
"What, you think you can take us all on?" The leader scoffs.
"No, dumbass, I meant this can end without bloodshed. "
The two leaders look at each other, but they couldn't see what I could see with my Perception: I could see the glimmer of hope in their eyes, a small and subtle sigh of relief.
"...How?" One woman's shoulders loosens up.
I take a step closer and closer to the fridge, my hands still up. I could see that they could see the 10mm pistol by my hip. I kneel down in front of the fridge, and I open it up. True to everyone's suspicions, there were 10 bottles of crystal clean water inside. Seeing the treasure is making both sides greedy, I take them out one at a time, placing one on one side and another on the other.
"That's 5 bottles for each side. Take your share, go home, forget this ever happened." I offer the solution.
"Fuck that, why should we have to share? We're the one who got here first!"
"And what's to stop us from killing you all and taking the rest?"
"Take a look around, geniuses: do you see where you are?" I gesture around.
"Yeah, a place no one's gonna hear us shoot," he says.
"Which also means no one around to help you if you get shot. You start shooting, one of them gets you in the chest, you won't find help for miles, and I doubt your friends are going to want to carry your ass home when your shooting attracts the Radscorpions. And trust me, you aren't going to be reason with them while you're on the ground bleeding out. So take what you got, stop being greedy assholes, and go home."
There is a silence in the air and, although begrudgingly, one person from each side carries the water while the others keep their guns trained. As both groups walk backwards, they eventually get far enough that even a sniper would have trouble getting a shot in, and once I am sure they are going to let this go, I sigh in relief myself.
I do not know what would've happened if I didn't stand up when I did: maybe one side would've been wiped out, maybe they both would've killed each other. What I do know if that, at the very least, I didn't stand back and let people die.
Last Man Standing
I don't like to kill. I try to avoid it if I can help it. Sometimes, I can talk my way out of things.
But sometimes talking isn't an option. Sometimes I'm going to need to pull out my pistol.
Either way it goes down, I'm still going to be the one standing at the end: the only difference is who will also be alive as well.
I wander into the wrong side of town. I should've gotten an uneasy feeling when I see a place entirely devoid of people in buildings as stably structured like these, but I neglect to think that in my haste to my destination.
Suddenly, a group of crazed marauders jumped me, some shooting their rifles wildly in the air as others come to kill me with melee weapons. Even with my pistol out, it doesn't seem to act like a deterrent to the people running right up to me with their lead pipes: either they are really confident that I wasn't going to shoot them, or they just don't think anymore.
I shoot them. They don't think anymore.
But that's the easy part. Hunching down behind cover, one of the assault rifle-wielding marauders spray the sheet metal shielding me while creeping closer and closer. Big mistake: they would have to reload, and that's when I get them with a clean headshot. Even bigger mistake is that now that I'm close enough to safely grab the rifle, that the tables have turned.
I jump out and spray at the rest immediately, trying to injure them as best I could. Truth be told, I don't invest much skill and practice into these larger weapons, but if I can cripple their arms or legs, then I could finish them off easily. As they continue to suppress me, a shotgunner comes in close hoping for a kill, but thankfully it's a double barrel, and the person using it sucks at handling the blowback it carries. After two missed shots, I take them out.
A shotgun wouldn't do me any good at this range, but I figured there's no harm in taking it. While I'm at it, I did see a couple of grenades sticking to this person's belt. Nabbing a few to "temporarily" borrow, I chuck them to the rest of the marauders, blowing them to bits.
With the noisy gunfire subsided, and the quiet atmosphere taking over, I figure that these guns would make great items to barter for Stimpacks, maybe even a luxury item like a Nuka-Cola. I start to scavange for supplies, happy that my bag is empty.
The marauders seem to be holding up in a building nearby, and as I pass through the door, I could see one bald-headed female's body limping at the entrance. Her head keeps bobbing up and down, but I was sure she was dead, judging by the hole in her left temple. Checking my PipBoy 3000, I could see that there's nary a red dot in sight, and that I could relax for a little bit. I don't know if these people had any friends, and I didn't want to stick around and find out, but if they do, I wouldn't want them to have these weapons.
I start looting their stuff, thinking it'll benefit me and the world more than these assholes, and head upstairs to take the rest. I check my PipBoy once more: no red dots. I continue scavanging. I check it again: no red dots. I keep searching for ammo, food, anything. I check it again: no red dots. Why am I being paranoid?
After nabbing everything I thought would be worth the weight, I decide to head downstairs. I could see that the bald-headed chick is still limping by the door, but something's off about her. I continue to head downstairs to check why, but then I realize: this bald-headed chick has no hole in her left temple as she not slump behind cover... but crouch behind. Good thing that revelation hit me before her surprise missile did.
I immediately run back upstairs and dodge the missle, though still within the blast radius. Shellshocked and blown back, I lie there in a daze, on the ground, hearing her maniacal laughter: I don't know if it's because she's about to avenge her twin sister, or if she just really want to kill anyone she sees, but she's coming for me. As she approaches the upstairs room, I instinctively grab the first weapon I could hold, and blast her in the chest as soon as she walks into view.
