Fallout 4: Angel's Pip-Boy Diary #4 · 1:25am Nov 19th, 2015
"My First Hour in Fallout 4"
"Holy shit, look what I found"
art by Total-Krazen
I normally only do these blogs once a week. I'm running out of things to say in this opening segment. So without further adieu (but with a spoiler-protecting break), I present the next installment of Angel's Pip-Boy Diary.
I hope you all enjoy this.
(Also, if interest in this diary wanes, please let me know. I want to put this content out regularly enough for readers to enjoy, but I don't want to spam my fans if they grow uninterested.)
Angel's Pip-Boy Diary
Days 5 - 6
Day 5
October 28, 2287I find myself only sleeping a few hours each night. I haven’t slept this little since law school. I know it can’t be healthy. But I feel rested enough. And the truth is that I don’t want to sleep. It’s the dreams that are getting to me.
Last night, I dreamed about finding Shaun. But in the dream, he was not a baby, but an old man. Wheelchair bound, with a veritable spider’s web of IV bags and hosing. I don’t recall most of the dream. It faded as soon as my eyes opened to the sight of Baker’s cellar. But that vision remained. I felt hollow and on the verge of tears for at least an hour. Worse, I felt ashamed that I didn’t dream of Nate. Although I’m sure those dreams are coming, and will be just as wrenching when they invade my sleep.
The dream has left me thinking about the reasons that Shaun’s kidnappers would have upset the Vault cryogenics to get to him. If they just wanted a baby, there have to be easier ones to get to. There’s always nature’s way. But no, they wanted Shaun. And they considered me a “back-up” but had no care whatsoever for Nate’s life. If they wanted a symbol, Nate would have been the back-up. He was the soldier, the American hero. I’ve thought about this a lot, and the only reason I can imagine for needing a specific baby, with a specific parent as an acceptable substitute, is medical.
That cryogenic experiment must have gathered a host of medical information about us. Information that it was then sending on to some Vault-Tec facility. The same one where somebody initiated the remote override that freed me. It makes sense that the descendants of Vault-Tec, or the people who took over that location, had access to both the remote systems and the gathered data. They must have been looking for some medical trait – a natural immunity or some genetic feature – something my son would have had, and I would have, but Nate would not. The question is: what?
I’ve had plenty of time for thoughts today. Those thoughts included marveling at how violent my life has become. Today I only fought for my life once, and somehow that has become a “slow day”. I remember when “busy days” involved only figurative bloodshed.
On the upside, I found where all the molerats that attacked us at the Red Rocket came from.
There is a cave under the shop. The employees were using it as a dumping ground. While, I noticed, they were getting accolades for their environmental consciousness. They even won the “Trashbusters Award” for their excellent work in reducing waste. Because of course they were corrupt. Like Wicked Shipping was corrupt. Corruption was, after all, so in-vogue in 2077. Heck, I fed off it, both as a defense lawyer and class actions. That was, before Nate came home.
As much as I shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, I have to agree with them about the Vault-Tec rep having been an “uppity asshole”. And they were doing right by Rosa, who needed their help fixing the engine of that classic Corvega she was restoring with her son. So there was the normal mixture of good with the bad. They were corrupt, not cartoon villains.
I’m considering the Red Rocket as a homestead. The site is perfect. And the station had recently upgraded, making it an idea workshop. Sanctuary Hills was my home… but the place is full of memories. Red Rocket is close while maintaining a healthier distance from all that I’ve lost.
The small cave is filled with junk, much of it radioactive. Also, glowing mushrooms and fungus that looks like brains. I fear that I’m growing numb to just how weird the world has become. Anyway, the radiation down there prevents me from trying to clean or convert the cave; so if I do make the Red Rocket a homestead, that place will need to be sealed off. Preferably, eventually filled with concrete.
I’ve crossed Vault 111 off the list. After clearing the small cave under Red Rocket of its pest problem, I decided it would be better to get more rest and to re-supply before heading into Concord. The town isn’t going anywhere. So I went back to the Vault to get some pure water, pick up anything I hadn’t sufficiently scavenged, and take care of some pressing personal business.
While there, I took note again of the cryo-weapon that the overseer had locked up in a case that I just could not crack. I turned around, and the next thing I knew, my dog had it in his mouth, offering it to me. He’s not just a better looter than me. I swear that dog is magic.
I took everything from the Vault that could be useful. But more importantly, I took Nate and gave him a proper burial. He deserved a military funeral with full honors. Instead, just the dog and I were in attendance.
Tomorrow: Concord. No more putting it off.
Oh, before I forget: this morning, I took the locket back to the Abernathy’s. In thanks, Connie is willing to offer me better prices on goods, and Blake will allow me to use his workshop. But the biggest reward is knowing what I did would have made Nate proud.
New Perk: Sneak Rank 1
Day 6 - Morning
October 29, 2287Breakfast, work in the workshop, then I was off to Concord.
Along the way, I was struck by the oddest question: how did the world fill with so many piles of tires? I swear these weren’t here before the bombs.
