It's been "nice" weather in Maryland this whole week, which means no clouds, only one rainy day, which was Wednesday, I think. I don't play Elder Scrolls under such sunny conditions, but I do play me some Fallout. ☢

Which means no Joan of Arkay story yet, but I do have a Vicious. I want to thank Lopov for assisting me with the silly villains who took part in these last few stories; plenty of surprises, plenty of laughs.

@SubRosa Florens-- Yes indeed, Frenchman got his own Final Evildoer Movie Monologue Scene (FEMMS) just like Higherpants in your story. In fact, the guy who attacked Tan in her & Lucy's home was also supposed to have his own FEMMS scene, but Taneesha was able to kill him first. So there should have been some dialog there. I explained to Lopov that it had to be this way. Roleplay-wise, there's no way Taneesha would allow that half-invisible asshat to take control with dialog, not in her own home.

We didn't hit any bystanders, which was a miracle. But it did take a few shots to finally zap the guy.

In fact I did two gaming sessions with Frenchdude: one for pictures, and one for the story (and a few additional pictures). In the first "pictures" one, nobody else fought the Frenchman, which I thought was unrealistic, so I changed this.


@Acadian-=- I know, right?

Fallout dialog is different from Skyrim's. We can't just back out of FO dialog, and we have to manually click on whatever Goodbye dialog there is (unless the quest automatically Goodbye-s for us). But in a way this is good. I enjoyed writing up Frenchman as he did his BIG Evildoer FINAL Speech (BEFS). We all know where it was headed, right?

@Lopov-- No Lopov.

Chapter 48: Resolutions

Date: Wednesday, September 19, 2277, 8:31 AM

Location: Lucy West's House

Current Temperature: 65.0 °F (outside)


"Tan! Finally! Been lookin' all over for you!"

"Hey Lucy. Yeah, I been looking for you too."

Taneesha stood demurely in the upstairs bedroom area they shared, unsure what else to say to Lucy. The past few days had been a series of nerve-wracking, volatile moments: being attacked, being accused, going to bed only to toss and turn at the slightest unknown sound. She had not been sleeping well. With the death of the Frenchman two days ago the saga seemed to be over. Since then, nobody had come looking for her. Nobody came barging into the home she and Lucy shared, or into Megaton's community Women's Room.

And this was eerie, this sudden silence. Taneesha "Vicious Delicious" Jones had become somewhat of a paranoid wreck. Looking over her shoulders at night, walking extra quietly, as she listened for footfalls coming up from behind.

It was both good and bad that she now had a small stockpile of cigarette packs, looted from Frenchman, Andrew, and Mousey. She could calm her nerves with these for a bit, but also had to keep herself from constantly chain-smoking.

Another issue for her? Straddling the line between rambunctious raider and respectable resident.

She'd spent the previous day in the school with Bratty, where the pair of gals decorated their personal classroom with Christmas lights before spiking themselves with morphine. Sometime during the night, Taneesha then returned to Megaton. Again, she'd slept fitfully. Frenchman's notes indicated there were no more left in his Old Guys gang. Nobody left to come looking for that stupid pistol. But should Taneesha Jones trust a bunch of scrambled, half-coherent messages in Frenchdude's Pip Garçon?

"Hey did I hear right?" Lucy asked cheerfully, as she and Taneesha walked downstairs. "I heard some guy claiming he was from France confronted you in Moriarty's the other night!"

"Oh ... gosh. Um, well yeah...um..."

And it was right then, right there, that Taneesha Jones almost spilt it all; all her secrets, that is. Her upbringing with the Jehovah's Witnesses. The trip the Witnesses had taken when she was in her mid-teens, which ended in a bloodbath, with only Taneesha surviving (as far as she knew). Being then found and inducted by a group of raiders, because joining them was safer than being alone...

... especially the raiders. Taneesha felt that if she were to continue living here, then Lucy should know about her other life in the Wasteland. It was beginning to hurt, hiding such a big secret from somebody so generous, kind, and trusting.

This was the moment, right now. The words were there, on the tip of her tongue. Taneesha almost told her housemate everything. It would be better if she revealed this herself, before Lucy somehow discovered her roommate's secret life.

But by now Lucy was in the kitchen, not facing Taneesha. She was cooking up some gruel on the stove. "Hey, didja know they found a dead body under the ramp outside our door?" Lucy called.

"Oh gosh, hey, listen Lucy, um. I just want to tell you. Well, I need to tell you..."

"Yep, one of the bums who live in the Common House found it....found him, rather." Miss West was clanging a spoon against her tin pot, making all sorts of noise. "I mean, what is the world coming to that not even Megaton is safe from ... whatever happened to that poor fellow?!" she asked, exasperated. "According to Sheriff Simms, the guy was all blasted up, probably with a shot gun."

"Yeah, um... poor fella," Taneesha said, looking at the floor.

"Wonder how such a thing could happen right here in town? You know what I mean? This poor chap gets all shot up, and nobody in Megaton hears a thing."

Taneesha began fiddling with the hem on her shirt. "Yeah, I do know what you mean."

"Another thing," Lucy called. "This place smells of Abraxo. Looks like you did some cleaning up? Tan?"

"Um, yeah. I did. And about that Lucy, I can expl--"

"What a fantastic job!" Lucy quipped, pouring her sloppy breakfast into a bowl. "I mean, I really appreciate it, Tan! I've never seen these metal walls actually shine and sparkle before! Oh, you're such a great roommate! And I... I am one lucky lady to have you."





Lucy sat down and started her meal. She was happy. She was beaming! She had no idea that a half-invisible man wearing a dust hat had snuck into their home a couple nights ago, been killed after sustaining multiple shots from Taneesha's Blamhammer, and then been dragged out into the rain, where he'd apparently been found by one of Megaton's settlers.

"Um yeah, well as I was saying....um, about that cleaning..."

"You might want to be more careful though. I found a bit of blood up under the banister there," Lucy said, gazing up at her housemate with concern. "Did you hurt yourself, Tan?"

Taneesha nodded because it was true. She had hurt herself, but not without help. She'd been shot, after all, by an intruder who was half-invisible!

But she did not elaborate on this. Did not elaborate on getting stalked and attacked, did not get around to explaining her association with the raiders...

"Yeah, some *bunghole* with a president's wig burst into Moriarty's and attacked me, but it was nothing really. Probably just mistaken identity. And I did not take the man down on my own; there was several others helping me..."

"Damn, and I MISSED it!" Lucy West tapped the table softly three times. "The one night I decide to skip my evening drink at Moriarty's, there's a brawl up there..."

Again, Taneesha tried to think of a way to steer the conversation toward some more important issues on her mind. But the moment had passed. Maybe a more opportune time would come, and when that time came, she'd tell her housemate everything and all. But today was not the day.

"I have to go now!" And Miss West was out the door.





Later that day...
By now Taneesha knew where the next bearer bond was located. But since it was stacked right next to Doc Church's computer, and the doctor seemed to NEVER leave Megaton Clinic, it took a while (and about an hour of pretending to be sick) before Prowler Jones finally was able to slip inside Church's office unseen, hunker down, and make her attempt.

The doctor had hired a guard at some point, probably due to that time when she herself had stolen some meds from the clinic. Again and again, he'd peer in at her. "THAT is locked, and I can SEE you eyeing it," he'd say ominously, whenever she happened to gaze at Church's file cabinet.

Finally, both the guard and the doc were preoccupied with a new patient, and Prowler Jones safely made her move.

With nine out of the required ten bearer bonds now in her possession, she began brainstorming where the *duck* a tenth document could be found. Since Doc Church's clinic was a place she'd already searched in the past, she began revisiting some other homes and businesses she'd already been.

She broke into Billy Creel's house for instance, leading to an awkward confrontation, as both Billy and his daughter were right inside to catch her. Hours passed by before they left their house. Back inside, Miss Jones searched up and down, but came up with nothing. She also re-searched Moriarty's, the Brass Lantern, and the Water Processing Plant.

Finally, she returned to the Church of Atom. This was one of the first establishments she'd been to, weeks earlier. Desperate to get this stupid mission done and over with, she started by investigating the church's bedrooms. She moved on to its common areas, and finally, Confessor Cromwell's office. Nothing, nada, zip. All the while, Prowler Jones kept wondering if she'd actually scrutinized the church's pulpit itself.

It was like a beacon; really almost like some sort of brain-powered radar going on in Taneesha's head. The pulpit... The pulpit... Did you search the pulpit?....

She made her way into the church's cellar, where prayer and worship supposedly commenced. A couple parishioners were seated here. There was a bookshelf toward the back wall, with a couple burned and scorched books lying about. She'd already been here weeks ago; had been the one who'd scattered these books, yet nobody had bothered to clean them up!

Finally, she walked to the sermon area itself, where Cromwell's pulpit stood. Moved around it so she was now facing the two Megaton settlers who'd seated themselves here, perhaps wondering for some sort of inspirative moment involving atoms. The Prowler looked to them as if about to spill some doctrine. Looked down at the pulpit itself.




And there it was. Bearer bond number ten, right there before her.

"Finally!" she exulted. "Halleuyiah, the mission is finally done!"

Of course, she couldn't just grab the damn thing yet, not with a couple potential crime witnesses sitting a few feet away.

"Miss, have you any words of enlightenment you'd like to share with us?" one of Cromwell's flock asked the prowler. "Perhaps you've been struck, and have felt the magnificent rush of ions which dwells within us all? Please, share us with your inspiration!"

Miss Jones the Prowler smirked and smiled. "Oh, I'm feeling the rush alright, the magnificent rush of ions, that is. Looks like I'm going to feel it all the way back to Springvale School."

As she began to bull*ship* a few words of wisdom to the duo of disciples seated before her, she couldn't help herself as she reached under into the pulpit's cubbyhole, and grabbed for her immediate future.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Taneesha's Springvale Classroom (now with Xmas lights!)

Classroom color-enhanced by Chems (Better Living Through Chems mod)

"Damn, and I MISSED it!"

Prowling the Creels'

Sounds like Tan has found some peace and quiet at last, after all the craziness of the past few days. Just living that double-life of Raider / Settler has to be nerve-wracking.

You had me smiling as Lucy told the story about "that guy" they found dead from a shotgun. Wonder who could have done that?

Prowler Jones strikes again! Only one more bond to go. And there it is! That rush of ions is sweet indeed.

Aww, she let the moment to tell Lucy about her secrets slip away. Yes, it may take her awhile to settle down after being hunted nonstop recently.

And she scores bearer bond #9. You know, for medicinal purposes.

Then Reverand ‘Rush of Ions’ Taneesha shares wisdom with parishioners. A little shuffling of her ‘sermon notes’ and bond #10!

Lopov's been busy buying a real estate.