I didn't expect her to attempt to shoot another missile while in a building though. As the shotgun shells connect with her missile shells, it blows her up instantly, and her blood is splattered all over my face. Lying back fully, I close my eyes, assured that there would be no one else.
I wasn't standing. But close enough.
Divide and Conquer
"...Oh, uh, yeah? What's up?"
"...Yeah. Yeah, let's get going."
I never had a partner before to ask if I was ready or not. Usually, if I was ready, there wasn't anyone around to hear it, and I certainly wasn't going announce it to the people who were.
But it feels... strangely calm to travel with one, especially with someone who can handle an assault rifle better than I can. Knowing that someone can watch my back in hostile territory and cover me when I need to heal or reload is reassuring. Teaming up under dire circumstances, we are sent to destroy 3 artillery gun, and they're just beyond this building. With my 10mm pistol, we head into a warehouse full of guards, ready to go in guns blazing.
"What the...?" My partner is the first to note.
There wasn't anyone there. We charge in, our weapons raised, but there doesn't seem to be a soul in sight. As we stand by the entrance, we couldn't tell what happened.
"Think they heard the gunfire and ran?" He cocks his head.
"Either that or they're planning an ambush."
"What do you think we should do then?" He looks towards me.
"...Let's search the place. If they're not here, then maybe we'll find a clue as to where they went. And if they are here, then at least they won't get us both at the same time."
"Are you sure you want to split up?" He's not asking for his well-being.
"I'll be fine." I nudge my head to the left, and with a shrug, he complies and heads right.
As the sound of his footsteps gets quieter and quieter the further he gets, I try my best to keep my guard up: something about this place just doesn't feel right. Eventually, the only footsteps I hear are my own, and it's starting to creep me out. I almost wish there was people here just so I could kill them all and feel at ease.
"Oh, shit!" He calls out.
I spin around, my gun immediately raised. Gunfire echoes throughout the empty warehouse, but whose?
"You okay?" I call out after the silence. It continues. "Hey, you alright?"
I take one step forward, preparing myself for the worst for my companion... only to start to fear for my own fate.
As soon as I sense movement on my right, I fire a couple of shots, only to have my gun suddenly raised towards the ceiling. I don't know what's going on: I could feel an arm holding mine up, but I couldn't see it, aside from a very faint sheen that glows under the lights.
So this is what it looks to the enemies when I'm using a Stealth Boy.
Getting over the initial surprise, I attempt to kick whoever's holding my arm with a boot to the belly, but they must be covered in some grade-A armor because I end up hurting myself. The enemy then starts crushing my arm, forcing me to drop my pistol. Eventually, their invisibility starts fading away, and soon I could see who my assailant is.
"What are you, some kind of cyborg ninja?" I stare at his helmet.
He responds by tossing me away, ensuring that I land on my back. Needing both hands to pull a blade, he brandishes it in front of my face, ready to slice me down the middle.
Recovering quickly, I roll to the side towards where my pistol lies, hoping he doesn't know what I'm trying to do. As soon as my hands rests comfortably over the trigger, I bring myself up to a kneel, then focus as best as I could.
Everything appears to be standing still, and figuring that I have a less chance of missing by aiming for center mass, I decide to use all my shots trying to plug him in the chest. Sure, my shoes couldn't penetrate his armor, but a 10mm pistol could... right?
Clink. Clink clink clink. The enemy stands there unfazed, his helmet seemingly smiling on my futile attempts. Even with my gun, I was powerless to stop him.
But that doesn't mean I wasn't going to give up. Even if my bullets are about as effective as flinging spaghetti rings, I couldn't help but continue pulling the trigger, hoping that at least one bullet gets through.
To my surprise, one does: it blows open his helmet so fiercely that the man's head gets reduced to a bloody pulp, looking as though someone took a huge bite of a peach and stuck it in the helmet. But it wasn't mine, nor the five others to follow.
I turn around. The smoking barrel of a .44. The long sleeve of a trench coat. The fedora on top of his head.
I turn my attention back to the cyborg ninja, who lies motionless aside from the puddle of blood to seep out of him.
"Hey, I heard gunshots, was that you?"
The man I came into the warehouse with before arrives to check up on me. Aside from his slightly tussled hair and his exhaustive breaths, he seems perfectly fine.
"Damn, you really did a number on that guy!"
"Wasn't me." I couldn't take the credit. "It was-"
I rotate my body only slightly, but even at a full 360 degrees would I not spot my savior. The warehouse is empty.
"Was... what?" The man cocks his head.
"...Nothing. I meant to say 'it was nothing'."
"Whatever you say, man! Come on, let's go kill the rest of these bastards!"
"Yeah, just give me a minute."
I need to take a breather. I don't sense any more enemies, nor the guy who saved my ass. All I could see in the warehouse is my partner making his way to the exit, the dead bodies of the ninjas we fought, and a mysteriously placed, fully loaded shotgun sitting by my feet.
That's my contribution for this month's Band of Bloggers, and I hope to see what you guys have to say about Fallout 3/ New Vegas! I also can't wait to see what other titles we'll get a chance to play for the first time, or revisit in forever!