War Never Changes

an original fallout rp established in 2012 | player driven, world building | no word count, no character limit, includes Fallout 1 - 4

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CELEBRATING GREAT WAR DAY! Attention, dwellers, the vault-door is officially open to the wasteland. It's a brave new world, let's make the best of it! Welcome to "War Never Changes," we hope you survive your stay.

Vault Maintenance It's been a long time that we've been locked inside this vault, so please have patience as we sort out any kinks with the system. If you see something that needs attention, please let an Overseer know.

10.23 "War Never Changes" DLC launches. Public reopening begins.

09.30 After 4 good years, the story concludes. Fallout 66 ends.

Race Ratio Oct. 2016

Human
Ghoul
Super Mutant
Synthetic
Psyker
Robotic
Animal
Faction Ratio Oct. 2016

Wastelander
BoS
Raider
NCR
Legion
FotA
Minute-Men
Railroad
Institute
Group Ratio Oct. 2016

Union Station
River King
The House
Vault 58
Carousel Crypt
The Clinic
W.R.C.C.
War... war never changes. It began with the bombing of the old world. Nuclear fire destroyed much of the American Commonwealth, and what survived did so by adjusting to the wasteland left in war's wake. 200 years later, out of the development of the Boneyard, the Will Roger Caravan Company took up the challenge to establish the Route 66 highway as a caravan trade route, stretching from NCR controlled California to the Brotherhood of Steel in Chicago, Illinois. Their progress met its end in St. Louis, "Missury," where a year-long campaign ended in another nuclear detonation to the city.

Months after the blast, survivors and drifters alike creep back into the ruins of the old world wreck. The shattered remains of establishments shake off the Fallout and carry on. The bones of St. Louis stir again with life...

October-December, 2299

The temperature is dropping, but it's nothing like the blizzard of 2298. Proper shelter at night is becoming non-negotiable. Drifters must either pool their resources to afford a homestead or they must rent from one of the few establishments remaining.

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 Tired Of Toeing The Line, tag: Preston, Kit
Bonnibel Swain
 Posted: Aug 17 2016, 10:48 AM
QUOTE
18 years
Human race
Followers
Lawful Good
biography by FEV Failure

SKILLS

Medicine Science Sneak Energy Weapons

PERKS

Computer Whiz Robotics Expert Child at Heart Light Step Fortune Finder
Strength
3/10
Perception
8/10
Endurance
3/10
Charisma
5/10
Intelligence
9/10
Agility
7/10
Luck
5/10

WEAPONS

Scoped Laser Rifle

Bolts the Eyebot

Heavy books

COMPANION

Refurbished eyebot named "Bolts". Shy but faithful to its maker.
Message
Plotter
Inventory
Development
Wallet
Caps: 117
Adventures
99
Text
FBB117


May 6, 2299 - The Clinic



She'd been tending to the sick when Preston had showed up, telling her there was a visitor calling for her. She'd looked up from the rickety box-spring where the freshly laundered rag they called a blanket was pooled over the heaving body of the sixty-sixer she'd been caring for. The clinic was overflowing these days with bodies dragging their way inside, staggering their way back out days later. Most of the patients being seen within the past month or so had been raiders. The riders from Union Station. It was uncanny. By the end of last year they'd been riding so high after their diabolical rampage through Downtown. They'd hit everywhere hard and merciless - everywhere but the clinic, which tended to all in need, regardless of alliance. Then but a couple months ago, that fiasco with the Brotherhood of Steel. She was a little sketchy on the details, but the undeniable truth was that the raiders were still at the train depot. She'd have thought that such victory would have kept them riding their own wave of invincibility for months... only it hadn't.

Bo had no explanation for their sudden surge in presence at her clinic, but it wasn't hard to diagnose the symptoms present in every case coming in through her front doors. Radiation poisoning. Extreme exposure, no less. At first she'd wondered what kind of fools the raiders were to be traipsing around where such high pockets of concentrated rads were brewing, but after some inquiring, she'd learned something. The raiders weren't dipping their toes into the invisible poison, the radiation was coming out after them. It seemed preposterous a thought until the initial claim was substantiated by further telling the more she asked after it. Sure enough, somehow, somewhere out in the Ruins, rads were claiming back the city like a slow tide. If such things were true then it was an unsettling reality.

The number of Union boys blowing in through the doors was a steady flow for a month. There was no end in sight and any hope Bo had that maybe this mysterious radiation flood would reach its peak and simply ebb away began to fade. The problem didn't seem to be remedying itself and there really wasn't anyone she could think to go to about her sudden concerns. What if the tide never pulled back? What would happen if the Ruins were completely saturated and the borders of Downtown were no longer borders at all? They could do what they could for the sick at the clinic, but even that was quickly beginning to slip from their hands. At this point, the Follower's stash of Rad-Away and Rad-X was all but depleted. The stock of punga they'd been hoarding from The Spillway was reaching the end of the line. What plants they'd managed to grow themselves had already been picked clean. As things now stood, there was little they could do for the sick other than comfort and care for them the best that they could. Graves were being dug across the road, out by the waterfront - not every one of them filled with the body of a Sixer.