Looks like that the good gentlemen of Megaton stood up for Tan and together brought the Frenchman down - what a nice twist, and she didn't even need to use her Tazer. You're right, though - I wonder if they'd also help some man.

Awesome, she's got 10 bonds, now it's high time to bring them back to her boss. It sort of makes sense for at least one of them to be placed at the pulpit, right?

I chuckled at the dialogue between Tan and Lucy, when it came to Abraxo and the blood.

Absolutely, Florens. Our lives when we're at that age can be pretty chaotic even without a post-apocalyptic world, guns and bombs and monsters to navigate. So all the things she's involved with are starting to get to her.

January for instance, is also dealing with a lot of stuff, every single day, and on a much tougher scale than Taneesha/Vicious. But I imagine since Jan has some mystical blood in her genetics, she's able to handle everything she does without falling apart. She's also had plenty of training, necessitated by a rough school life.

The position my character's in is also a unique one. Perhaps in the past there have been raiders who've tried to play a part as outlaws and a part as respectable residents. With Vicious, she's able to play both parts where others have no doubt failed. Because I imagine in most cases, they see somebody from that tribe trying to enter their safe / respectable town, and the immediate response will be "NO, we've got enough in Megaton, and we definitely don't need any riff-raff." But Tan is good at presenting herself, so that she doesn't appear to be riffraff to them. Nor is she really riff-raff at all, not deep inside.


Acadian: yeah, my gal's not always good at expressing herself. That's really what it is. When it comes to mouthing off to those who are threatening her, or those who are bothering her (such as Cass A. Nova) there is no prob. The words are there.

But because of her upbringing (she never knew her parents, and was raised by a religious group who was not always good at raising children) she has some problems communicating the more delicate points of life.






Herr Lopov: Firstly, congrads on scoring a new place to live. Ow blast!

Secondly, actually she did use her Tazer on Frenchman, but it took like 4 blasts to finally hit the guy. Once Frenchie was down I'm not exactly sure who pwned le gars. 🍟 Could have been Taneesha, as she was pummeling the guy with her lead pipe. Could have been Cho, as he was swinging his bat. Could have been Moriarty or one of the Settlers, as both of them were using guns. 🔫

Funny thing about Bearer Bond #10 being in the pulpit is I KNOW we looked in there last year. Or...maybe we didn't. Maybe we assumed that "nah, such an obvious place to hide one of those. No way it'll be right there in Cromwell's pulpit."

Let's see what happens next.

Chapter 49: Uh oh, Not Again!

Date: Wednesday, September 19, 2277, 4:20 PM

Location: Megaton's Church of Atom

Current Temperature: 80.0 °F





"... and so, as I stand before you two today, and my ions particulate with the atoms and molecules which fall from the sky..."

"Your atoms and molecules fall from the sky?"

"Yes, mm hmm, sure they do."

"Well that's unusual. We've never heard that interpretation of Cromwell's doctrine before!"

Taneesha stood before the two Church of Atoms parishioners, attempting to spontaneously come up with some sort of sermon. This was an attempt to distract the pair while she grabbed for the final bearer bond she'd need to conclude Dogmaster's ridiculous raider mission.

"Now, pay attention ladies. This part is important. For the skies to open up, and the energy mass which pertains to the ... um... molecules and ions which dwell within the glow, is a very risky move..."

"What's she talking about?" one of the Atomites whispered to the other, who shrugged.

"...for the fallout from radiation which, uh, pertains to the masses of universes and realities involved gets delivered like so. Ow! Blast!"

Attracted by the sounds of sermon-delivery coming from the bottom floor, a third Atomite sauntered downstairs. The man smiled, and had a seat. Looked forward to some really good words of atomic vision from this ... newcomer?

The moment was now. Taneesha's fingers crept into the pulpit's mid-section cubbyhole, groped across the bearer bond's cover, and froze. Froze, because it was better to simply wait for a later time to make the final grab; the prowler knew this. She knew if she really wanted to, she could just hang up here for a while, delivering her bull*ship* words of solace to the three who'd come to witness. At least for an hour or so, or until all three of them had enough of her false ministrations, and wandered elsewhere.

Even though she could tell they were getting a little confused, a little restless, in the end did it really matter where words of revelation came from? Did it matter if she was making all of this up on the spot? ... Being raised in a religious setting, all the associated doctrine, the books, the words, the sermons, seemed to be nothing but interpretation, when it came right down to it. At least that was her experience.

It was like her childhood days, growing up in what was once known as the Ellicott City Temple of Jehovah. Back then, the directors who led her congregation sometimes changed. Ellicott City was not as dangerous an area as the Capital Wasteland, but still, the locale was just like any other in Twenty-Third century America. Witnesses occasionally got shot up. Witnesses were occasionally attacked by mutated bears or wandering radscorps, or other such random enemies. Witnesses sometimes suffered rad-counts which went off the scale, as their interpretation of the Bible was God did not want them eating any form of medicine. They'd refuse to eat Rad-Away! or seek radiation treatment, and eventually succumb to their fates.

Due to their draconian beliefs concerning meds and chems, it was rare to see anyone from Taneesha's childhood Kingdom Hall aged much over 40.

Because of this, the person leading her temple would occasionally be different. One director would pass away or become too sick, so another would take over. Each director had his or her own interpretations, which meant the sermons and beliefs Taneesha heard as a child frequently changed. Young Taneesha Jones would get confused by this, all these different words and interpretations and beliefs from different leaders would often contradict.

So, in the end, did it really matter what they said? Did it really matter what she said now?

"...and he said, come one and come all! Bathe in the glow of the atom...for Adam's glow, I mean Atom's glow..."

"Who is she, anyway?" one of the two ladies originally seated before the stand mused to herself. "Is she even allowed to be up there?"

"...maintains a mainstay of this ministry to..."

"Hey. You can't just take that!"

"STOP! ... THIEF!"

"Yeah! ARRGH.. YEAH!"

Taneesha Jones the Prowler. Trying to be deft, but now all she's got left, is to RUN!

-- Run, as all three Atomites got up to brandish their weapons. Yes, they were armed. Despite being in this so-called place of worship, all three of them were carrying. The old lady who'd openly doubted Taneesha's sermon brought out a metal pipe, the Hispanic woman who'd shrugged packs a large combat knife, and the man who'd joined Prowler Jones's sermon late quickly reached into his pocket and equipped a pair of brass knuckles. Due to the commotion, a fourth individual came bounding down the stairs, eager to stab the thief with his daggar.

But the prowler's too quick. She hopped, skipped, and danced around them all. Ran up the stairs, missed the door as she rushed by it, and then was forced to one side of the upstairs floor. When that side dead-ended she made a daring leap from upstairs down into the sermon area once again, while the four Atomites struggled to follow.

"Hail Mary and halleluiah!" Taneesha saluted, as she winged her way past all four of them. One of them managed to slice into the prowler's side. But by then Taneesha had grabbed successfully for the door, and was through in a flash.

Back outside, and "ah, *cluck*!​" she says.

...For the officer lady who'd arrested her last time was already moving from her usual post by the Brass Lantern, already jogging up the ramp. The prowler froze; Taneesha decided not to move. Where is Lucy? That's all she could think at the moment. Last thing she wants, last thing she needs, is to for Lucy to see what's about to go down...

"STOP! You have violated Megaton law!"

"Yeah, I know."

"You have committed a crime against Megaton, and for this you must pay. You have but three choices: pay some caps, go to jail, or resist my arrest," the officer said, adrenaline all jacked up. "I highly suggest you choose one of the first two options, IF you want to live."

Prowler Jones, now regarded as Hoodlum Jones, blinked. "You mean I can just pay some caps and be free? Well here, take this."

"Smart move. Assuming you have the caps, you can pay me now. Lesser minor crimes of pickpocketing, stealing, and trespassing will cost you 50 caps, but since this is your second offense, this will now cost a hundred. But you still have the other two choices just outlined: go to our fine jail, or choose to resist," she tempts.

Taneesha noticed the officer was already palming her nightstick in anticipation, as she gave that final option. So she reached into her purse, grabbed her collection of caps, and dumped all of them right there on the ramp, forcing the officer to bend and start counting.

"You call this one-hundred caps?" She shook her head. "I only count eighty-one."

"Well, whatever," Taneesha said quietly, trying her best not to attract attention. "I'm only nineteen short, then. I can pay the rest later, can't I?"

"Nice try. You've got but two choices now: go to jail, or try your fate at avoiding Megaton law. Which will it be?"










And so it was that for the second time in nearly a month, Taneesha found herself back in Megaton Jail, this time for three days instead of one. Back in the same cell, where the same Jailbot patrolled an endless triangle in front of her cell.



"You. Look. Starved ... pard'ner," Jailbot's metallic, prerecorded voice informed. "Need ... some ... grub? It is now... DIN-ner time. For all convicts. Of. Megaton. Jail."

"No, I ain't hungry. Just give me some damn smokes. Ain't you programmed to deliver cigarettes?"

"Smoking is... baaaaad. For you."

"Pfft, whatever. Give them to me you stupid hunk of junk. Maybe if you were human, instead of a bucket of nuts and bolts, you'd understand what it's like to have a nic-fit."

"Protect. And. Serve."

A small metal door opened on the front of Jailbot's fuselage (or whatever the mid-section of the robot's main body area is called). A pack of Luckies was pushed between two of the celldoor's bars, plopped right on the floor. Inside the pack there was just one cigarette. Just. One.

"Hey, what the hell man? There's only one smoke in here!"

But it was useless arguing with a hunk of clomping metal. As she resigned herself to the fact of incarceration once again, she stumbled back to the cell's 'bedroom' area.

Right next to its bed was an eleventh bearer bond.


----------------------------------------------------------------

Pissed-off Parishioners

Officer in Hot Pursuit

"You've got but two choices left..."

Oh no, not again

"Need. Some. Grub?"

Lopov'd

----------------------------------------

Notes: 1). That's really strange that a bearer bond showed up inside the jail cell. The jail and the bonds quest are from two different mods! Though I made both these mods, I have no idea how an object from Miss Vicious World.esp got into the cell of JailFallout3.esp. I looked into the jailcell in the GECK, and the bond is not there. These bonds are Quest Items too, meaning they cannot be dropped. Even as she sits in jail, and all her items have been taken away, all 10 bonds are still in Tan's possession. None of them can possibly get dropped. Strange.

2). It also amazes me the way we can abuse Karma in this game. After all the thefts she's committed so far: 19 locks picked (most of them Karma-related), 1 computer hacked (which was Confessor Cromwell's. This gained her negative Karma), 1 pocket picked, and numerous items stolen, her Pip Girl still shows Taneesha's got Good Karma. That can't be right. Must be one of the mod's I've got in her game which is not registering correctly.

