I’d like to discuss a few of your presidential decisions with you, Mr. Truman. >:c
Haha, relax ma’am! It’s just a joke.
Certainly isn’t any vaultie around California or the Dweller. Otherwise we would react differently
… ah. Well, yeah that doesn’t seem too friendly.
Honestly, it’s not that hard to check.
Wait, you mean to tell me that after all this time you’re not Harry Truman?
You got me, Mal. I am secretly Harry Truman.
I wonder if folks can come up with anything more creative than FISTO jokes for this? Let’s find out.
“And I would like to hear yours as well, but I think that kind of talk is best left for the closing evening hours near a camp fire; I imagine both our tales are long enough for it.” He fumbled inside his duster for his pip boy as he spoke. “As for hearing your story from someone else, can’t say I have; the raiders and mutants didn’t seem too keen on story time, and I haven’t tuned in on any of the radio stations yet.”
He took a second look at the girl’s left arm. “I see you’ve got a pip boy with ya, looks like the 3000 model; seems the similarities keep pouring in now that we’re not pointing guns at each other. I used to have one a lot like yours but I never really like it, it was too bulky, a bit ugly, and it always got in the way. It caught a stray bullet some time ago and it wasn’t really functional from there on out.”
“Heh, good point. I doubt they’d have spoken very highly of me, anyway.” The girl shrugged again at the thought of that strange situation.
“Wait, yours broke?” Her eyes widened a bit in surprise. “That’s odd, the A series is pretty damn durable. It must have been one hell of a shot to break one of these bastards. Mine’s broken my wrist more times than I can count, but it’s never even bugged out.”
The man thought for a bit, trying to remember what else he had encountered thus far. “I think I know the Talon mercs, those guys in the jet black combat armor; Ran into a group of them as they slaughtered a caravan, fucking scum.” He spits in the dirt, as if merely talking about them leaves him with a foul taste in his mouth.
“Oh right, me. Sorry about that, almost forgot what you said.” He chuckled a bit. “So you’re really a vault dweller? I was under the impression that all the vaults had opened at least a hundred years ago, now I’ve seen everything. My name’s Sergio, don’t think it’s my given name but it’s what I go by now; what I can remember will give you a somewhat long story at least.”
“From what I know, our Vault was the last to open. Wasn’t always closed all those years, but they only scouted every once in a while. A few people either got killed or stayed out here, so they closed it as soon as my dad and I showed up.” She shrugged.
“Sergio, huh? Well, it’s nice to meet you—granted our first impressions weren’t exactly positive. And I’d like to hear the story when you’re comfortable to tell it. I can tell mine, but you’re probably going to end up hearing it from someone else if you haven’t already.” The Vault girl seemed a little bit annoyed to say that. “Or have you not heard the local radio broadcast?”
“All at the same time huh? Now I’m really glad I took all this crap with me.” He cricked his neck and started to follow the girl, while holding his brush gun over his shoulder. “So other than Enclave, what are some of the other things we need to watch out for? I know there are a few super mutants and raiders about, they were the first to welcome me here.”
He stopped for a second. “Oh wait, if we’re traveling together we should at least know what to call each other, hm? What’s your name?”
Eve turned her head slightly as she began to explain. “Super Mutants and Raiders pretty much sum up a good bit here in DC. Near the northeast, there’s a big Deathclaw nest out of a pre-war town called Ole Olney. In the west, near Little Lamplight and the remains of Vault 86, you’ll find Yao Guai and a good bit of hostile robots. The robots, Feral Ghouls, and Radscorpions pop up almost everywhere, along with the Talon mercs that are left. And yes, the mercs are out for my blood too so we’ll be fighting them often.
All in all, it’s pretty tame compared to how it was a few years ago. Used to have gigantic Super Mutant Behemoths that would barely die from mini nukes and fire-breathing giant ants.”
After his next question, she looked a little surprised. “Oh! Sorry about that. I’m Eve, used to be a Vaultie before they kicked me out—long story. What about you?”