Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5543592-20190402224637/@comment-3293219-20190411002019

Seeing Vault 101 in this state was beyond strange… The dozens of tents, scattered up and down the hillside and bustling crowds, shouting and trading of wastelanders and even a few shacks, where people were able to live.

Hamilton wasn’t sure what had become of this place. Had Alphonse gone mad? Had he been replaced by someone who wasn’t insane? Or maybe he was killed and the Vault was ransacked by raiders, who eventually settled down there.

To his surprise, a lot of the trade was going on between the vault and wastes. The Vault had a lot to offer, such as water and food, that was almost endless in its supply. Wheras the wastes had weapons, armour and even people.

Hamilton could only just identify the new Rivet City-esque guard armour, that Vault 101 security now wore. Much better than that paper mache shit that they wore in his day. Sure, against makeshift weapons and small arms, they might be okay but they might as well be tissue paper against an assault rifle.

As always, there was a line but that was okay, he got to come up with a cover story as to why he was visiting the Vault as they seemingly only wanted selected people inside. Most of these people walked away as soon as the Security Officer saw them, most likely relaying messages.

As he got closer to the front, he could hear their conversations and immediately deduced that people were only granted entry if it was absolutely unavoidable. Shame these people were smarter than he remembered them being.

He approached the desk and saw a man with greying hair. Not Wolfe, thankfully or else he’d have to shoot his way out of here, after stamping his stupid fucking face into the floor. Even if he knew that he was dead, he expected Wolfe to be here somehow.

“Name son?”   The Guard asked, immediately getting a good look at Hamilton, probably making sure he wasn’t one of the jackasses, who tried getting in before.

“Wilkes Walker.” Hamilton said, folding his arms.

“’Kay… Occupation?” The Guard said, making a note of that.

“I fuck lobsters for money.”

“Serious answers only, please, Mr Walker or I’ll have to have you removed.”

“I don’t get how that’s any of your business but fine, I work security at Rivet City.”

“Okay…” The Guard murmured, jotting that down, he would probably seek verification for such a statement.

“What brings you to our doorstep, Mr Walker?”

Hamilton paused, considering his options. What would be most effective, without blowing his cover?

<p class="MsoNormal">“I was sent to deliver a message from Chief Harkness. Directly to Overseer Almodovar. It’s for his ears only.”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Her.” The Guard corrected him, getting the attention of one of the guards, who stepped up, a greying man, who seemed to be some sort of mother hen to the other security guards. As soon as his shadow cast over the younger guard’s desk, he fell silent.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Christ’s sake Wally, you don’t correct people, when they make obvious mistakes!” Officer Gomez sighed, giving Hamilton some sort of relief that they were keeping some sort of a ship running here. Hamilton instantly recognised him as such. He still looked very similar, though time had aged him quite a bit.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Sorry son but that one ain’t gonna fly with us. You aren’t even wearing the unif-“

<p class="MsoNormal">At that point, Officer Gomez froze. His mind made a few adjustments as he did a double take on the pipboy and the facial features of the boy before him.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Holy Jesus… You’re him! You’re Clarice’s boy!”

<p class="MsoNormal">Hamilton froze for a moment, honestly unsure as to whether or not this was a good development or not. His former self was banned before, surely, after fleeing into the wastes but that was before the lockdown of the Vault was lifted.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Thomas Hamilton, yeah.” The Slaver nodded, hoping this wasn’t a death sentence.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Jesus… I barely recognise you.” Officer Gomez said, eyeing this wastelander, who was formerly a boy, with a look of disbelief as if he was looking at a ghost.

<p class="MsoNormal">“You here to see your Mother?”

<p class="MsoNormal">“I… Y-Yes.” Hamilton ‘admitted.’ In truth, he wasn’t sure if the insipid bitch was still alive and if she was, he wouldn’t give a shit. Still, if it was a ticket into the Vault, then…

<p class="MsoNormal">“I was concerned that I was blacklisted after leaving the Vault before. Times may change but Politics are a constant, I’ve come to find.”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Fortunately, Alphonse isn’t in charge anymore and even if he was, he has lifted the lockdown… Did so over a decade ago now.”