Wow, those parishioners didn't buy Reverand Taneesha's ions - at all!

The hijinks and near escape that followed was worthy of the Weet Bandit himself!

But three days don't seem so bad - 'specially if the grub's good, pardner. And Robbie the Roboguard even issues Tan a smoke!

And another bond?!? Lucky Taneesha!

Oooh, his ions are particulate. I will have to remember that for the next time Avery is trying to impress a date...

Oh, yes, I remember now. Tan was trying to distract the Atomizers so she could lift the final bearer bond from the church pulpit. Has she thought of pointing her finger dramatically in the opposite and shouting "What's That!?!" to get them to turn their heads?

That does sound like the Witnesses. Methinks they are not going to thrive in the Wasteland...

Well, there she goes. She made a grab for the bond, and now the locals are going to be in hot pursuit. Given that this is a Bethesda game, the telepathic guards will be on her in seconds.

So rich people can just pay their way out of taking responsibility for committing a crime? So glad that only happens in video games, and not real life...

Oh no, Prowler Jones is now Jailbird Jones, again. And there is another bond in the jail cell! Perfect!

The whole karma thing is simply a matter of comparing numbers. If you do one really good thing, it more than cancels out a ton of little bad things. If you disarm the Megaton bomb, that nets you a ton of good Karma. A few locks picked and terminals hacked won't make a dent in that.

Poor Tan got caught just, when finally finding all BBs. But there must be some climax at the end of the hunt.

Maybe Jericho forgot the BB the last time he was in jail.

Nicely Lopoved but looking very pissed off. Looks like she doesn't really value the metallic company.

I think I know what happened here. It's because I setstaged the entire quest with Ian West (the vampires one) and Arefu. I had to do this for two reasons

1). I'm combining worlds between Cho and Vicious, and since Cho definitely completed Blood Ties, I want this to exist as completed in Vicious's game as well.

2). Completing the quest frees Lucy West from a litany of dialog greetings & options. Before setstaging, every time Tan would speak to her, there'd be "Have you heard anything about Ian?" which Taneesha can't possibly know about. So I used the console to change this. This way, I can just simply use Lucy for my own quests / dialog.

I think completing Blood Ties causes a huge packet of Good Karma though. Gotta be this. Vicious should at least be Neutral Karma by now, I'd imagine.

@Acadian the Paladin-- Aww, you mention the Weet Bandit. Had so much fun with that Redguard over the years.

That scene was fun to write. Only thing I regret is not taking a picture of Tan as she jumped off the second floor balcony, and landed right on top of the pulpit!

Three days isn't really too bad, even with a timescale of 10. On the other hand, my jail mod does things in real time, unlike Elder Scrolls jails. Sleeping on the bed only passes a few hours. Being incarcerated in my Fallout 3 means everything else gets put on hold for a while. As we'll see, Taneesha is able to make the best of this.


@SubRosa Florens : I know, right? What if we could just pay a fine and walk away, America would really suck then. On the other hand, this is what some of our richer folk can do. "Pay a fine" in that case equates to hiring lawyers. Cutting plea deals, bribing witnesses, and so on.

I think I figured out why her Karma won't drop (see the post above). My fault, really.


@Master Lopov--

Wow. This actually works in the story too. Jericho hasn't been seen in Megaton for a few days. Hmm, actually...

I wrote up a bunch of Taneesha text yesterday but then hit some button on my keyboard and the browser went backwards. Rrrgh I was so mad. I thought I'd lost all the text I'd written.

Thankfully, I was using email. I email myself back and forth as I write most stories (don't ask) because of this, I remembered Outlook's Drafts folder. Nice. There's all the text I wrote! It'll be a shortie, though. The story was supposed to be twice as long, but now I don't feel like writing.


Chapter 50: Back in the Slammer

Date: Friday, September 21, 2277, 7:23 AM





Three days...that's how long her sentence was for stealing that final bearer bond. Three whole days. That's seventy-two hours. Four-thousand and twenty minutes. 259,200 seconds. Taneesha had never been so good at mathematics (other than adding or subtracting caps, most Wastelanders had little use for math). But with all these minutes and seconds to kill, she certainly had time to figure how multiplication works.

...Clonk! swoo Clong! swoo...

"Hey, you. Jail Bot. Whatcha got to eat? C'mon dude, I'm hungry."

"Mooove. Along. Please."

"Yeah, but it's morning. Come on and feed me some Sugar Bombs, you walking garbage can!"

"Protect. And. Serve."

"Stupid *ducking* goddamn mother *clucker*..."

On the other hand, three days was not so bad. Three days of no distractions, and no demands. She'd be fed, she could sleep anytime she wanted. No pressure to come up with caps to live her everyday life, no reason to hustle. And if any monsters or fools somehow broke into this place, Jail Bot would try its best to protect her. And if Jail Bot got smashed to smithereens, she could hide in her cell. Nobody was getting past those bars, she'd already tried!

Taneesha could be with her own thoughts too, for all three of these days. Turns out, she had plenty to think about.

Such as, what to do about Bratty? The Brat, her supposed bestest friend in the whole world, was still solidly stuck in raider society, while Taneesha had begun to enjoy a less stressful, less dangerous, and more respectful life in Megaton.

(Well, other than getting attacked three times in a row by the three doofuses from the Old Guys gang..)

But back to Bratty. There was no way the Brat could survive in Megaton, nuh-uh. Firstly, there was no room for Bratty in Lucy West's home. And bringing her friend into Megaton would be a horrible idea, anyway. Wouldn't be long before she'd get caught stealing some chems ... or try using her assault rifle in town against someone who pissed her off ... or sl*tting it up to somebody whom she thought she could earn some quick caps from... nope, Bratty the brat had no place in that nearby community. So what to do?

After mulling over the situation, Taneesha came up with a solution which she thought might work. Thinking it through this way and that, she began to get excited about the future, in fact.

See? Being in jail wasn't so bad.

Next: how much was she getting paid for this mission? Slick Rick hinted there was a lot coming her way. No official number had been stated, but let's say if it was enough for her to afford her own place to live, could she then ditch the raiders? Could she and Bratty move to Rivet City (where both of them would be anonymous), find some sort of jobs, and then live the rest of their young lives as cute and young adults? Dressing in actual dresses and shoes instead of despicable armors made from scraps and ammo rounds?

Thinking thoughts about the raiders, her mind began to wander further. About how it all had happened a few years' back; her being inducted with them. And how her current lifestyle with Lucy West had come about. Safe, proper, respectable. That's how she'd describe her housemate.

Ruminating on these angles, Taneesha Jones began to gain some perspective, perspective she'd possibly never glean outside these walls.

Being a part-time raider meant being a part-time outlaw, and one of the things the outlaws of the Wasteland loved to jaw about was how things were in the past. Back then there'd been actual rules, and actual laws. Back then, stealing a pack of smokes could get you a sentence possibly longer than the one she was serving now, according to what she'd heard from other raiders. Back then, getting caught killing somebody meant being sent before something called 'a jury'. And if you didn't have enough money to pay for something called a 'lawyer', chances are you yourself could get sent to jail for the rest of your life, maybe even get killed by something called 'the State'!

-- And punishments varied. Out west they used firing squads, with only one gun out of several containing a real bullet. Here in what was the Maryland/Virginia area? Something called 'lethal injections' were administered. Some states even had electric chairs. Gas chambers. And that's if you actually lived long enough to see your final day.

"Yeesh," Taneesha shuddered.

From what she'd heard, going to jail before the Great War was no picnic, oh no. Those who were naturally tough, those who could fight or were part of a gang might be okay. But there were those who'd suffer beatings every day, or worse. These weaker types were now contained in a fish tank, with plenty of sharks and piranhas about.

Taneesha mused that she'd probably be okay if she were incarcerated in such a place, 200+ years in the past. Being with the raiders, she already was part of a gang after all, a very large gang, loosely-based over the entire Capital region.

Jail Bot clonked its triangular pattern outside her cell.

It was another hour or so (sixty minutes, or three-thousand six-hundred seconds) before she finally got her breakfast: a box of Sugar Bombs, a bottle of brahmin milk, and some Potato Crisps. Yum. Not exactly health food. But after giving up the opportunity to eat for that stupid ciggie pack the evening before, she was now famished.

11:34 AM, according to her Pip Girl 2500®, which the officers allowed her to keep for some reason. This meant just one day, eight hours, some odd minutes and seconds left to go.

To kill time, Taneesha turned her device's radio on, and began dancing in her cell. Eventually had a look at the wall where she'd written her raider name 'Vicious' about a month ago. She'd scratched her name onto one of the slammer's corrugated walls with a carpenter's nail, forgotten on the floor by whoever built this wretched place.

Apparently there'd been some other convicts who'd been sent to Megaton's jail by then, because her name had been joined by a couple others.



"Bodybagz, huh? Sounds like a raider name, for sure."

In another corner she found another name, one familiar to anyone who'd spent more than a day in Megaton...



... the bastard who she'd totally gotten into an argument with a couple weeks back. Thinking about the supposed former raider a bit, Taneesha grabbed the leftover nail. Began scratching a new word on the wall, so how it said...



"There, you deserve that, you bastard. Hope you see that when you get thrown back into this place."

Four more meals, dozens of hours of sleep, and finally Jail Bot said the words she'd been waiting for.

Not only did incarceration positively affect Tan's thoughts about the future, it also encouraged her writing abilities.

Taneesha is back in the slam, again. She and the Wheet Bandit will have to compare sentences some day to see who has done the most time.

I must confess to the irony of Taneesha pondering how Bratty is unsuitable for polite society from her prison cell is rather amusing. But she is right. While Taneesha can at least play along with the rules enough to fit in most times, Bratty would be in a gunfight before the first day was over.

I love the *!B0dyb4gz!​* name. Ph3R M3 N00bS!

Three days of introspection and solving the world’s problems for Taneesha.

So her plan is to get rich from Q-tip’s bond reward, move to Rivet City and turn Bratty into a respectable woman. What could possibly go wrong?

I’m glad Tan translated *!B0dyb4gz!* for me. I never would have figured it out.

Acadian: Yeah, B0dyB4gz!!!! I have a feeling she's going to meet whomever this is at some point. But yes, she's trying to put together some sort of plans for her future..

You have to realize how stark the Capital Wasteland compared to Cyrodiil or even Skyrim. In Fallout games, the world .... there's not as many safe places to go and dwell. No friendly inns, none of that. I'd say the Fallout world is more hostile overall. So between Megaton and Rivet City there's just nothing. Nowhere safe to stay. ☢ Well, there's Dukov's whore house, but she's not going back there.

I mean yeah, as a raider she can stay at raider camps. But she's thinking of elevating her status in the world.


