Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5543592-20191014001948/@comment-3293219-20191028194222

Pain... Broken bones, pooling organs, torn muscle, snapped tendons... It was hard to tell what wasn’t wrong right now, all that could be told was how much he wanted it to stop. Pain’s a message from the brain, one that had been well received hours ago and yet it persists. ‘Don’t move that, don’t touch that, hold that there, etc...’ Denis knew that things were fucked up, he couldn’t exactly do much about it and the red haze wasn’t exactly helping the situation. His body was an inferno, all that his brain could do was tell him such but had no solutions. There was no solution, no medical care, no bed to rest in, no way out... The Wanderer’s time was coming to an end, his only choice now was where his final resting place would be. Were he not in this powered suit, his resting place would be outside Megaton’s corroded gate, at the feet of Deputy Weld. Fortunately, the servos in his legs kept him upright, his suit kept pumping drugs into his system, doing everything that medical science could offer to keep him nulled but conscious. His only thoughts, at this point, were of home. He could make it to the Vault Door, maybe take a seat and not just keel over... that would be nice. Maybe get a moment to be alone, with his thoughts... He had no recollection of the journey, he remembered nothing back then and remembers less now. He blacked out at several intervals, seemingly walking in a zombified state. He did feel like an undead husk, broken, dead, kept upright through ungodly, unnatural means. Before he knew it, he was stood before the shattered door, that contained his home. A dark cave, full of desperate skeletons, condemned to death. At least he had the luxury of knowing it... As soon as he saw the shield-like door of the Vault, he felt his legs weaken. His instincts were starting to relax, telling him that he was there but he wasn’t close enough. He sometimes wondered if his being saw a possibility that he didn’t as the camera, above the door was focussed on him, adjusting its lens to get a clear picture of the intruder as the servos, around his legs, carried him towards it. He found himself collapsing a little to the left, directly in front of the eye of his home. With little more than the dusty particles, that he’d kicked up to keep him company as he knocked his helmet off, letting it roll down, along the ground. “D-Don’t worry...” Denis wheezed, giving the camera a light wave. “Just needed... Shelter...” At that point, he heard the camera adjust, prompting him to look up and see its eye, continuously staring down at him. “It’s alright...” He assured the unflinching eye. “The other guy... He fared worse...” Denis could feel something drip down his cheek, blood or sweat... it was hard to tell. Maybe a nice blend of both, like a Point Lookout Moonshine... Just lacking the battery acid. “I think... I think I fucked up...” He admitted, coughing up some fluid. “Th-Think I... I thought I was doing okay but... More people died... Got... Kicked out again. You know the drill.” He glanced up to the Camera, eyeing it through the haze of pain that afflicted his eyes. “I think you and your Dad were right...” He then found himself laughing a little at that, spitting up a bit of blood, that was caught up in his beard, the consequence of which was an overwhelming pain that engulfed his possibly collapsed lung. “Oww... Shit that... Saying that was the most... Painful thing I’ve done today.” He added, giving the camera a faint smirk. “Hey... Amata? C-Could you... Do me one last favour?” He asked, by now the mix of pain and drugs had blurred his eyes. “When I... Peg out here... C’Dyou get my Pipboy and... Well, do whatever with it. Just... Don’t want the data on it getting into the wrong hands... Lot of secrets on here, lot of people... could be hurt. No use to you but... You know.” He took a deep breath, through his webbed lungs, feeling his head slump off to the side. “There’d... Better be a microphone on that thing... Or I’m going to be... Pissed...” He could feel things locking up or maybe just going numb altogether, things shutting down or just... failing. He was losing his strength, rapidly in fact. Death had wrapped its arms around him, taking hold of his shoulders with its bony fingers, dragging him into the dark. He couldn’t help but find himself thankful that the pain had ceased completely... Denis’ eyes slowly pried themselves open, thankful that he had escaped that terrible fate. How much did he owe Abraham Lincoln? Why did he throw that many chips at a 3 and a 2? He should’ve taken George Washington’s advice