<p class="MsoNormal">“May I see her?” Hamilton asked, hoping to seem sincere. It was hard as he hoped that the old punching bag would just die alone, in the dark, where she belonged.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Erm… S-Sure, yeah! I don’t see why not.” Gomez muttered, looking around.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Step over here and I’ll get you a pass. It’ll do for now…

<p class="MsoNormal">I’ll talk to the Overseer about getting you your residency back, if you like? We haven’t had anyone come back, since and we have no protocol on it. I think you could be the only surviving exile we have.”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Unfortunate but hardly surprising.” Hamilton agreed as he glanced around, moving in to where Gomez had suggested.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Alright, put this lanyard on. It’s the only thing dipshit wastelanders can’t easily replicate.” He said, passing a ropey necklace, with a card attached to it. Examining the card, it quickly became apparent that the card was designed to be a nightmare to replicate. It had such a complex pattern, like an old world passport, that it would take a true master of forgery to perfect it. <p class="MsoNormal" style="border:none;mso-border-bottom-alt:solid black .75pt; padding:0cm;mso-padding-alt:0cm 0cm 1.0pt 0cm">Not that he’d need to but it was something he kept in mind, in case he would potentially have to force his way back in, later. <p class="MsoNormal">Given what Vault 101 had become, it occurred to him that Amata might need to be taken out as well as her death would potentially knock the balance of this place and serve him an advantage.

<p class="MsoNormal">He barely recognised the hallways, once drab in their gunmetal grey, now proudly displaying children’s art and posters of motivation. If this was where he grew up, he probably wouldn’t have run away, all those years ago.

<p class="MsoNormal">Though, then again, had no one run away, there wouldn’t be need to reform to begin with.

<p class="MsoNormal">“I’ll take you down to her place. I should warn you though, she’s had Parkinson’s for a few years now… At least we think that’s what it is. Most likely some form of brain damage.” Gomez relayed, keeping an eye on Hamilton to ensure that he was taking this well. He seemed to not be remotely surprised.

<p class="MsoNormal">He wasn’t exactly sympathetic, she chose this, every time she let that prick back in, she was one step closer to it. Yet she deemed it worth it and who was he to judge?

<p class="MsoNormal">The layout of this place was burned into his mind. Afterall, you walk a route every day for a year and you never forget it. Despite the changes that it has undergone…

<p class="MsoNormal">His mother still had the same house, from what he could tell. Low level apartment, out of sight and out of mind.

<p class="MsoNormal">The lower level apartments were a depressing place to live. Especially when you grew up in them and had to stare at the same four things over and over, forever more. It looked as if Amata had stripped away with the regulations, allowing the walls to be painted and for people to actually look like they were living, instead of surviving.

<p class="MsoNormal">Gomez constantly did double takes on Hamilton, to make sure he wasn’t trying anything. Mostly out of obligation. It wasn’t like Hamilton judged him for it as it was pretty understandable that Hamilton would have changed. He just hoped that the Vault residents wouldn’t realise how much he’d changed…

<p class="MsoNormal">“Alright, she should be here.” Gomez informed him, opening up the way. Even though Hamilton’s weapons had been checked in at the door, he still felt suspicious eyes, constantly grilling him. Afterall, being out there for so long, he could’ve learned to make his bare hands a far more lethal weapon than any gun or knife.

<p class="MsoNormal">Not to mention, it was an old lady he was visiting, so he could easily beat her to death in a matter of seconds.

<p class="MsoNormal">Hamilton had no intentions of hurting her, however. Why would he? She earned her place here, in this chair, in this hopeless state of mind and he was more than willing to leave her down here, confused as she wallowed in the misery that she’d created. She’d die, alone, not even remembering her own name.

<p class="MsoNormal">“I’ll be right here.” Gomez said, standing by the door.

<p class="MsoNormal">“I have to check on you. Sorry, it’s just… procedure.”

<p class="MsoNormal">“I get it.” Hamilton said, stepping in.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Thank you, Gomez.”

<p class="MsoNormal">He kind of liked Gomez. Most people did. A man of principle, who used his authority to aid his community and not stroke his own ego.

<p class="MsoNormal">If Hamilton believed in a better world, he’d appreciate men like Gomez more. However, they simply don’t make sense to him. They seemed like mythical beings, undeterred by tragedy, pain or fear. He struggled to think of a situation in which men like Gomez wouldn’t get walked all over, by men like him.

<p class="MsoNormal">By now, Hamilton had been hit by a rather unpleasant scent. Every old person had their own odd scent or at least he’d observed. It was like they excreted it or something, to keep predators at bay or maybe even death itself.

<p class="MsoNormal">It smelled like three bleach products had an orgy in here and then squeezed out their deformed baby, in the middle of the floor. There was something about civilized scents that he found far more repulsive than that of rotting flesh or burning.

<p class="MsoNormal">Before him sat an elderly woman, hunched over in her chair. She was only in her sixties or something to that effect but she looked so much older. He could see, in the reflection, in the television set opposite, where she slouched.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Maeve?” She asked, looking around, somewhat startled.