Things were starting to get bad out there. How long did Downtown have before their bubble of blissful ignorance was popped?

And she couldn't think of anyone she could take these burdens to. Who did they have at this point anyway? The only ones who had stood up to the assault on the settlers had been the Brotherhood of Steel. None of the Downtown locals themselves had risen to the occasion. No one had gone out of their way to do anymore than survive and take care of their own. It was far from what Bo had hoped the people of St. Louis would come to be - a bunch of self-invested squatters tackling just enough of the world to see their own lot looked after. It was a hard thing to swallow, but Bo forced herself to grimace and gulp. Maybe she really was being too idealistic about the reality of the city? Maybe her life growing up under the safe glow of New Vegas had tinted her view of what the rest of the wasteland could be? Preston had suggested as much before, albeit gently and patiently. Roy had said the same... a long long time ago. Her brother had warned her, years ago, that the rest of the Commonwealth was not as well off like their narrow strip of the Mojave where securitrons roamed in the name of the Courier's law and order.

There were no securitrons out in St. Louis, and the Midwest was far from the lasting control the Courier's influence had left behind. They had no enigmatic figure out here, rising from out of nowhere to bully a wasteland into submission. They only had themselves. Maybe that had failed to be enough.

These thoughts spun endlessly at the back of her mind as she bustled about, doing what little she could for her patients. It felt bitterly humorous that the clinic would now have enough help to manage along comfortably only to lack the proper resources to do anything useful. When she'd first arrived in St. Louis, the clinic had struggled to survive off the efforts of two. Now there were plenty of doctors and medics in the city, and now the city appeared to be turning against the people living in it. Plenty of medics, sure. Plenty of medics to stand by and helplessly watch radiation claim one life after the next. Some might say good riddance, but Bo didn't see a difference whether a raider was the victim to poisoning or a simple traveler. A person was still a person. She fussed after one the same way she'd fuss after another - and it was in the middle of her fussing that Preston had let her know a visitor had come calling after her. Bo couldn't think who until, following after the ridiculously tall doctor, she entered into the medic's wing across the lobby and found Kit Wright waiting for her in their small, cluttered office.

It was a bit of a surprise. Bo really hadn't seen much of the River King mobster since her attempt to coax a real community out of the leading establishments of the time. That had obviously failed, none of those who had been present for the conference had done anything about seeing Downtown established into an honest-to-God settlement. It had been much to her disappointment. So here was Kit Wright standing like he had a crate worth of bad news to unload in their establishment and Bo couldn't help but suspect that somehow it had something to do with the happenings filling up the clinic. And vaguely, distantly, she found herself flabbergasted that of all the people she could think of to have expected to hear word from, that it should be Kit Wright told volumes about the state of the people living in the city and where responsibility was falling to.

Bo brushed a bushel of orange curls from her face. "Kit, I'm... uh... a bit, well, surprised. I... ah... I don't think I've ever, er, seen you in the clinic before..." and she gave a weak little laugh.
^
Preston Pryce
 Posted: Aug 31 2016, 10:22 PM
QUOTE
24 years
Human race
FotA, Enclave
N/A
biography by Eye[bot]Lashes

SKILLS

N/A N/A N/A N/A

PERKS

N/A N/A N/A N/A N/A
Strength
7/10
Perception
5/10
Endurance
5/10
Charisma
5/10
Intelligence
9/10
Agility
5/10
Luck
4/10

WEAPONS

pulse pistol

plasma rifle

N/A

COMPANION

N/A
Message
Plotter
Inventory
Development
Wallet
Caps: 5
Adventures
51
Text
888866


Since his arrival, things had not gone so well for Preston. Certainly not the way he had hoped they would go. One disaster after another. Everything going wrong more often than not. It was as if this place didn’t want to work out, or maybe it just took more people to make it happen, and they just didn’t have the manpower to do so. It didn’t matter though, either way he was looking to leave. He’d kept it a secret that he was corresponding with other outposts, the only issue at hand was Bo. Preston couldn’t bring himself to abandon her.

He held on to the thought that things might get better. They might just turn around. New businesses, new venues were popping up. More people were coming to St. Louis. There was a chance, a sliver of hope that things were going to go in the right direction. They didn’t though. In the past few months, things hadn’t gotten any better. And now...now, they were even worse. Worse than worse, it was downright miserable.

After the battle at the Union Station, the Clinic had an influx of patients. Most of them had come in sick with radiation poisoning. The radiation wasn’t going away either, it was spreading. Spreading like an invisible fire. Before the pair knew it, their supplies were practically dried out. It was both a blessing and a burden. A burden because they had such little to treat their patients with. A blessing because maybe, just maybe this is what Preston needed to convince Bo to leave St. Louis with him.

That very day though, the clinic had an unexpected visitor. Preston wasn’t sure if the casino mob boss was going to bring good news or bad news. Actually, the doctor wasn’t really what was he’d consider bad news at this point. Maybe the guy was going to offer them supplies or some kind of help. That would almost be bad. He didn’t want to stay here anymore and he didn’t want this guy showing up to ruin his chance at getting Bo to leave with him. Preston really wasn’t sure what to think, so he lingered around by Bo’s side to see what Kit Wright of the River King Casino had to say.
^
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