"Blood, Sweat and Tears"

[Maharg67]

AliasTheory, please do not be so hard on yourself.

 

A big mistake made by many, especially new writers, is that being a good writer is the same as being a good writerr of stories or even a particular type of story; this is not true. This is why some good writers tend only to be good writing poems or short stories or novels while being bad at writing other types of writing.

 

The placement of chapters, the linking of chapters, is not a skill that comes easily or automatically. Like many other facets of longer story writing it takes practise and the willingness to make mistakes, to not look perfect in the eyes of others.

 

So, just keep up the good work, please.

 

[AliasTheory]

I frankly already knew that...but thank you for the recall. Description does say, "first time," but eh. I appreciate it.

 

I have the biggest headache ever right now. :wallbash:

[Maharg67]

AliasTheory, I was once told we need to always be learning and any time you are writing is the 'first time'. I have written many pieces of fanfic but to me every new piece of writing is my 'first time'. I like your writing very much. In some ways it is simpler than my own, which too often is too complicated. We all have our strengths and weaknesses as writers and I am trying to overcome my weaknesses. Just keep on writing on.

[AliasTheory]

Okay, now that I am back with a clearer, non-brain fried mind...

 

I see your point. But to some extent, we carry on from our experience and in improve that way. There's a logical component that compliments every artistic one. As I mentioned to Keanu, I believe we all asymptotically approach writing perfection, so as you say, keep writing on.

 

Next post WILL be something since I have the time now. I've developed the entire plot as of the moment, so this story thing will go on for at least three times as long chapter wise. Four times in writing length, maybe.

[Maharg67]

http://i592.photobucket.com/albums/tt9/Dragonpen61/Forum%20Additives/ScreenShot229-1-1.jpg

Edited November 17, 2010 by Maharg67

[AliasTheory]

<----- BACKWARD

 

============================

Chapter 14: Crude Samaritan

============================

 

Leaving the now abandoned ruins of Project Purity behind, we ready ourselves to step back into the hostile Capital Wasteland. A formerly closed memorial door opens up to reveal a now calmer overcast, the sky a blanket of grey. Lyn doesn’t bother to hold the door open for us as she packs away her night vision goggles. Mist now dances above the watery channel. As the sun stealthily approaches its zenith, ten boots and four paws drag their way through the surrounding shrubbery and vegetation, and back onto the fractured road. The new lady in charge is quiet but fast in pace, bearing an aura that rubs off as mysterious and interestingly linear; far ahead from us four in distance, she proceeds on in unparalleled aggression. A humid day, it seems. It’s all business.

 

It is only mere moments from our departure before conversation ensues. A cool, light drizzle begins to fall.

 

“Hey Saori.” Butch nudges her arm. “I’ve always wondered…why do you wear your clothes like that? You know…”

 

Our Vault suits are all identical in design, with a pale, yellow zipper running straight down from the neckline to the waistline. (Now that I think about it, where’s Lyn’s? I need to ask that later, too.) Butch is obviously referring to her half-zipped top, exposing her cleavage.

 

“Wha-what? What kind of a question is that?!”

 

With closed eyes and an open hand, she slaps his shoulder, almost as if she couldn’t bear the sight herself. Promptly, she wraps herself in her arms and shrivels up in embarrassment.

 

“Ow! Well…it’s just a question, alright? It’s not normal.”

 

“Or exactly socially acceptable,” I add.

 

“It’s the Wasteland, idiots! It’s hot, okay? I can do whatever I want.”

 

“Okay, okay, I get the picture…even on a day like this…“

 

“I could ask the same weird questions about you and your gun, Butch!” she sasses. “You sure you’re not using it to compensate for something else?”

 

I look to my right, begging for some attention, and sure enough Saya’s eyes meet mine; we can only roll them in disappointment.

 

“Hey, hey! What the-“

 

“Be QUIET, you children.” That’s Lyn, flashing a cybernetic eye glaring with anger. Her infuriated visage is enough to immediately silence everyone; a strange, paralyzing fear pervades throughout. “I did not ask for you all to tag along for your useless, trash commentary.” A panting Dogmeat, tail wagging, continues by her side in blind loyalty, unfazed by her sudden outburst.