<p class="MsoNormal">“S’at you Maeve?”

<p class="MsoNormal">Hamilton had no idea who the fuck that was.

<p class="MsoNormal">“No.” He said, firmly, stepping around to the front of her chair and looking down on her, getting a good look at the pathetic, gnarled remains of his mother.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Maeve?” She asked again as if something in her head reset and she was back to square one.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Do I look like a Maeve to you, you ignorant shit?”

<p class="MsoNormal">Hamilton paused, thinking on what he felt. Did it hurt him that she didn’t recognise him or that she wouldn’t be able to?

<p class="MsoNormal">Why does he care about any of that? He thought the bitch was dead an hour ago and was happy believing it.

<p class="MsoNormal">“I’m your son, Thomas.”

<p class="MsoNormal">She paused, eyes twitching as if a mechanism got to work, activated by the keyword of ‘Thomas.’

<p class="MsoNormal">“I had a son called Thomas once. He died though… Long ago.”

<p class="MsoNormal">Hamilton would correct her but she was right. The man she raised died, alone, in the dark. He never left that hellish Vault and if he had done, he wouldn’t have survived the week.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Well, you should’ve done a better job, raising him then.” Hamilton said, taking a seat on the couch and putting his feet up on her coffee table. She always fucking hated that.

<p class="MsoNormal">“He was such a quiet boy… Angry boy.”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Maybe he was sick of your shit?” Hamilton suggested, tempted to bash her head in with something and then just walk out of this shithole.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Maybe if you put more into your relationship with him, instead of Wolfe, he would’ve have killed himself to get away from you.”

<p class="MsoNormal">His mother went into another cycle of thought as she found the name ‘Wolfe’ to be triggering.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Wolfe?”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Yeah, your dickhead ex-husband.”

<p class="MsoNormal">“My Wolfe…” She sighed, with a happy reflection, now going back to her vacant expression.

<p class="MsoNormal">“I remember the first time I saw him, in his uniform. So smart and… handsome.”

<p class="MsoNormal">Hamilton paused, glancing down to the floor. How the fuck could she be this fucking ignorant of the fact that it was his fucking fault that she couldn’t even string a thought together? How could she the woman, who lived with his abuse think so fucking fondly of him?

<p class="MsoNormal">“You deserve this, y’know that? You were practically gagging for it, your whole fucking life. Too weak to protect yourself or your kid. Too fucking pathetic to stand up for or to a single fucking person, in this world and that’s why you’re where you are and that’s why your husband and son are better off dead.

<p class="MsoNormal">At least then your pathetic cowardice can’t hurt either of them anymore.”

<p class="MsoNormal">As he finished speaking, he noticed that someone in a Vault Suit was stood by the door, a much shorter vault resident. She must’ve been about twelve or maybe thirteen, she seemed rather put out that Old Lady Hamilton had a visitor and it was hardly something Hamilton could blame her for.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Sorry Maeve but Mrs Hamilton has a visitor now.” Gomez informed her, though this didn’t exactly get through to her, like it should.

<p class="MsoNormal">“But she always has her pills at this time. She needs them.” The girl said, sounding a lot more concerned than defiant.

<p class="MsoNormal">“It’s okay Gomez, it’s not like she’d be interrupting any conversation worth a damn.” Hamilton called out, not wanting to stop this kid from doing her job. Being a carer at her age, when she wasn’t even related to the bitch she was babysitting was kind of impressive and it would be nice to have someone who had any form of sense in the room.

<p class="MsoNormal">Clarice here had her sense beaten out of her, long ago. Assuming that she had any before that.

<p class="MsoNormal">Maeve was quick to enter and immediately made her way to the front of the elderly woman, moving around Clarice’s right to avoid being anywhere near Hamilton, in case he grabbed her and ate her.

<p class="MsoNormal">If that was her assumption, she wouldn’t be completely crazy for having it…

<p class="MsoNormal">He got a better look at her, in the light. Telling immediately that she as of Hispanic origin, due to the slight tint in her skin. She had rather long brown hair, that went half way down her back.

<p class="MsoNormal">He had a hunch that she was Amata’s kid. She looked the part, pretty but not obviously so. She was reasonably intelligent, had the same eye colour and everything.

<p class="MsoNormal">It was at that point, that she caught Hamilton’s studying of her and obviously was unnerved.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Erm… You’re staring.”

<p class="MsoNormal">Hamilton snapped out of it, leaning back.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Sorry, I erm… Something occurred to me.”

<p class="MsoNormal">This got a puzzled look from Maeve as she watched Old Lady Hamilton down her pills, opting her to leave her charge for a moment as she probed this matter.