and folded but he was hoping to win and throw it in that one term loser, Zachary Taylor’s face. He observed the drip, leaking into his veins, hanging by his head, swinging precariously off of its little rack. He’d never seen one of these things working properly before... even as a Doctor himself, it was rare that such a thing was needed. As he observed it, a blue form stepped past him, pulling the IV off of the stand and ripping the bag off. Even in this drug fuelled haze, Denis recognized the fiery red hair of his benefactor. “Freddy?” Freedy stiffened up, dropping the full IV bag on the floor. Thankfully it was still sealed, so nothing was wasted. “Jesus!” He gasped. “I knew... I knew you’d save me.” Denis wheezed, with a doped up grin. “You were... Always my hero.” “Hey that’s erm... Great.” Freddy murmured, not being the brightest of guys, he usually required folks to write things down for him. He probably needed this to be routine and Denis had just blown a hole in it, by waking up and talking to him. “It wasn’t me, who saved you, I mean.” The Red haired man assured him, quickly realising what he’d said and raising his hands. “Not that I wouldn’t, I was asleep at the time!” “It was probably Wally Mack... He always had a soft spot for me.” Denis murmured, lucid enough to laugh at that as the only way that he’d get Wally to go out for him was to shoot him in the head, to be sure that he wouldn’t come back. “No way man, Wally hates you. Hell, if he knew you were here, we’d have... well, let’s just say that it’s for the best, that you don’t leave this room, especially not during the day.” “Alright... You’d know best...” Denis murmured, staring off into the haze again. “I feel like I’m forgetting something...” “Whatever it is, it’s pr’olly for the best. You were almost dead, when we found you... Hell, you were at one point, I think but the Doc pulled you back.” “Dad’s the best, ain’t he?” Denis offered, stuck in some timeless state of non-linearity. “I should get Amata... She told me to, when you woke up.” By now, Denis wasn’t exactly listening, he was still trying to figure if this was the dream or if that Poker game was. Right now, he’d bet on the Poker Game being reality, since things made more sense there. Before he knew it, Amata was by his side, deep into a one sided conversation with him. “...Gomez was real supportive of us, even though he thought we were out of our minds. He got two officers to help us but aside from that, nobody else knows you’re here. So it’s vital that you stay put.” “Hmm? Oh yeah the... secret thing. I got it, I’m a quick draw Amata, you didn’t need to tell me.” “You asked!” “Did I?” Denis paused, he could’ve sworn that she just appeared, half way through a conversation. Amata just groaned at how dire this situation was, she took hold of his badly cut up hand, trying not to touch anything that was red from scabbing. “So yeah, you’ll be coughed to the bed, so you don’t wander off in the night. Any more questions?” Denis had a few but he was lucid enough to know not to ask them, since they’d probably make her angry. “No...” Amata nodded, loosening her grip on his hand, to the point that it was... kinder. “I’m glad you’re awake... Doc told me that it might not have been possible, not on our old principal of rationing medical supplies but since we’ve started trading with the outside? We should be able to replace them, fairly easily.” Amata pulled her hand away, getting back up to her feet and sighing heavily, she looked relieved. “We’ll check up on you, every hour. Just... Let us know if you need anything.” Denis nodded, though if she knew him at all, she’d know that he seldom let people know when he needed things... Self reliant... Though, then again, that was only since he’d left this place... Denis’ recovery was gradual, however, in the time that it took for his body to heal, his mind was still... fractured. Pregnant with despair, he found himself wasting hours, going over the situation again and again in his head. Could he have killed Hamilton sooner? Defended Megaton better? Maybe just... Stayed out of it. He needed to clear his head... He needed to clear Amata’s. He could tell that this was weighing her down and she needed some sort of reward... It took a bit of convincing but he opted to take her out to the scenic point, so that they could camp under the stars. They had the Vault C.A.M.P, collecting dust at the back of their storage space. From what Denis understood, it was issued by mistake as the Vault was intended to be isolated. Though knowing what Vault-Tec liked to do to folks, perhaps it was intentional. They had lay out, under the stars. At first at a distance, then