Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5543592-20190616163743/@comment-25828117-20190621220842

"Bingo, indeed." Doris said, reaffirming her victory in the search for the microchip.

With a couple of proud strides she made it across the room and towards the panel that had opened a crack. It was a square-ish wooden door that had merged seamlessly with the wall when it had been closed. About two meters tall and one and a half wide, it opened as smoothly as a bank vault door, in so far as some slight effort was needed but tightly wound springs in its hinges did most of the work.

The space behind the walk-in vault revealed only a wall mirror and lacquered mahogany shelves absolutely packed to the rafters with expensive spirits, and fancy glasses to match them. Doris had in fact found the director's bar, not some secret safe.

She groaned. She really thought she had found her prize there. Now, all Doris had was two hundred year aged bourbons and scotch, which would've been a consolidation perhaps if she could've still stomached alcohol, let alone labels this... ripe.

Beyond the bottles, in the mirror, she finally noticed what she looked like though and was horrified to see just how much grime had collected around her eye sockets. Where her goggles had protected, her skin was still peachy but her cheeks and lips were practically grey now. If there was one saving grace in this over-sized drinks cabinet it were the pristine unspoiled napkins at least. Doris quickly made use of them to scrub off the dirt that had accumulated on her face and whilst doing so clocked a peculiar sight behind her in the mirror.

Right on the other side of the room there was a safe built into the wall, clear as day. With only the slight off-color piece of wall surrounding it where at some point a painting must've hung. The painting in question lay 'canvas first' on the floor below the safe. Evidently the passing of time had simply made it fall off.

"Well, gee..." Doris rolled her eyes. If she hadn't gone towards the desk immediately she would've seen it instantly.

Embarrassing as it was; there was nobody around to see her suck at ransacking. Which was a good thing! As far as she was concerned.

Having become what she deemed adequately presentable once more, Doris walked across the room towards the safe. It was a small metal hatch with an electronic lock and a pin code was needed to access it.

"No power for the lights but the security system can survive two centuries of ruin and nuclear war. Of course..."

Doris shrugged and tried to use the universal code for these kinds of things. That code being: '12345'. She would've been amazed if it worked, but she had nothing better at the moment. Besides what was the worst that could happen. Usually you got like three tries with these things anyways.

''"Warning. The code you have entered is incorrect. Security has been notified, and is on their way. Have a pleasant day." ''

"Shit."

Before Doris could even do anything but momentarily regret her poor decisions in life, the shutters in front of the window overlooking the lobby automatically closed. The door to the office had a similar mechanism descend over the portal. Meanwhile, while all of this was going on, an alarm blared from the speakers in the corners of the office.

"Shit!"

Now that she was trapped like a rat she frantically ran around the room like one, looking for a way out. When suddenly, just like before, a part of the wall opened up. Only this time it revealed a protectron that had been sent up from the underground depot. It was more than likely that this system of hidden elevators serviced all parts of RobCo Development Laboratories.

"Intruder alert. You. Have been found. Guilty. Of. Trespassing. Due to. Protocol 75b. Which is to be enacted in case of. Total nuclear war. Lethal Force. To safeguard. RobCo Industries Assets. Has been authorized."

"Fuck!"

"Please. Do not be alarmed. You will feel. a slight. Burning sensation. Followed by death."

And the bot meant it. Doris could just barely avoid the laser beam the protectron fired at her. Outgunned and terrified for her life, the pre-war diva ducked under the director's desk as her only option for cover.

''Oh shit, what do I do now?! Come on, think Doris, think!''

Despite the slow plodding movements of the protectron, she did not have a lot of time.

With her hands shaking she pulled out the access card she had been given and held it up from underneath the desk.

"R-Robot! I'm authorized! I'm allowed to-ack!"

Before having even said her piece she could feel a sudden heat nearly burn her fingers. Once she brought her hand back down she was horrified by the sight of the smoldering piece of plastic remaining in her hand. A few more inches down and she would've lost her hand.

I need to get somewhere safe!

Safe... The drinks cabinet! Of course! Doris could hide in there. She was pretty sure protectrons couldn't open doors with those weird hands of theirs. At least, she damn well hoped they couldn't because she had frankly little choice! The woman barely poked her head out to measure the distance from the desk to the bar and concluded that the risk was far too great. Unless... She could distract the robot. Yes! Distraction!

And she found the most suitable thing. The photo frame she had tossed aside earlier lay by her feet. If it could zero in on a small access card it could definitely aim for this. Carefully she picked it up and winced when she felt the broken glass give her a slight nip across the palm of her hand. Still, it was precious little compared to being atomized to death.

With a throw befitting a woman who had never once participated in a day of sports her whole life, Doris flung the distraction across the room and bolted in the other direction. It worked! While the protectron utterly destroyed the photo of director Kent and his British friend, Doris ran into the bar and remained in unscathed.

But her luck quickly turned. Once inside she discovered that the door would not close with something or someone inside. Try as she may, there was no way the panel would shut.

"No! Not like this! Not like this, please!" She desperately pleaded with anyone or anything that would listen. Meanwhile the protectron had marched over and positioned itself right in front of the bar. There was nowhere to run.

"Laser capacity is at. one hundred. percent. Good. Bye."

Doris could hear the fusion cell batteries hum with energy and primed for death. Soon this would all be over. Finally over... She slumped down against the wall to await her fate when suddenly there was a zap and a flash of light.

Doris... Was not dead. In fact, she was perfectly fine. Not a scratch on her. The protectron however had a big gaping hole in its domed console and its blinking lights shut down one by one until only an inanimate hunk of metal remained standing, with smoke coming from the place where it got shot.

The woman was confused. Had the damn thing short circuited? Was it divine intervention? Her answer lay behind her. The mirror in the bar. The laser beam had reflected right off of it when Doris lowered herself in the nick of time.

Not only that but the safe across the room had a smoldering hole in it as well now.

"I guess those stupid Vault-Tec S.P.E.C.I.A.L. quizzes were right. 'Lucky 9' all the way, baby!" She chuckled to herself before promptly vomiting all over the floor. Sheer terror leaving her body through the nearest orifice it could find no doubt.

After that was over and done with, the shaken but more importantly, alive Doris Shelby, took her shivering legs back to the safe and opened the hatch or what remained of it anyway.

And there it was. The microchip. Kept safe for hundreds of years, just in case. Carefully, Doris picked it up so she could cradle it in her hands.

"Here it is..." She looked on with awe.

"...The one thing he must never find."

The woman produced a small red box which was perfectly suited to protect her latest find. Gingerly she placed the microchip inside before closing the lid just as carefully.

"Good thing the shaft that robot has come from is still open. I don't want to remain here a minute longer."