 

“Butch, just shut up,” I scold. “I also slipped some quick food into your bag as we were leaving Rivet City. I know how you like that Wanamingo meat.”

 

“Wow, sweet dude, tha - wait a minute…”

 

He tersely squints at me with a sour face: the same old, crumply one he does every time I pull a smooth move on him. I’m such a sneaky guy…like a ninja.

 

“Also Saori, there’s some fresh Mirelurk eggs for you. I figured you’d be fit for such a delicacy after your little breakdown.”

 

“Ahh! Stop it! Don’t remind me.” Her eyes shift away for a moment, then return into focus. “But thanks for caring.” As she proceeds to tame her elegant yet unruly black hair, one of her many ways of hiding her shame, a warm smile forms across her face.

 

As the two munch away with Saya in their company, I turn my attention back to the road ahead, and I can only sigh. Lyn Fabre. The day I get through her oddity and enigma of a mind will be a great one, that’s for sure. I just need to wait for the right time to make the move, but I still need some more information to satisfy my cravings. I approach the limits of what I think are of her peripheral vision, but keep my distance.

 

http://www.fallout3nexus.com/imageshare/images/2144141-1289755122.jpg

 

We’re at the end of the bridge and on the docks, soon turning the corner up ahead. I forcefully clear my throat, albeit only loudly enough for her to acknowledge me.

 

“You never told me where we’re going, Lyn.”

 

She gives me no eye contact. “We’re going to the Vault-Tec Headquarters. We’ll get there via metro.” Her voice is very calm and monotone, a dramatic contrast from her outrage. “After that’s the National Guard Depot. That’s all. They have the parts, and I need them.”

 

“What are these parts you need? Perhaps Saori and her technical skills could help you out,” I offer.

 

“Aside from Dogmeat, I work alone.”

 

“Answer the question then, please.”

 

“You want to know more, huh? Well, we’re looking for some sort of ion exchanger. Some larger variant made for the bigger Vaults. They’re able to synthetically produce the resins from surrounding natural compounds, and even 101 had one of them for water purification.”

 

“Heh. See?” I wink. I still remember some of this from the old chemistry texts I read. “You know your stuff too.”

 

There’s no response to my comment; Lyn just continues with her lecture. “Someone’s going to need to haul it back. Get Butch to do it. Then the N.G.D. and we’re done. It has some Stealth Boys that were never put into military circulation because the models were highly experimental. Ended up just screwing with people; made schizos out of all of ‘em. Their advanced light-bending properties will be useful if I can get them to work for other wavelengths, killing whatever micro-sized, radioactive scum are living in the water. Just need the field generators and nothing else.”

 

“…and how do you know all this again?”

 

“I saw the blueprints and layout plans for Purity. This isn’t my work, you know. I’m just following the damn directions.”

 

“Oh, right.” I silently curse to myself. “Fine. And next time, look at me when we’re talking.”

 

“Hmph. It doesn’t matter. After this, we’re through.”

 

I fall back and let her assume the lead once again. Holy crap; Lyn’s so different from what I remember, and I still can’t get over it. I know some people have had it hard out here, but goddamn. What got shoved up her a** and died?

 

My body goes into auto-pilot as I zone out into the labyrinth of clouds.

 

“You didn’t know? Lyn was an orphan before the Palmers adopted her. Well, not officially at least.”

 

“Alright, look; I can’t tell. She’s so quiet, and hardly utters a word anymore. What’s up with that?”

 

“Who knows. Ugh. Why do you think?”

 

“ I’m asking you. Anyway, I never used to REALLY talk to her if you know what I mean…I kind of just humored her. Always wanted to role-play. She’s 18 now; about two years behind me.”

 

“18 or not, I think someone needs to talk to this girl. I hear her sob day and night, now more often than ever.”

 

“What? Really? This never used to happen before…but Jonas is the physician. Damn Palmer. Doesn’t that guy know?”

 

“Doesn’t look like it…hey, you hear that?”

 

“Oh, wow. It seems you’re right. That’s her.”

 

“Ha. Told you. See, that’s proof right there. She’ll never be able to join the Sna-”

 

“…get DOWN! GET DOWN!”

 

I shake out of my stupor, bewildered by Lyn’s bark of a whisper. Everyone else is low to the ground, wary, even Dogmeat, and I am quick to bandwagon.