<p class="MsoNormal">“What occurred to you?”

<p class="MsoNormal">Hamilton paused, kind of appreciating her willingness to talk to him as he was in need of stimulating conversation.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Who’s your mother?” He asked, figuring he’d get to the point.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Amata Almodovar?”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Erm…” She paused, wondering how this weird outsider would know that. Still, what harm would there be in him knowing?

<p class="MsoNormal">“Yes. My Mom’s the overseer. No, I don’t know what she does, whilst she’s at work and no, I can’t get her to find you a place to stay, if that’s where you’re going with this.”

<p class="MsoNormal">Hamilton found that relatable, a lot of people assume that being the boss means that you can make anything happen. Sometimes you just don’t want to, no matter how often your shitty kids whine at you about it.

<p class="MsoNormal">“It’s not… I live out there, I just came back to visit my…” He had to swallow, to make sure that he didn’t vomit half way through saying it.

<p class="MsoNormal">“My Mother.”

<p class="MsoNormal">This got a frown from Maeve, who instantly tried to see the resemblance, with a back and forth look.

<p class="MsoNormal">“How can she be your Mom? She’s been here her whole life.”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Yes and during that time, she had a son. A son she believes is dead, because if it’s not the bleeding obvious, she can’t comprehend it. I grew up here but I ditched it and ran off, into the wastes, years ago.”

<p class="MsoNormal">Maeve had a second to figure out if what he was saying could be true. She mentioned having a son at one point but… She never said more about it, when asked.

<p class="MsoNormal">Hell, had this weird wild man not said that, she would’ve gone her whole life, assuming that it was some sort of delusion that she had a kid to begin with.

<p class="MsoNormal">“What’s your name then?” She asked, finding herself still doubtful. Though they had been open to the outside for years, she was fully aware of what the outside had to offer. It wasn’t all bad and it got better every day but there were all kinds of monsters out there, the worst of them were the humans, who lost their humanity.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Tom… She’d know me as Thomas but I don’t really use that name anymore. Too formal.” Hamilton shrugged. Not that he minded being ‘Thomas’ but it was too many syllables in a firefight.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Yeah… I’ve never heard of you. “

<p class="MsoNormal">“Well, I am from that before time, when the Vault was shut off to the rest of the world. Back then, they did everything in their power to remove those who left the Vault from history. Deleted records, silenced relatives and friends…

<p class="MsoNormal">Basically, if people found out that what I did was an option, they would’ve ditched your grandpappy’s sinking ship, long ago.”

<p class="MsoNormal">Maeve obviously didn’t like hearing that. To her, her grandfather was not the man that people spoke of. He was so happy and gentle, attentive and encouraging. To imagine him as a power tripping, tyrant was just difficult for her to picture. She wasn’t so much in denial or even upset by the idea that people thought this of him, it was just more confusing than anything else.

<p class="MsoNormal">“He’s changed now.” She assured the Wastelander, dragging her foot up and down on the floor.

<p class="MsoNormal">“He hasn’t been like that as long as I’ve known him.”

<p class="MsoNormal">Hamilton was surprised to hear that the old fucker was still alive, still, cowards usually did find a way to survive.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Well, power corrupts and all of that.” Hamilton shrugged as he thought on it, sitting back on the sofa.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Well, it didn’t corrupt me but I can understand it changing others.” He said, knowing fully well that power didn’t change him a jot. He was this before he gained it and this after he lost it. Alphonse was a weak man, who could only be strong if he commanded strength.

<p class="MsoNormal">Sadly, he no longer did and thus, he had to re-adjust and remember his place.

<p class="MsoNormal">   “I believe you have work to do… I won’t keep you.” Hamilton finally said as he leant back against the sofa.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Oh…” Maeve said, seeming a bit put out.

<p class="MsoNormal">“I’m supposed to stay here, keep her company and her mind active. I can go, if you want but I’d rather stay and do my job… I’ve got nothing else to do.”

<p class="MsoNormal">Hamilton shrugged as if to say ‘why not.’ It wasn’t like he was getting much out of his mother anyway and maybe this idiot kid would spill the beans on what had been going on, while he was away.

<p class="MsoNormal">“I usually pass the first hour, with a game or something, ‘cause she’s not very talkative until her pills have kicked in.

<p class="MsoNormal">D’you know how to play chess?”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Yeah.” Hamilton thought on it, it had been a while, since he educated his comrades, back at Paradise about it. It took him a while to make it relatable to them. Explaining how Eulogy was the King piece, he was the Queen piece and so on.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Oh good!” Maeve sighed, seeming rather relieved.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Because I haven’t got a fucking clue.”