SubRosa: Oh definitely Kahreem has done more time. A good amount of that Redguard's days (maybe a third of them) were spent in the clink.






Lopov: Yes, she's made the best of her time behind bars for sure. As I edit today's story (which I wrote most of last night) Taneesha's actually in jail, sitting there. Keeps getting up to check with Jail Bot if her sentence is done yet. It actually feels like she's confined for real!

Date: Sunday September 23, 9:02 AM

High Temp: 78 F
Low Temp: 61 F

"You have serrrrrved all your time. And. Are NOW. Free. To go."

"Damn right, Jail Bot. Open these bars."

"Please ... reMOVE your things. From. The. Evidence locker before you go."

The bot didn't need to tell her twice. From somewhere unseen there was a loud *click*, after which Taneesha could move the bars before her.

"Adios, Jail Bot. Hope we don't see each other again."

"Mooove. Along. Please."

She rushed over to the jail's Evidence Locker, eager to see if her possessions were still there. And yes, her pocketbook and the rucksack she'd been using to carry the stolen bearer bonds were present. There was also the sporty outfit Lucy had given her, five cigarettes, the Mentats Taneesha bought (in case she needed some insight to pick the next unpickable lock), a can of Pork 'n' Beans, a few shotgun rounds, and the 13 bobby pins Taneesha had in her hair at her time of arrest.

But there were also some items in there which were not hers: a shot glass, a set of sexy lingerie, and (oddest of all) a total of 116 caps. Taneesha counted these one by one before leaving the jail. She was sure she did not have this many bottle caps when she'd gotten in trouble a few days ago, which meant somebody had left the extra ones behind!

Best of all, the bonds were still in her rucksack. The officers hadn't considered them to be stolen, or maybe they figured those bunch of old documents were worthless, so they'd been included along with her other things.

Taneesha took the time to place her jail clothes in a metal box on the floor, then got herself dressed.





9:36 AM
And she was back outside!

Out here it was noticeably cooler because autumn, also known as 'fall' in America, had begun. Long ago this meant most leaves on the trees would change color. They'd go from green to red, yellow, gold, brown, and so on. Then they'd lose their leaves. Thing is, back then trees were everywhere.

Taneesha Jones had barely seen any trees during her 19 years so far, real ones, anyway.

As she started trudging back to society, Convict Jones kicked herself. "Drats." Summer? It was over. Being locked up for three days meant missing the change from dreadful and muggy to temperate and cooler.

Now that her sentence was done, she considered heading to Megaton first. She was not looking forward to going back; in fact she wondered if her days within the insular community were coming to an end. Or, did anyone who knew her actually notice, as she'd gotten arrested and marched outside Megaton's walls? Either way, whether she wanted to return or not, Megaton was where she'd left a lot of her things. Her stun gun, her Blamhammer, all those cool outfits given to her by Lucy West. All that stuff was in Taneesha's personal locker.

No, not Megaton. Megaton could wait. First thing she wanted to do instead was head back to Springvale Elementary. Time to get paid.

She walked roughly east away from the jail, up a slight hill and down it. Vault 101 to her left, Megaton to her right. She walked down a street where pretty ranch-style houses and split-levels once sported lush green lawns. Made a left and stepped some more until she arrived at her abandoned bus. Here she changed out of her clothes, so she could don her raider armor.

She walked into the bus as Taneesha Jones. And walked out as Miss Vicious Delicious.

Back inside the school and immediately she was greeted by her best friend.

"Yo, Vicious!" Bratty's eyes were wide. "Where da hell ya been all these days?"

"Ugh. Brat, you don't even want to know."

"So whatcha been up to? I mean, what the *duck*? You just go into Megaton like a *frackin* zillion years ago and just gonna leave me?"

"Later, Brat. We can talk about that later. Right now I gotta find Slick. Seriously, this is important. Where is that stupid junkie?"

"Well I wanna talk about it NOW!"

"Don't you raise your voice at me," Vicious said, keeping her own words calm. "Come on. We gotta find Slick. Come with me."

"WHY?"

"Because I said so, girl!"

It took a few twists and turns of the school's darkened hallways before the found him, lurking about with a booze bottle in his hand.

"Hey there, um..." he started.

"Vicious?"

"Yeah, right, I know, I know who you is," Slick slapped the side of his head. "Miss Vicious Delicious!"

"Mm hmm, that's who I am. What the are you on, Slick? Every time I see you, it's like your brain's higher than the last."

Vicious reached for her pocketbook looking for a cigarette, then stopped. It'd been three days since she'd had a smoke, maybe she could make it three more. Going cold turkey wasn't so bad, so far.

"So," Slick Rick began. "So where is you at, uh... with dem bearer bonds?"

Miss Vicious opened the rucksack. Dumped all eleven of them right on the desk. "There. Take them. It's done."

"Oooh wowee, lookee HERE!" Rick began dancing around like a kid in a candy store. "Damn, uh, Vicious. You did it, you did IT! ... And now because of you, WE is gonna be rich!!!"

"We are?"

"Yup, we are. I also got paid, too."

Slick slid the ancient documents into an open drawer of the desk, one by one. He then turned to the floor, where a large duffel bag had been placed. "This, uh, I mean that is yours."

Miss Vicious stared at the bag a moment, knowing already what it contained. Bratty, the eternal woman-child from Jersey, crowded beside her.

"What is it?" the brat asked.

"Go on, take it," answered Slick. "Been a while since we uh, since we uh, counted. But you got yourself a thousand caps in there."

"A THOUS--?"

"Yeah, well. Probably more than a thousand. Been doin' a good job, uh, hiding it, too. Hiding it from ... uh... these other *snitheads*."

Miss Vicious moved quickly, because there it was. Grabbed the duffel bag off the floor, which made a series of small clinky noises as she lifted it. The bag was heavy.

"So now that this is all over," she said, speaking to Slick Rick directly, "why, may I ask, did I need to collect those crapshod old books in the first place?"

*BKKSH!!!* went a small sound to her left; it was the sound of radio static. A ham radio had been set up on a second desk, to the far side of the room.






"Testing, testing, 1 2 3," a voice crackled from the ham. "You there, Slick? And Vicious?"

Slick Rick sauntered over to the radio, the biggest *skit * grin plastered across his face. High or not, this seemed to also be a moment he'd been waiting a long time for. He pressed a button on the radio's intercom. "Yeah, uh, we's here, Lieu. Vicious, too. Go on."

"Vicious, are you there?"

She pushed Slick to the side so she could press a button on the radio labeled Comm. "He said I was," she snapped.

"Yeah, that's what he said!" Bratty chided.

"Good." Whoever it was on the radio, he sounded unperturbed. "So... we haven't met yet, but you can call me Lieu. I am Dogmaster's top lieutenant. Heard a lot about you, Miss Vicious. Good to finally speak to you," he said. Even over the speaker, his voice exuded ... something. -- Admiration? -- A bit of deference? It was hard to tell for sure with all the background static going on. Something in the guy's voice though.

"The Dog cannot join us today," Lieu continued. "He's somewhere out on the Chesapeake in his plutonium-powered yacht. Probably headed up to Baltimore. Doing some dealings up there, you see? Because we need money here, too. Anyway, he wanted me to speak to you directly, so I'm here to congratulate you, Vicious. We really want to thank you for your cooperation on this. Over."

Vicious pressed the button. "Uh... you're welcome?"

There was a pause. "Hey, try to say 'over' when you're done speaking, okay? Just so I know when to cut back in, okay? Over."

"Whatever. Over."

"Yeah! She said whatev--"

"Bratty, shush!"

"And I also just heard your question. About the bonds. Pretty sure you're curious about what's going to happen with them. Over."

"Yeah... like.... why the hell did I just spend all that time getting those?" the raider asked, truly exasperated. "Y'all just paid me all these caps. This bag's heavy, man! But you gotta also know for those bonds to be valuable, something called 'the government' has to still exist, right? ... Because yah, I did some research, dude. These things ain't like Prewar money or caps. They had value 200 years ago because they was backed by the feds. Without no feds, these things aren't valuable for *crap *."      

She released the Comm button. Pressed it again.

"Uh. Over."

Released it.

There was the sound of scratching over the speaker, and for a moment she wasn't sure what was happening on the lieutenant's end. After another moment, it became obvious he was laughing.

"So, yes, they are currently valueless, this is true," Dog's lieutenant answered, from wherever it was he was speaking. "Now, try to stay open-minded for this next part, okay? Over."

"Okay. And...?"

"So, you've retrieved those bearer bonds from Megaton, eleven of them, right? And we've got a few guys down in the Virginia area also looking for more of these. We've got a few up in what was Delaware...and so on. Altogether, we've collected over three-hundred bearer bonds from various attics, various cellars, former shop storerooms, and so on.

"Again, try to keep an open mind," Lieu the lieutenant continued. "Because as you noted, these things are worthless without any government. Over."

"Mm hmm. That's what I'm saying," Vicious answered. "Over."

"Now. What if there were a government?" Lieu said. Even over the intercom, it was obvious there was a smile in the man's voice. "What if ... there were people who were trying to bring back some of the old ways? Politics? Legislation? All of that? ... Think about it. We've got this guy Eden proclaiming himself as president. But according to the old ways, he cannot do this without the people voting for him."

"What the--?" Miss Vicious asked without pressing the button. She turned to face Slick, who shrugged. "Is he saying what I think he's saying?"

"What if Dogmaster himself contends to ratify his own set of politics, and then makes it known that he'd like to go head-to-head against this so-called President Eden? Over."

"Dude, that's whack!" Vicious spoke. "Uh, no offense. I mean good luck if the Dog is really serious about this. But what's them bonds got to do with Dogmaster ... running for president?"

"I'll assume you finished that with 'over'," Lieu said from faraway, "so I can respond. Anyway, think about it. The Dogmaster runs for office, and while doing so, he uses those ancient bearer bonds as collateral, to be sold to the public, um... the peoples of the Capital Wasteland that is, who'll eventually vote for him. Those in favor can buy the bonds for a few caps each, let's say, forty caps apiece. We've got about three-hundred of these so far, so do the math. Three-hundred multiplied by forty. That's twelve-thousand caps, right there...

Vicious said nothing. Is this idiot serious?

"We use this money," he continued, "to rebuild America's treasury..."

"Damn," Vicious said without pressing Comm. "These guys are either really smart. Or really, really naïve, extremely dumb."

"...and those who invest can someday collect returns on their initial 40 cap investments, as more bond investors put money in. Which is basically what was once called a Ponzi scheme, but they don't have to know that, right? Over."