Concord is beautiful. Picturesque. If it wasn’t for the loud pops in the distance, it would be serene. There are banners everywhere asking people to celebrate history, yet I can’t fool myself into believing those are fireworks.
I picked up my first weapon with a glow sight from the body of a dead raider behind one of Concord’s many, many boarded-up houses. I also found a cherry-red fusion cycle. She still looks beautiful. I wish I could get that kitten purring again. Unfortunately, like Rosa with the Corvega, doing so would be well outside of my skill range, even if the Red Rocket has all the necessary equipment.
The dog (I really need to name him), spotted a wall safe in the ruins of a drug store – the first safe I’d found I’m not practiced enough to get into. With the safe in this church, that makes two.
There was another dead body, also apparently a raider, in the street below the drug store’s missing second floor wall. That also makes two. I believe I am forming a fair image of what is causing all the noise.
If it wasn’t for the intermittent shooting, the streets would be terribly quiet. I was really hoping for a town that was a little closer to bustling.
With no better plan, I made my way towards the church. It had been so long since I’d been to a church service. But with the new baby, Nate and I agreed we should start attending. This place was the closest church to home, so once a week we spent a few hours here trying to get closer to God.
Pastor Henessy’s skeleton is still draped over the pulpit, resting atop a burned Bible. God has left the building. Heck, He probably left the planet.
When the wickedness of man grew so great, so pervasive, that God could only find one righteous man, He washed the world clean with a Great Flood. It is a modus operandi He repeated, writ small scale, with Sodom and Gomorrah. But this time, we grew wicked and then smote ourselves. And I am the sole survivor.
I should bury Pastor Henessy. But if I start that, I’ll never stop. This world is full of unburied skeletons.
The church was not the congregational center I was hoping for. The steeple offers a good vantage point, but I’m not sure that I like the theological perspective I’m getting.
There has been a lull in the shooting, but last time it sounded close.
The church isn’t the only structure to have not escaped our self-inflicted judgment day symbolism-free. A vertibird crashed into the roof of the Museum of Freedom. (The tail juts out over the alley between the museum and the church, and there is a crazy part of me that took the time to question if I could make that jump. Fortunately, intelligence and purpose and survival instinct all ganged up on that crazy and beat it to a pulp.)
Across the street is a hardware store. I won’t find people there, and I probably won’t find anything worth scavenging, but I lack a better plan and I might get lucky. Then, I just might see if there is a sane way to get up to that vertibird from inside the museum.
Day 6 - Afternoon
October 29, 2287Today is not a slow day.
I have just been through the most surreal firefight you can imagine. Racing through sections of the Museum of Freedom as the disembodied voices of the automated tour clicked on, broadcasting my movements, deepened the sense of unreality. A sense that started with picking up a laser musket and charging into a museum full of raiders, opening fire, and turning one of them to glowing red ash.
I reached the second floor with a slight detour through the basement. There was a terminal guarding the museum’s power system. “Texas” was one of the password options, but it wasn’t the correct one. Which only goes to prove whoever set that up was wrong. If Texas is an option, Texas is always the answer.
I took the power core. No more tours. And with that, I was able to take a more stealthy approach to the second floor. You learn a lot if you sneak up on your enemies and listen in. Apparently, this bunch has “other shit to do” and are waiting on reinforcements.
Well, were waiting. I have taken them all out. The one who told his buddy “Shut your mouth or we’ll never get the drop on this bitch” is now enjoying a new career as a glowing red ash pile. I felt rather good about that.
If that sounds bad, bear in mind that these thugs were trying to murder a group of survivors and the single Minuteman trying to protect them. Preston Garvey, who says he is the last of the Minutemen, entreated me to join the fight. The laser musket is from another Minuteman who had been killed just outside the museum doors. (Which, grimly, would make him the second to the last of the Minutemen.)
Well, I was thinking about a new career in law enforcement. So at least for now, I guess that title falls to me. I think I’ve been deputized.
My first instinct is that Preston is an honorable man who can be trusted. And after several years as an attorney, I liked to think I’m fairly good at these sorts of judgments. It’s helpful to be able to spot the liars.
I have no read at all on Mama Murphy.
She was the dog’s owner, although that’s not the way she puts it. She says he is a “free spirit” and claims he will stick with me now. I’m happy for the company. She sent him out to find help, and he found it.
She also claims to have some sort of mystic vision. She claims a lot of things. The sorts of things that could really mess me up if I started believing them. I can see the dog trusts her. That’s worth something.
According to Mama Murphy, his name is Dogmeat. That’s a shame. Such a good dog deserves a better name. Fierce, loyal, dependable… not to mention a fearless scrapper and a looting wizard… and she named him Dogmeat.
I was leaning towards Calamity. Don’t know why.
Mama Murphy also says there is something coming this way, drawn by the noise. Something angry.
I’m going to worry about whether or not that is true for now. Consider the rest of it later.