 

“Sniper! The tower bridge up ahead…! Don’t have anything except this damn thing…stupid handgun…” She starts muttering to herself. Sure enough, I spot a figure – positively human – possibly a hundred yards away. But he just seems to be passing by.

 

“Lyn,” Saya coaxes, “it’s okay. He might have a gun but he doesn’t seem like he’s looking for anyone and he’s huma-”

 

“Give me yours! Give me your sniper!”

 

Saya is caught off guard, and so are the rest of us. Butch and Saori look at me with faces telling me “do something,” but again I’m reduced to merely observe. I think I feel fear. But why? What do I do…?

 

“What!? Who? Me?”

 

“NOW!”

 

In panic, Saya removes her sniper rifle from her backside, and Lyn snatches it with disregard. In a few seconds, the man will cross the ridge ahead and vanish from sight. Once again, I spot that powerful, glowing eye, even in broad daylight.

 

It’s not even her weapon, but she treats it as so. As she rips back the retractable stock and yanks back the bolt, in our silence I can hear the gun parts moving, the next cartridge abruptly sliding into place. It only takes a split second to aim and pull the trigger, and as if struck by some divine intervention, life leaves the poor soul as swiftly as it came. He’s gone, just like that. The V.A.T.S., even at this range, is incredibly effective. The roar of the graceful yet mechanical brute resonates and persists for what feels like an eternity.

 

The body of the man remains erect and motionless, though only briefly before his rapid descent. From the building bridge at least three floors up, he tumbles through the air and hits the inclined road in an echoing crunch, slowly rolling…and rolling…until he’s right in front of us. A red paste confirms his path.

 

Malnourished, of dark skin, now bloody and filthy. Wrinkles, scars and rags. Old and graying.

 

Innocent.

 

We three in the audience are frozen in horror. Saya collapses to her hands and knees in front of the body, her breathing short and irregular.

 

Forgive me, fellow wastelander…please do. I wasn’t fast enough. And strong enough.

 

“Huh.” Lyn shrugs. “Seems I was wrong. Pity there’s nothing useful on you. Not even these sniper parts will be of use because they are just TOO old…an unsurprising coincidence indeed.”

 

I quickly break free of the chains of terror to accompany a trembling Saya. Lyn just shakes her head in disgust.

 

“It seems age has no difference in maturity. Please. Grow up.”

 

“Lyn,” I assert. “Cool it. Recall we’re in this together. Don’t screw it up.”

 

She just faces away from the rest of us and towards the nearby metro: the pathway to our destination. I kneel down by Saya, hand on her arched back.

 

“I’m sorry, Saya. I understand you’re still not fine when it comes to these things up close, even after nearly three years. But it’s a reality we all have to deal with, and you know the rest: that’s why you’re our long range specialist. Death sucks, especially when it’s like this. This isn’t the Grognakian world of our dreams.”

 

A light breeze blows by, carrying some remnants of who knows what.

 

“You’re a tough girl, and I know that for a fact. We’ve all made it this far. But guns…their minds are only our own.”

 

…

 

It’s as if time has stopped. My voice is the only voice. The only sound.

 

“The Almodovar family has never been the violent type, has it?”

 

FORWARD ----->

Edited January 3, 2011 by AliasTheory

[AliasTheory]

We're going to play a little game this time around.

 

Bonus points and cookies for those who spot at least three references in this one not entirely from the Fallout canon. Not exactly pop culture. Some are more obvious than others. Went happy with it this time. :)

[BlueDanube]

no matter how many times i read it,i still can't find it.little hint plz :S

[Odile]

Catching back up on this. Great job with the latest chapter. I think your writing is wonderful--I especially like the characters' dialogue. When I write things it's hard for me to have the characters speaking in a manner that is unique to them individually, know what I mean? You've done a great job in that respect, I think!

 

Anyway, I didn't really spot anything non-canon, but...I wasn't really looking, either. :3

[AliasTheory]

Thanks Odile! And uh, thanks...BD. :P

 

I doubt many people will catch my references anyway, but maybe I'll spill the beans later. Perhaps it will inspire some to a little bit of personal research. :)

 

Hint: they are all after the flashback.