Miss Vicious said nothing. Just stood there blankly, unsure (for once) of what to say. Overall, she'd gotten her share though. A thousand caps, maybe more. Her part in this ridiculous scheme was done. As long as she was careful with her coin over the next crucial few days, as long as she and Bratty didn't blow it all on chems or whatever, Taneesha 'Miss Vicious' Jones now had some options. Options to maybe, I dunno, get the hell out of the Springvale / Megaton area once and for all.

"--you there, Miss Vicious?" Dogmaster's Lieutenant asked. "Over."

"Yeah I am, over."

"We'll definitely have more work for you in the future when you're ready, Miss Vicious. This is absolute and true. You are good at this sort of thing, and we can use your assistance when the time comes. So stay in touch with Slick, okay? Over. And out."

The radio went dead. As Vicious hauled her winnings back to her classroom, the raiders of Springvale whooped and hollered the nonsense they usually whooped and hollered about.

---------------------------------------------------------

"You have ... serrrrved. All your time..."

Fighting a Mole Rat

Walks into her bus as Taneesha...

... she leaves as Vicious

Bratty gets pissed

I love how you captured the weird vocal cadences of the protectrons.

Taneesha is back on the streets, with the final bond! She can finally wrap up this mission, quest, thing.

And she changes out of her secret identity and into her alter ego as... Miss Vicious! Dum dum dum! See, Miss VD is a superhero after all.

I am sure Lieu was exaggerating, but a plutonium-powered yacht does sound pretty dope.

Dogmaster is running for president? Well, at least a raider is an honest criminal, right?

Oh, even better, Dogmaster is reinventing Bitcoin, NFTs, a Ponzi scheme. Now that I can get behind.

From what I can gather, the world of Fallout is a harsh place. Among the few saving graces though is the absence of politics, legislation and government ponzi schemes. . . oh, wait.

Wow, Taneesha's rich! I'm glad she's already thinking about trying to make sure it doesn't get frittered away.

What a contrast between this story and her adventures from Megaton. Just like Miss Vicious Delicious or Taneesha Jones had two sides to her, so do your stories about her.

Wow, 1000 caps for 11 bonds - nice reward!

I was also perplexed as I read about what Dogmaster's plans are.

But boy, the guy's got his own plutonium yacht!

Hey, I was going to make today's story the final one of 2022, but (as usual) there were some problems with the final quest, which I hope to fix this week. So next week shall be the final episode of MVD-2022.



Ha ha, I figure when those things were programmed it was like the software engineers had all these soundbytes they could use, but nothing was consistent because they were made at a zillion different moments back in the 21st century. 🤖 The guy (or gal, if we're considering robobrains) records his/her voice, but says the recording in such a way that it's not consistent with other bytes.

And she changes out of her secret identity and into her alter ego as... Miss Vicious! Dum dum dum! See, Miss VD is a superhero after all.

Ha ha. Next season she will become even more super.


I am sure Lieu was exaggerating, but a plutonium-powered yacht does sound pretty dope.

I must admit I am partially inspired by all the gizmos (flying scooters, robots, etc.) in your own Stormcrow story. I just imagine whoever fuels Dog's yacht's gotta really know what they're doing. Imagine having a meltdown right on the Chesapeake Bay. ☢


Dogmaster is running for president? Well, at least a raider is an honest criminal, right?

Oh, even better, Dogmaster is reinventing Bitcoin, NFTs, a Ponzi scheme. Now that I can get behind.






The Capital Wasteland is many things. Definitely harsh, but also quite humorous. The entire Fallout series (from what I understand this includes the earliest two editions made before Beth bought the enterprise) is a huge satire on American culture. I'm hoping to capture some of this.

"MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!" -- I meant to have Lieu say that at some point, but forgot.


Wow, Taneesha's rich! I'm glad she's already thinking about trying to make sure it doesn't get frittered away.

It's all perspective, right? A thousand is not much by today's standards. But to the average Wastelander, who's maybe got a couple dozen in his/her pockets at best, that is quite a lot.




Wow, I never thought about it like this, but it's true. After months (in-game and in real-life) of spending time in Megaton, the entire plotline's about to shift.


Wow, 1000 caps for 11 bonds - nice reward!

That's actually wrong, too. If they're going to sell these things for 40 caps apiece, they've already blown their profit margin. 40 x 11 = 440, not a thousand!

But maybe they're paying Vicious better than all the other scouts they've got out there. This seems to be the case, considering Dog is going to want to .... well.. don't wanna spoil what'll happen. Suffice it to say, I believe they're paying the others who are finding these things a lot less than they're paying Miss Vicious.


Unfortunately I can't simulate this yacht in-story (unless Point Lookout has an example you can cite). Hmm...

Chapter 52: Wasted Wastoids

Date: Sunday, September 23, 5:32 PM


"One-thousand and five-hundred, twenty-two..." *clink* "One-thousand and five-hundred, twenty-three..." *clink!* "There, that's all the caps. One-thousand and five-hundred, twenty-four in all. Now how about that, Miss Bratty?"

Bratty was (for once) speechless. At least for the moment. Savor that moment dear readers, as it's not a common one.

The Brat and Vicious were sitting in Miss Vicious's classroom​. Just finished counting all the payment she'd earned from Slick Rick a couple hours before. Small piles of bottle caps littered in little piles, all across the floor. Before their count, Vicious had implemented an incredibly smart idea, which was to barricade the classroom's door with a couple desks. This was to ensure that none of Springvale's dope-fiend raiders would burst inside. If any of them discovered what was going on, hundreds of caps all over the place, would they be able to resist grabbing handfuls on the spot?

"You ain't got nothing to say, huh?"

"Let's have a party!" the Brat announced after a moment. "Yeah, let's get some chems, Vicious! Come on, we can find the--"

"Hey, whoa, whoa, Brat, stop that line of thought right there. Exactly what we need not to do. We ain't getting high, at least not now. We gotta be smart about this, okay? ... You know, because it's quite possible if we blow some of this now, next thing we know it'll be days-gone-by, we'll be poor again. Back where we was. Might be a few days before that happens; a thousand five-hundred twenty-four caps is quite a lot. But you'd be surprised how fast money can go, once you start paying attention."

She looked across the floor at her winnings. Caps which had once been stamped atop thousands of glass bottles. Removed by fellows and kids and babes all across the Capital Wasteland, so their contents could be consumed. Circulated as mock-coin (because this was the best Americans could do in the year 2277 for currency).

Vicious waited for the Brat to protest. Actually gave her the opportunity to do so. But Bratty stayed quiet, so Vicious continued.

"Let's just say we gotta stay smart about this, okay?"

"Okay," Bratty agreed. "But I wanna go into Megaton, Vicious. C'mon, when are moving there? Gettin' sick of living in this dumb old school."

"Ummmm yeah... about that, Brat..."

"Noooo! BUT YOU SAID we could go!!!"

Vicious sighed. Knowing her friend well by now after several weeks, this part might be tougher than she thought. "So listen, Brat. Turns out, I can't get you into Megaton."

"BUT!!!!"

"Listen," the darker raider felt the urge to grab for a smoke. Fought that urge. "It's the woman's place I've been living at when I am in town. Turns out, there's only two beds in there, and there'd really be no room for you to stay, and..."

"So? What's the problem with that?" Bratty started, pulling at one of her pig-tails. "Maybe we go in her house one day and make her move out."

"No, Brat, that won't work. That ain't how proper society, which is how Megaton operates, that ain't how it works at all."

"Heck, maybe we can kill her! What's this *witch's* name, anyway? *Duck* yeah, I got a bright idea, Vicious!"

"Bratty--"

"How about we go into town, you stun the *runt * with your stun gun--"

"Bratty?--"

"... and I beat the *wit* out of her with my club unti she's dea--"

"BRATTY, NO! STOP IT! No one's gonna stun my housemate, no one's gonna beat her, and certainly no one's gonna kill her. STOP this nonsense bull*scheisse* thinking, god*darnit*. Stop it NOW!"

The Brat really got angry at this, of course. Got up and stomped around the room, her cheeks blushing like mad. But she did not make any sort of retort. Maybe because more and more often, she'd been falling into the habit of considering her friend as some sort of life-counselor/guidance-mentor. Or something. Vicious had saved her from a life of whorehouse tawdriness, after all. May have saved her very life.

"Hey, sorry I yelled. Sorry about that Bratty, okay? It's just that sometimes, to get something through your thick skull--"

"HEY, I got a BETTER idea!" the Brat was jumping up and down, making her dirty pink Prewar dress swish and swash. Quite a sight to see; something Miss Vicious might find amusing, if she weren't in the middle of trying to convince her friend from committing malicious activities. "We can get Q-Tip to do it! Yeah, Q-tip'll be down!"

"Oh my gosh, really? Lawd, help me now."

It took another half-hour or so before Miss Vicious was able to begin to explain what had happened. Going into Megaton could not possibly happen now, especially after Vicious laid out what she'd just gone through, over the past week. Since the Brat did not understand what exactly it meant to 1). be arrested 2). get apprehended, and 3). get thrown in jail, her 'mentor' patiently took the time to tell her what had happened. After she was done, it still did not seem her friend entirely got it.

By now, of course, Vicious was also completely exhausted. She loved her friend Miss Bratty, but sometimes it took a lot of energy to keep up with her.

"Let's get these caps back into the duffel bag." There was a crawlspace behind one of the classroom's walls, with a large hole probably chewed out at some point by molerats. Vicious stuffed the loot in there, and then moved a desk in front of it.

"Alright, I guess it's time for a treat," she said, which caused her friend to dance around again, squealing like an irradiated pig. "Let's go find the dude."

Springvale Elementary had its very own chem-supply dealer, an older man who lived in the school full time. This dealer was always well-stocked with whatever latest shipment of stimulants, depressants, hallucinogens, boozes, but also beneficial chems (Stimpaks, Buffout, Mentats, etc.) were going around lately. The dealer would get these chems through a network of suppliers which led all the way up to the Dogmaster and his cohorts, themselves.

Trick was, finding "the dude" could be take a while. Springvale had electricity, it even had air-conditioning in some rooms. But most of its hallways were still dark. Vicious had cleaned her classroom properly several weeks ago, but the rest of the school was still a disaster of rubble and trash. Which was how the raiders liked it, of course.

"What's up?" a raider with Mohawk hair asked, which came out more like a demand.

"Jack, and *ship*!"

"You tell 'im, Brat."

When they finally found the man, Vicious made an exchange of 106 caps to purchase some tranquil-pills and three beers. Now they could get their party on.

"Just this once, okay?" she said to Bratty, while really trying to convince herself. "After tonight, we gotta talk about this new set of plans I got, okay?"

"Yah, sure Vicious. Whatever you say."

"Because yeah, we're not moving into Megaton, but we sure as *ship* ain't stayin' in this school, neither."

"Sure girl, whatever!"