Oh, and apparently, those monsters back at Wicker are called “ghouls”. Fitting. I’ve been warned that there are a lot of them in the wasteland, most normal but some feral. Particularly around Lexington. Delightful. I wonder what Nate would have thought about them?
Sturges has a plan. One that requires the power core I picked up. I’m on my way up to that Vertibird. Like the one that crashed near Olivia Station, this bird had a suit of power armor on board. Only this suit is more intact. Also, the vertibird has a minigun.
Oh, if Nate could only see.
Day 6 - Evening
October 29, 2287
Shaun is alive!
At least, according to Mama Murphy and her “sight”, he is still alive. And considering how very, very right she was about the big, angry monster, I am willing to risk a little hope on her prophesy.
She also claims that I have a destiny. And has directed my towards Diamond City.
But for now, I’m on my way back to Sanctuary Hills. Another one of Mama Murphy’s prophecies – she promised the others that they would find Sanctuary not far from here, a place to settle and rebuild. Of course, the skeptic in me points out the only sight that prophecy would require is the ability to read a map. Not even a deathclaw can kill my skeptical side. No more, at least, than a fallout-ravaged church can kill my faith.
I’m providing escort for Preston and his survivors. I’m incredibly overburdened with all that I have stripped from the raiding party we put down; but with the power armor, I am having no trouble keeping pace with his slow-moving party. If there is trouble, I won’t be able to move with alacrity. But I have been over this road, and the only trouble I am expecting is a few molerats – there could easily be a few that were away from their den yesterday and are still in the area. Between the power armor, Dogmeat and Preston, I’m not worried.
New Perk: Armorer Rank 1
"The Wanderer" by SandwichDelta
All of my yes. static4.fjcdn.com/thumbnails/comments/Oh+my+god+_7b3b2f916e1042615ee4ee2632b2a208.png
1: I missed that detail when I did that. Now I know where Dogmeat came from, I guess?
2: Ach!
This is far funnier than it has any right to be.
Please keep posting these. They're fantastic.
Love how they just throw a Deathclaw at you right in the beginning. Top kek, Bethesda. Top kek.
Mama Murphy did mention Dogmeat by name in a line of dialogue when I tried to talk to her after first speaking to Preston, but that was all for me. Did you actually have another conversation or find another line of dialogue from her where she revealed that she was his former owner, or is that a thing you just invented or extrapolated for storytelling purposes?
3552224 This.
Not gonna happen. Or at least it seems unlikely. Like I said before I've started to look forward to reading these. I want to see what your decisions are and how they compare to mine. (As a bonus, the decisions of the person solely responsible for me getting into the Fallout series at all.)
Like your decision to use Red Rocket as a home base. Not unexpected, but I found it too quiet there. I preferred the familiar comforts of home in Sanctuary Hills, and decided to take it back from the wasteland.
41.media.tumblr.com/386e4c0de54ebffa5dfdf30c8314266f/tumblr_nxthsespFv1rxuvlro1_1280.jpg
And I'll get to see things I missed, like the Baker's cellar.
Also I gotta admit, some of the things said in this diary with me knowing what happens further in the story... I hope you enjoy the irony when you get there as much as I am now.
Reminds me of something I asked myself while playing Fallout 3: Why is it not a single car on the road has tires on it, yet the caves are absolutely filled with them?
I have been enjoying these. It is filling my fallout itch while I put off getting the game in favor of the goty that should be coming out during streams next back to school sale
All very interesting so far.
I can't wait to see how Angel reacts to some of the characters and factions as she meets them.
Who says this is boring?
This is wonderful and i CAN NOT WAIT TO READ MORE, but patients is a virtue so time is a must.
We see you soon K.
Oh I know why
KKat, as a fan I won't grow tired of this. You're presenting a spoiler filled adventure and I am loving every moment of it! Plus I am one of those wierdos that wishes you'd put out my FO:E so this is tiding me over.
These are excellent! A great read for a great game.
Well. You're pretty much writing Fallout 4: The Novel here
Silly Angel, we all now why 8'D hahahaha!
Awesome job on this Kkat, loved it!
This won't ever get tiring or boring I say, they will just keep getting better~
They're enjoyable! :D
Grow tired of these? You're being silly. I'll be reading these as long as you're willing to write them!
3552770
And it is truly awesome! I love the journal format.
I am not growing tired of these. I am waiting for each installment.
3552462
I guess the tires went to Boston.
Now see this, this I like. Cars, engines, motorcycles.
If only they could run with nitrous.
Agreed.
Beats me. Sounds like a good name though.
So, thought I'd mention this. While strolling through the southern Commonwealth, I happened across a certain toy factory. People have mentioned before that there were a few nods to the fandom on a computer terminal, so when I noticed how close I was, I couldn't resist popping over to see for myself. Lo and behold, Freaking named super mutant. I won't spoil the name, but if I can figure out these newfangled computer whatsits, I'll link the vid I took.
After much finagling...
I just got to the point where I regret joining the Brotherhood of Steel. Why do they make me kill all of my friends?