Red Sam the Mechanical Man

[Ritherdon]

Red Sam the Mechanical Man

 

It began in a storage locker at a rapidly decaying RobCo factory near Racine, Illinois, and though there is much that remains to be written, the story of Red Sam the Mechanical Man is thus far brimming with adventure. Though his head is full of wires and his body a patchwork of the old world devices and recycled scrap metal he is constantly salvaging in order to keep himself in working order, his mind has been inexorably altered by a strange occurrence, thanks to which he both became aware of that fact that he is an automaton and discovered that he still processes information not unlike a human being would despite the artificial nature of his intelligence. Sam feels for those around him, and is even capable of making judgements based on empathetic impulses derived from solid mathematical calculations due to the modifications that were done to him in the distant past... modifications that involved alien technology.

 

It took him time to find his way in the devastated world amid the ongoing struggle between factions of people; people who at one time had it all before the glorious achievements of the civilizations of the past were brought to ruin by the barbarity of their descendents. Ultimately, he came to believe that the future could be a brighter one, but only if one such as himself were to occupy the throne of the wasteland. What humans needed was benevolence and prudence, education, and above all safety from the rabid elements of their own society who longed to prolong the chaos, and to reap the benefits that perpetual lawlessness provided for the soulless. In short, watching mankind scrape by was not enough. Sadly, this was the same power trap that had claimed the purity of the well-intentioned leaders who had come before him, including the butcher Caesar and the Burned Man.

 

One way or another, he would mold what remained of humanity into a decent and respectable form of life.

 

This is less of a writing project and more of a art project. What follows are snapshots from Sam's life, each one accompanied by a piece of fiction (some short, some quite long) that fits the bill in terms of what you're seeing, and I hope people get a kick out of it. Sticking with and continuously developing a character isn't easy, and I know, because I'm the sort of guy who could spend days on a character creation screen given the opportunity, but when you have something you feel really, genuinely comfortable with, my advice is to always take it as far as you logically can. That process is where the meat of a good game, a good picture, and a good read lies; keeping at it and uncovering more and more about why it sounded so good in the first place.

 

Hopefully this project will eventually evolve into the proper movie I've wanted to make featuring a Bethesda game for the past few years, as well as a comic strip (although pithiness isn't one of my strong suits). Sam will be the focus of the feature, but I'm not interested in doing anything that isn't going to look damn good, so that may be a ways off. We've started working on it, but for now actually playing the character is the focus. I have metaphorical rooms full of unpolished, undeveloped ideas.

 

The Man I Was

Sam discovers what he really is. Not an easy pill to swallow, but he manages.

 

Mechanical Killer

Sam prepares to venture forth from Goodsprings and track Benny down.

 

Nevada Gold

The trail through the Mojave eventually lead to Camp Forlorn Hope, where was was much to be done and much to see.

 

Volksmachine

His hatred (if he is even capable of such a thing) for the Legion burns eternally. The Centurion from Phoenix was one of the worst of them.

 

Robot Relaxation

After a long day of slaying villains and monstrosities, and with little or no will to do it again tomorrow, even machines need to "power down" on occasion.

 

Those Nights

Sometimes fate simply refuses to reveal even a small glimpse of the horrors in store for us. Sam knows this well.

 

Off the Air

Both the journey to the Sierra Madre and the return from it were taxing. The voice that lured him there had to be silenced once and for all.

 

Stacking the Odds

As soon as Sam got to Vegas, the tables were a logical place to begin getting to know the people. Naturally, he checks his card counting software at the door.

 

When to Fold

His first meeting with Mr. House was a disaster. That's what you get for snubbing the big chief and going after your foes all by your lonesome.

 

Alone at the Top

Being independently wealthy and yet still at the mercy of the grand designs of others is a remarkably lonely position to be in.

 

Heavy Support

Sam was taking a break from the hustle and bustle of New Vegas, accompanying a caravan north to Utah. Though disaster struck, he still had the benefit of heavy support.

 

Utah Facepalm

Not everyone Sam encounters sees things his way. Spiritualism holds little sway in his life. Such notions only cloud the way forward, and hinder our progress.

 

Raise Your Weapon

When nowhere you can run could ever be as safe as the ground you stand upon, you must fight to defend it. That logic drove Sam's actions at Zion, and drives them still.