The two raider chicks rushed hurriedly back to Vicious's classroom. Opened their beers and downed their capsules. These were pills which had been manufactured way back when, then'd sat around in warehouses while the Great War eliminated most of society.




"Daaaamn Misssh Vicssshious, thish is goood *knit!​ *" Bratty the Brat slurred.

"Mmmm," Vicious agreed. "Gotta be careful, though..." she said to her friend as the drug took effect, and both of them lay swimmingly down on the floor, where a set of bedrolls lay. "Gotta ... keep ... our heads ... right ... about ... this..." she muttered, drifting off.

Raiders whooped and hollered somewhere outside. Vicious's Pip Girl® radio blared some dope beats from centuries past: En Vogue, Donna Summer, Eminem. The classroom's Christmas lights blurred into a kaleidoscope of color as they drowned in delirium.

This would be the last time Miss Vicious would see the inside of Springvale Elementary School before it all went wrong.

----------------------------------

"Let's waste the *witch*!..."

"BRATTY! NO!!!"

Springvale Chem Dealer

Dissociated Wastoids

Haha, Bratty may not be very bright but she’s clearly got her own vicious streak as she plots how to take out Lucy. She's definitely borderline psychostupidic. Settle down, girl! Taneesha’s got her hands full with you.

Two doped-out young ladies in a classroom full of caps in a building full of raiders. What could possibly go wrong here?

Bratty is speechless? Now that is something worth celebrating!

What, don't blow all the caps on blow? Is Tanesha turning into a square? Narc! Seriously though, it seems Tan is becoming responsible. Hiding that loot from other raiders is definitely a good start.

And Bratty's got a great plan to walk into Megaton and just go full raider. Oh boy. I don't think she can acclimate to ever being an indoor kitty.

Uh oh, Miss V is partying down, not knowing the terror that awaits!

I had a feeling while reading this story, that it's a prequel to something disastrous. Can't say to what but I had a hunch from the start.

I wonder if Bratty's mood-shifting behavior might be due to the extreme drug usage in the past.

I love the last pic. Wastedly beautiful!

Okay folks, here it is: Miss Vicious Delicious FINAL CHAPTER of 2022!!! 🎂 🍷

I want to thank everyone who's read and commented and helped along, some of the people I work with, and also some customers, who inspired various characters who show up in the story (Cass A. Nova was inspired by this kid who was hitting on a co-worker for instance). And of course, my co-producer Lopov, who went way beyond what was required for the Bearer Bonds part of the quest. 👨‍🎓 Really appreciate it all.

Chances are there will be a Season 4 as well, and hopefully that'll be the final one. Funny thing is I already know what's going to happen, and I've known since the first summer I began writing her tale. One chapter at a time, of course.

Now, let's see what happens next.

---------------------------------------

Chapter 53: The Siege of Springvale

Monday, September 24, 2277, 12:39 AM


...Consciousness, swimming in and out...

... A kaleidoscope of colors, swirling above...

...Miss Taneesha "Vicious" Jones, clamoring out of her latest tryst with chemical experimentation...


She found herself lying on one of the bedrolls located in her raider-given classroom, dizzy and out of it. She moved her head to one side. Had a look across the room, which was seen through her eyes from vertical perspective. Saw no one. Turned her head the other way, now she was looking toward the nearest wall. There was another bedroll here, but nobody laid upon it.

Where is Bratty?

Vicious tried to get up. Alarmingly, she found she could barely move. As if she'd been partially paralyzed.

Or am I even still alive?

After taking a few deep breaths she felt the soreness in her lungs which being a smoker often causes. This made her cough, which somehow kick-started her nervous system, breaking its partial paralysis.

Okay, yes I am still alive. Because this *skit* is too real.

Her dizziness subsided eventually, so that now she could safely try to sit up without a headrush causing her to faceplant.

What was that? Some sort of sounds. Gunfire, and yelling.

Yes that was gunfire, coming from somewhere else in the school. --- ... rat-a-tat-a-ratta-tat... -- Shouting, too. Had yet another innocent Wastelander found himself wandering into school, unaware the place was packed with rambunctious raiders, and his life was about to come to a swift end?

No, this seemed not to be the case. Vicious focused, straining to hear what was going on.

The cadence of some of the gunfire was unusual. Several guns were fired, but there was one which did not sound like a typical raider armament. Vicious listened hard. Whoever the invader was, he was using an assault rifle. But even from hundreds of feet away, she could tell his weapon sounded as though it were well-made, and well-cared for.

Also, there were the sounds of the raiders themselves. When raiders attacked someone, they tended to all join into the fight at once, calling to each other like a pack of radwolves, swarming their prey. They'd fire their mutt-pieces, swing their pool cues and their sledgehammers in an unruly fashion. More like a barely-coordinated pack of animals than a gang of wannabe bad guys.

But this gun's shooter was different. He or she was disciplined. Conserving ammo. And whoever he or she was seemed to be the only one firing last. Even in her current zoned-out state, Vicious could tell the difference. There would be a quick patter of rounds being fired, literal bursts of noise instead of constant spraying. Several minutes would pass between each set of combats, as though the opponent were moving slowly through the school.

Even from her downed perspective she knew the gunner was going at this alone. By himself. Not herself. Himself. And alone. Taking siege of the entire pantheon of raiders, one by one. Because that's how this guy preferred to cause an offensive.

He'd wandered in alone, and by himself.

"No!!" Vicious scream-whispered, feeling some actual terror. Can it be him?!

...Rat-a-tat-tat!.... Pop POP!!!!...

She tried to get fully on her feet so she could run across the room where her locker was. Immediately faltered at this, nearly fell on her face. Still drugged. Not that it mattered much; both her guns were in Megaton.

"Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!" a raider cackled before blasting his shotgun. "It's killin' time!" -- But again, there was that ONE shot from his shotgun followed by a half-dozen or so by the rifle.

Two raiders ran into Vicious's classroom in a panic, crouched down/hands on heads. --It took some moments for Vicious to realize they were Slick Rick and the chem dealer she'd bought those power-pills from. Right away they hit some obstacles. Since she'd arranged the room's desks and chairs in an orderly manner (rather than the mess it was before) both of them ran shin-first into some desks!

"What are ya, scared?" a nearby raider taunted out in the hallway, before being definitely silenced.

A third raider ran into the classroom, the same guy who Vicious had rescued from being eaten alive by mutants up in Germantown Police Department. Slick Rick, the chem dealer, and the dude who was the nearly super mutant-snack. All three fellows hiding in her room, apparently oblivious to her presence. Then again, they wouldn't be able to see her immediately, since she was back to lying on the floor.

"It's go time!" Slick Rick called nervously, arming himself with a 10 mil.

The shooter was now just outside the classroom door. He fired straight at them: rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat... six measured shots. Vicious noticed that for all the taunts and threats and shouts the raiders made, Springvale's invader remained silent.

"You like that, huh? You like that?" Vicious's raider boss called, before his shoulder exploded.

"Please!" mutant-dinner called. "I'm sorry!! ARUGH!!! ... I was just playin' I swear!" He ran out into the hallway, straight into a hail of rounds. The man who'd sold Miss Vicious some ancient phenothiazine soon followed.

"Don't *duckin'* hide from me!" somebody called.

There was one final shot. And then there was silence. Vicious lay in a fetal position on the floor. Wanted to get up, but the harder she tried, the more she realized she was still nearly incapacitated by the drug. Meanwhile, it seemed the invader of Springvale had moved on. Hadn't come into her room. Maybe he saw the way her room's furniture was arranged, made a few calculated guesses, and didn't want to bother banging into any of it. Assumed nobody was inside.

More measured shots. Bangs and shouts, from far away. And then ... nothing. No sounds at all. Vicious listened hard. Nobody out there.

After another several minutes of lying still, she tried again to stand, and was able to do so, very tentatively. She spent a few seconds looking around. Slick Rick lay halfway upon one of the classroom's desks, staring up at the ceiling. Just outside the door were the convict fellow and her former chem dealer, both upended. She moved slowly out into the hallway and saw several bodies, former *bunghole* goofballs who she'd seen around the school, but never bothered to catch their names (because they'd given her a hard time instead of treating her nice).

Everywhere she looked, there were corpses.

"No..."

Vicious's eyes welled with tears, she was sobbing. It had all happened so fast! Because the raiders of Springvale Elementary were around her, but all of them had fallen. Some were friends, some were fiends, some were frenemies.

Though an attack such as this was something she'd long-ago realized could happen at any time (everyone knew raiders were hunted by certain factions of the Wasteland) it was something she did not think she'd truly ever witness. Sure, the camp she'd stayed at a couple years ago up near Evergreen Mills had gotten assailed a couple times, but always it was the raiders who'd triumphed. Some had fallen, but plenty others had remained, while whoever attacked got ran off.

"Hey, don't I know you from somewhere?"

The voice startled her. Vicious had wandered roughly a hundred feet outside of her room by the time she heard it. Her head was still woozy, her throat parched. She'd been just about to get a drink from the fountain.

"Yeaaah, you're the one's been living in Megaton with Lucy West!" Cho Zen Wan, the Lone Wanderer, said. "Well, what the hell are you doing here?"

"Well, I ... uh..." If only I had my stunner.

"Don't tell me you're one of them?"

"You're that Lone Wanderer fellow," Vicious said, pointing shyly.

"Taneesha, right?" Cho asked. "Taneesha Jones?" Cho was putting his gun aside. "All this time you've been living a double life, Taneesha Jones. What's up with that?"

To this, Vicious had no answer.

"Well, look. I'm not gonna kill you. My mission in the Wasteland is to purge the world of raiders because they are mostly scum, no offense. Raiders do horrific things to the otherwise innocent populace of the CW, and it's not right. Raiders piss me off!"

"Okay look," Taneesha Jones said, and by now she really was just Taneesha Jones. Not Vicious. Not Miss Vicious at all. "You can do ... whatever." She shuddered weakly, looking toward a fallen raider nearby. "I guess I'll thank you for sparing me. But please, can you spare my girlfriend? Her name's Bratty, and she's wearing a pink dress."

"Pink dress, eh? Yeah, I saw her outside the school, just before coming in here." Cho the Lone Wanderer picked up his gun, and hoisted it on his back. "Bratty, you say? What kind of a name is that? 'Bratty'?"

Taneesha again had no reply. Merely looked glumly at her crummy raider boots.

"Get yourself together, Taneesha. You deserve better than this."

"Hey, don't give me that lesson in morality," she answered slowly and sadly. "Believe me, I've been struggling with this. Was just about to get out of the game." She broke eye contact with the man before her. That is true. I was just about to get out ... wasn't I?

"Alright, so we have a deal?" the former dweller of Vault 101 gestured. "You're going to get out of this life, IF, and that's a very BIG IF, you get yourself away from these creeps."