up close... At first there was a wedge between them, then it moved... Such as it were. The distance between them lessened with each passing moment, as they remembered and compared and contrasted, hands intertwined and bodies touched. Clothing was removed, kisses exchanged, joyful gasps lightly projected upwards, towards the moon. It was an easily imagined affair, dime-a-dozen and unique at the same time. Like all that came before it and after... The only variable that mattered was the people involved... The Legend of the Wastes and his childhood friend. This was of keen interest to anyone reading the Overseer’s terminal, especially those with an interest in seeing both parties destroyed. Hamilton stepped away from the terminal as Officer Mack and his ilk came stomping through, clicks of guns sounded off as they took aim at DC’s Devil, who stared them down, with a cold glare. “Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing, freak!? Put your hands on your head!” “I will...” Hamilton began. “However, first I want you to know that your Overseer is a fraud.” Mack kept his gun locked on the outcast, with little hesitation to slither his finger around the trigger. He took several deep breaths as he did so. “Here...” He began, stepping back with his arms raised. “It’s open for you... Just on the right page.” Mack didn’t like this, that much was obvious, however, Hamilton knew that the man loathed Amata, Callaghan and anyone who dared throw their lot in with them. He was a difficult man to move, especially when he was angry. “Just take a look...” Mack took a glance at the terminal, by now he was already interested. A chance to look at the Overseer’s terminal without disciplinary action was tempting enough. The notion that something of value was on it was... irresistible. “Keep your sites on him. If he even scratches his nose, blow him away.” “Smart man... Now Read.” Scoffing, Officer Mack approached the terminal, scanning it with his eyes... Hamilton could only guess where he was up to. The conception of a degenerate, outcast bastard? It being covered up by Chief Gomez and the Overseer combined? The mountain of Vault medical supplies wasted to save one traitor? To anyone, it would look like Amata was abusing her power, to Mack? It looked like she was only serving herself, to hell with the consequences. “This... Did you do this?” He snapped, looking back to the intruder, letting out the spirit of hatred that seemingly festered, deep within his heart. “I couldn’t make this shit up, if I tried... I’d tell you to ask anyone involved but... I’d rather you didn’t. I’d rather we be smart about this.” “We? There isn’t a we! You’re a freak! If I were in charge, I’d have shot you in the head!” “Pretty big if there... But it doesn’t have to be.” The Wastelander assured him. “Think about it... If you bluster and threaten now? They’ll shut you up. You need time to spread this around... To leak it. To make sure everyone knows it but have no way of standing up against it. That’s when you appear, a former decorated security chief, stripped of his command by a group of nepotistic con artists. Get Amata taken down... Take her job or give it to someone else, get back what you lost.” “You want me in charge?” Mack said, cutting the frills off of Hamilton’s little speech there. “Why? “I’d rather deal with you, when I’m finished, than Amata or her Father. You’re a pragmatic man, not too dissimilar to myself. You dismiss me as a freak but if you went out into the wastes, all those years ago, instead of me... Well, I’m sure you wouldn’t fair much different to me.” “Who says that I’d deal with you? That I’d let you anywhere near this place?” “I don’t plan on coming back here, after I’m done out there. I’m not planning on anything, once I’m done, because I don’t know if I’ll survive it. I only know that you’ll make a better leader for this place, once the world outside changes...” Ten years ago? I thought I’d take DC, control it. I’d no longer want that, even if I could have it, because there’s something more valuable at stake, something ever lasting, that I can achieve. The balance of power is growing solid, like the West Coast, plagued with civilization. Yesterdays free man is tomorrow’s outlaw and though you cannot stop tomorrow from coming, you can change what it brings... Tomorrow can be the day after or the day after that... Keep the pendulum swinging, avoid complacency and progression to keep everyone on their toes. So long as this house burns around us, the man with the water determines who burns and who is merely uncomfortable. The only way to ensure equality, fairness and fluidity is for us all to burn together.