Taneesha Jones nodded.

"Good. I'm outta here. Now, you aren't gonna shoot me in the back are you?"

The Lone Wanderer did not wait for a reply. Perhaps because he could see the young lady before him was not armed. And then he was gone.



She spent the next hour or two getting her bearings back, while wandering the school. Finally found her friend in Springvale's lower level, a place where the teachers' lounge had once been, along with the gymnasium and the janitor's hold.

"Dude!!! What happened here?" the Brat asked. Had the drug caused her a total knockout too? Did not seem so. Bratty looked to be her usual bratty self.

"I don't have no idea," Vicious lied, hoping to keep her friend from turning into a total maniac while trying to find the culprit. "Whoever it was wasted everyone but us, seems like."

And predictably, "*CLUCK!!! Let's go find the *corkhole* so we can waste him! C'mon, Vicious!"

But Miss Vicious Delicious was not in the mood for even pretending to do this. Her head, it began to spin again. Her knees felt wobbly.

"No. Let's get back to my classroom, Brat. Let's get some rest. Tomorrow we head out of here. I promise. Pinky-swear promise, in fact."

"DAMMIT!!! You never want to have any fun!!!"

That's right Miss Bratty, thought Taneesha as both of them started back toward her room. From now on, one of us is not going to be very fun.


------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chem Dealer Cowers (tlb enhanced)

The Lone Wanderer's First Victim

This one lost his head

Down for Good

Commotion in the Classroom

(It just happened that the three male raiders Vicious interacted the most with during this story all congregated into her classroom. This was unplanned!)

Rick Retaliates

Goodbye Slick Rick

Chem Dealer's Last Steps

"You're the one's been living with Lucy West"

Quest Completed

The morning after. Ugh. Is there the part that Miss V swears to never touch the stuff again? That was a big part in me giving up on alcohol entirely. The other part of course being that once I was 21 and it was legal for me to drink, it was suddenly a lot less interesting.

Uh oh, the school is under attack!

Is it the Rattler!

Oh no, its a Player Character! It is very cool how you worked Cho Zen Wan into this.

What kind of name is Bratty? A descriptive one.

And she is her usual, Bratty self. I don't think Bratty will ever be an indoor kitty.

A neat end to this story arc. Miss V's life with the raiders definitely seems to be at an end. Unless some other group pulls her back into the game.

'Rosa, if you were able to give it up that early, you're one of the lucky ones. I still struggle with substance abuse at times, which is part of the reason it's great I have this writing hobby to keep me busy. Good thing is, I've ever had any serious probs with alcohol or cigs, at least. Those are the worst in a way since they're legal.

Hee hee, nope, not the Rattler! 🐍 That would really suck if he showed up. He wouldn't have let her go.

Like I said, I'll begin writing this again hopefully in Spring of 2023. Some crazy stuff is going to go down next season.

I wanted to show off share the main script I came up with, for anyone out there who wants to get a peek behind the scenes. Keep in mind that last week when I couldn't get the quest to move forward, the ONLY thing keeping it from doing so was a very n00bish mistake. The fourth line which starts like "If (GetStage aaaSiegeOfSpringvaleQuest == 20)" I forgot to put both GetStage and the qualifier (the twin equal signs). So it said "If (aaaSiegeOfSpringvaleQuest 20)" which won't fail the script editor, but is meaningless in the game.

---------------------------------------

scriptname aaaSiegeOfSpringvaleQuestScript

short DoOnce

Begin MenuMode

If (GetStage aaaSiegeOfSpringvaleQuest == 20) && (IsPCSleeping == 1) && (DoOnce <1)

.....aaaBrattyRef.Moveto aaaBrattyStage80SiegeOfSpringvaleXMarker
.....aaaChoZenWanRef.MoveTo aaaChoZenWanSpringvaleSiegeXMarker

.....Set aaaRaiderFollowerQuest.Status to 2
.....aaaQTipRef.disable

.....Set DoOnce to 1

EndIf
End


Begin GameMode

If (DoOnce == 1)

.....aaaChozenWanRef.AddScriptPackage aaaChoZenWanPlunderSpringvale
.....ShowMessage aaaSiegeOfSpringvaleStage20Message
.....Set DoOnce to 2

EndIf

If (aaaChoZenWanRef.GetDistance Player <= 512) && (DoOnce == 2)

.....aaaChoZenWanRef.StopCombat Player
.....aaaChoZenWanRef.AddScriptPackage aaaApproachPlayerPackage
.....Set DoOnce to 3

EndIf

If (GetStage aaaSiegeofSpringvaleQuest >= 80) && (DoOnce == 4)

.....aaaChoZenWanRef.AddScriptPackage aaaChoZenWanLeaveSpringvale
.....aaaChoZenWanRef.StopCombat Player
.....Set DoOnce to 5

EndIF

End

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

What the raiders lack in brains, they make up for with lack of tactical prowess - particularly vs a seemingly competent foe.

Ahah, so it is the Chosen One doing his civic vigilante duty. Good on him. Taneesha will be wise to heed his advice.

Though she is now the Principal of Springvale she is probably better to move on. Taking Bratty with her will be an additional challenge though, for as SubRosa wisely said: 'I don't think Bratty will ever be an indoor kitty'.

Ah, I only got back into the subforum just in time for the end of this season, eh? Sorry for my absence. Well, what a way to end it.

Never ceases to amuse me how bold and taunting raiders can be when they are getting their doors blown off.

That's something I hope Bethesda improves on from Starfield onward. I don't want my enemies running away all the time as would be more "realistic," because that would just get annoying. But it would be really cool if their AI could better understand that they are getting routed, like if the confidence in their voice lines diminished. Fallout 4 did make strides in this regard (e.g. "You're gonna f---ing pay for that!" when you waste one of the raiders' buddies), but it was still inconsistent and still often followed up by lines like "it's called shooting straight, rookie" when I'm level 60 and carrying ordnance the likes of which they could only barely comprehend.

Pretty cool how some of these things lined up so perfectly, like Slick Rick and those two other raiders congregating in the same spot, in a game where so many random and radiant AI-driven things happen.

How neat that the Lone Wanderer encountered your character and had a little heart-to-heart. It had to happen at some point. I imagine he'll be telling Lucy West, "You'll never guess who I saw at the ruins of Springvale Elementary."

Taneesha is lucky that the Lone Wanderer had a little bit of mercifulness to him.

And so ends the story...for now.

Uh oh, what a twist! Cho comes in, blazin' guns, I somehow had a feeling that Taneesha would survive it but I wasn't sure about Bratty. Glad to see that they both made it out alive. I really like the part, where Cho recognizes Taneesha and starts talking to her.

All her former frenemies (I like this word) gone in a matter of a few minutes. Cho definitely cleared the school for good.

The story ends for now, you say...I'm curious what will the next season bring. Maybe the Dogmaster will finally show up.

Awesome, I am glad you have caught up Lopov. Been waiting, in fact! Mainly I was wondering if anyone would put together the hints about Cho being a raider-hunter, whenever his name got mentioned.

This story will continue probably in May or June. Whenever it gets warm (well, it's already frickin' too warm...)

Good afternoon. ☕ Today starts Season Four of Miss Vicious Delicious. I’ve been torn between Joanie and Vicious these past few weeks. Maybe I'll write some Joan too this summer, but I'm not gonna write both at the same time.

I’m planning on writing somewhere between 8 to 10 episodes of Vicious this summer, sort of like a mini-series we’d see on Netflix nowadays. I’ve known from the beginning how her tale is supposed to conclude, so here goes. Chances are I’ll then return to Joan during autumn.

Today’s pilot episode requires a recap, so we can remember what the heck’s going on in this story, right? This includes ME!!! along with all of you. Forgotten a few things.

Now for our narrator, who sounds a lot like The First 48 narrator Dion Graham.

Last we saw, Miss Vicious, aka Taneesha Jones, just escaped the devastating siege of Springvale Elementary School. Pseudo-military Brotherhood of Steel member Cho Zen Wan, also known throughout the Capital Wasteland as the Lone Wanderer, has killed all raiders who’d been dwelling within the school, sparing only Vicious and her best friend Bratty. Upon completing his siege, Cho then vacated the school, telling Vicious (whom he also knows as Taneesha; he’s familiar with her as a civilian in Megaton…) he hopes she’s going to choose a wiser path for her future.

Now… Miss Vicious and Bratty are headed to Rivet City, where Vicious then plans to live a hopefully quiet, raider-free life. But first, Taneesha must return to Megaton to retrieve her gear…


Pilot episode of MVD coming soon!

Episode 54: The Eviction

Date: Monday, September 24, 2277, about 1 AM


“You! You’re a raider? I can’t believe it! How long has this been going on?”

Taneesha Jones stood before her housemate, dumbfounded. Unable to respond for a moment or two. - Dag, she already knows! - She’d needed to return to Megaton and then Lucy’s place in order to get her things: her modified shotgun, her 21st-century police-issued Tazer, her clothes and ammo, and any other personal items she could scrounge. She'd decided to make the walk from Springvale School to Megaton after midnight. Once inside Lucy West's house she'd leave a note, hoping to avoid a saddened goodbye.

“Hey look Lucy, I can explain…”

“I don’t wanna hear it!” Lucy’s voice rose. “YOU. A *clucking* raider?!”

Miss Lucy West, respectable member of Megaton’s small and insular Wasteland society for several years now, crossed her arms, discreetly making sure the knife she’d been in the habit of carrying was tucked within her jacket. “Now it all makes sense. Your absences, especially at night. The chem-syringes I’ve occasionally been finding around the house. Getting caught stealing, and then going to jail!” The woman who’d taken Taneesha in smacked her own head with some force. “How could I not’ve seen the signs?!”

Taneesha nodded. “Guess news spreads fast,” she muttered, looking to the floor. She’d been hoping Cho Zen Wan, the BoS scout who’d caught her dwelling within the raider-infused Springvale School as he shot up the place, wouldn’t tell anyone about Taneesha’s double-life. That his unfortunate discovery would become a secret shared only between the two of them.

“I’m truly sorry, Lucy, really I am. But it ain’t no thing, okay? Matter of fact, was on my way out. Heading off to Rivet City, actually. Was hoping you'd be asleep; was gonna leave a note. Only reason I’m here is to get ma things. Was hoping it wouldn't turn out this way. In any case, you’ll never see my *behind* again.”

“Oh, you got that right! You’re getting the HELL out of here! Matter of fact you’ve got about… two minutes to get ALL your things out of MY house, before I report a trespasser..” To Taneesha’s astonishment, Lucy then began counting backwards “Sixty. Fifty-nine. Fifty-eight…”

Hey, that ain’t two minutes!

Not that it mattered much; she’d be outta here before long. Wasn’t like she owned a whole lot of things. Taneesha Jones did her best to heed what was now her former friend’s warning. Rushed toward the locker she’d been using to store things over the past few weeks, where she grabbed her guns, her ammo, her cigs and chems, her precious flashlight,.

“Thirty-eight. Thirty-seven. Thirty-six…”

She then rushed across the upper floor of the tin-constructed home, her boots clanking and scuffling loudly over the metal causeway which joined their two open bedrooms. She opened the wardrobe Lucy had allowed her to use during her stay, which was mostly full of apparel. Grabbed as many outfits as she could, stuffing them into an ages-old duffel bag with a Feebok label on it, whatever the heck Feebok was. Some sort of athletic brand, she’d been told.

“Twenty-nine! Twenty-eight!”

Lucy’s voice rose yet another notch, scaring the *skit* out of her evictee, causing panic. Only good thing about this harried encounter between Taneesha and her now-former landlady is that Bratty wasn’t here. Taneesha (still dressed in raider gear, therefore Miss Vicious) had convinced the brat to stay behind in Springvale. Her Lady’s Intuition had told Vicious that somehow, keeping Bratty out of Megaton would be one heck of a good idea, and boy-o, what a good decision that’d been.

“Fourteen! Thirteen!!” Lucy growled, baring actual teeth.

“Here,” Taneesha said calmly, with just twelve seconds to go. “You never did charge me for staying in your home, but take these anyway,” she said, tossing a handful of caps on a nearby counter. “Sorry, again,” she said, her voice cracking. “Wish things turned out different, Miss West.”

And with that, Taneesha Jones was out the door.

The silence which followed was about as absolute as silence can be, in a home and town made mostly of solder-welds, metal planks, rebar, and whatever else Megatonians were able to scavenge. Therefore, the usual cacophony of sounds fill the air; creaks and groans which over time, most folks in Megaton would typically ignore. But to Lucy, the din within her home seemed suddenly, enormously loud.

“I love you, Taneesha Jones,” Lucy West finally said inside her vacated house. “But I also never want to see you again.”

—----------------------------

Taneesha's troubles weren't over yet, however.

"STOP!" Megaton's enforcement officer shouted. "You're under arrest!"

Uh oh. "I am?"

The officer explained that Taneesha had accrued a few offences, but did not explain what these offences were. Lucy West was still inside her home, and couldn't possibly have reported Taneesha for trespassing. Not yet.

"Cho. The Lone Wanderer," Taneesha mumbled. He's the one. Bastard told on me, for being a raider!

"You have but three choices," the officer explained. "Pay some caps, go to our illustrious jail, or you can resist. I suggest you choose one of the first two."

Taneesha thought for a moment. She'd already been to jail, with the stupid Jail Bot annoying her to no end, day and night. She ain't gettin' my caps. Which only left one choice.

"Oh hail no, *witch*. Guess you'll have to catch me then!"

"I'm about to send my goon after you," officer-*witch* said. "You'd better get out of Megaton NOW!"





Not a prob. Wasn't like she'd ever be coming back.

The *witch* officer swung her nightstick, but Taneesha was too quick! She rushed down the rampway, made a sharp right past the unexploded bomb which served as the object of religion for the Church of Atom. Down here, a figure came rushing toward her, but it was too dark to see. "I'm gonna tear you apart!" a man said. Probably he was the 'goon' referred to by the enforcement *witch*.

Again, Miss West sidestepped, avoiding whatever the goon swung at her.

"Are you lookin' for the mayor? Or the sheriff?" asked Lucas Simms, Megaton's mayor and sheriff.

Taneesha stomped up the hill, her Feebok bag rustling along with her. Within seconds she was out of Megaton, her eyes casting mere glances behind her to see if the officer and her goon were coming to hunt the evictee down. But no one followed. No one came after her.

"Phew."

Half-hour later, Taneesha transformed into Miss Vicious, trading her dirty Prewar attire for badlands-style raider gear before returning to Springvale School.

"Eh, what took you so long?" asked Bratty, who seemed wired on something. "You got a cig, Vicious? ... Eh? What's the matta wichu?" she questioned, her Jersey accent going full force. Probably had something to do with the wetness under her best friend's eyes.

Rivet City would be a fresh start. Supposedly, most of the city’s inhabitants were down-to-earth types, workers and settlers, so it wouldn’t be like Tenpenny Tower, the first place Taneesha had stayed, with all those fake-*bass* phonies. Rivet City itself was a gigantic Prewar military ship. From what she'd been hearing, the place was well fortified against super mutants, and other Wasteland threats. But also raiders. Once Taneesha, Bratty, and possibly Q-Tip stepped onto the boat, they'd be leaving their raider lives behind.

"I'll no longer be Miss Vicious once I go that route," Taneesha Jones said an hour later in the classroom she'd claimed as her home over the past month or so.

"Huh? Whatcha talkin' bout now?" Bratty queried. Stupid girl was still wearing that stupid pink dress.

"C'mon brat, let's get some sleep. Got a big day tomorrow."


----------------------------------

Lucy is pissed

Countdown begins...

Leaving Lucy West

Officer *witch* lady

Goodbye Megaton

Lopov'd

---------------------------------`


Notes: 1). When Lucy said "You're getting the HELL out of here" I used LucyWestRef.SendTresspassAlarm PlayerRef which causes Taneesha to have a certain amount of time to get out of Lucy's house. But I wasn't fast enough! I think this gave my toon a MinorCrime (the GECK defines some crimes as Minor, such as Stealing and Trespassing. Others, such as Assault and Murder as Major). Pretty sure Taneesha picked up the Trespassing charge.

Suffice to say, she won't be welcome back in Megaton ever again!

Welcome back, Renee, as you start a new season of Miss Vicious Delicious.

Aww, too bad about Lucy being so mad. Taneesha got away with no casualties though. And with her stuff. Really think Cho ratted her out?

Feebok. Oh yeah, not as kewl as Niekey but good nonetheless.

Good luck trying to clean Bratty up for Rivet City.

Miss V is back!

Uh oh, Lucy found out that Taneesha is also Miss Vicious. This won't go well.

I love that Lucy thinks two minutes is made up of sixty seconds!

Somebody sold Taneesha out. If not the Cho Zen Wan, then I can't imagine who else. Unless someone from Megaton saw her sneaking back and forth to Springvale.

That was a close escape from Megaton, with the cops trying to close in on her.

So now it is off to Rivet City to start a new life. I don't think Bratty is up for life on the straight and narrow though. But we will see. At least she seems to like wearing the pink dress, as opposed to raider gear. *That* would not fly in Rivet City.

Miss V might be able to go back to Megaton. Just wait for 3 days and try. Several of my characters killed Moriarty, usually with a bottlecap mine in his office. The whole town usually turned hostile afterward. But after the cells reset in 3 days, they all went back to normal and I was able to come and go like normal.

Cool, glad y'all agree. I've been really, really psyched about writing again. Gonna post the next episode earlier than usual since I got the day off. And also, today is beginning of summer; the longest day of the year. 🌞

Thanks SubRosa, indeed Miss V is back. I think Lucy was trying to freak Vicious out. She says there will be two minutes of countdown but then only gives a minute. Sort of like when somebody says they're gonna punch someone else in 3 seconds if they don't do X, but when the countdown begins WHAM!

So now it is off to Rivet City to start a new life. I don't think Bratty is up for life on the straight and narrow though

Oh yeah. There's some of the plot! Anyone who's played FO3 and also has been to Rivet City can guess some of what could possibly happen. Gonna be hella fun to write.

Mm hmm i know about the 3 day crime thing but Vicious will never return to Megaton, not unless I make a Season Five. Pretty sure porr Taneesha is banned for life though. Like, pretty sure that's how I wrote the Crime mod stuff 3 summers ago. The player gets 3 chances, and if all three get used up, both those officers will try to hunt the PC down if they return to Megaton. It is possible to pwn both those officers too, but this isn't easy.

In any event, Taneesha Jones simply wants to move on.


Thanks Acadian, and how are you today?

Really think Cho ratted her out?

Wow. Picked up a subtlety, maybe without even realizing. Hmm. Should I spoil? Probably I should a little, just to explain Cho's side.

So I'll partially spoil. Cho did rat Taneesha out, because in his mind, he's worried for Lucy's safety. Raiders in Fallout can do some horrendous, disgusting things, such as hanging corpses in their lairs, corpses which were obviously tortured alive. This doesn't mean ALL of them behave this way though. I like to imagine that a lot of raiders are raiders for the endless partying. Drinking, chems, sleeping whenever they want, etc. But from Cho's point of view, that's the side of raiderhood he sees: the ugly side.

However... the question is: did Cho also tell Megaton's officers?


This next chapter is a lot of backstory. Some of you may find it tedious, not as entertaining as usual. But it's only for this one chapter. And only to explain some of my gal's past. 2,275 words according to WordCounter.net. A little long, but necessary to explain all at once, I feel.

Tenpenny Tower was mentioned in that last chapter as the initial dwelling where this story began. Yet that stopover was not her first-ever visit. Two years and some odd months in the past was her earliest experience with the residents of the highbrow high-rise hotel.

Let us take a glance into Taneesha’s past, to better understand what happened…



Episode 55: The Kingdom Hall of Ellicott City

Date: Sometime in the Year 2275
Location: mid-central to mid-south Maryland

Taneesha Jones had been traveling with a group of Bible-thumpers collectively known as Jehovah's Witnesses: good, God-fearing Evangelist types who'd been destined to spread The Word.

At the age of 16, she was the youngest of the group. She’d only been allowed to go with them after begging the Elders, arguing that her proficiency with armaments would be valuable as they traveled. Really, she'd only wanted to walk with them so she could get out and see the world, no matter how torn-up it was. Her whole life, she'd been mostly stuck in the temple.

"Young Taneesha professes her intent concerns protection," Elder Stave lectured after learning the teen's intent, speaking at her in the Third Person, as though she were not standing right before him. "That she shalt not aim her musket unless the intent is to blast, and only for the intention of protection... Of this she makes promise?"

Taneesha professed, and promised. Guns and bombs were not the usual methods priests and prophets would resort to while spreading the Word of God to other humans of course, but the realities of America had changed. Taneesha’s shotgun (and the weapons of a couple others who were allowed to carry) would only see use when the group encountered mutated creatures and monsters.

Or so went their thinking, at first….

Days passed as the group travelled roughly south. Then a week, and another week. It’d been a long journey by that point; knocking on the doors of various homes and settlements in the middle of nowhere, only to have that same door slammed a few moments later by irritated inhabitants, who had no desire to be ‘saved’. So far, only two of the fifty-three establishments they'd stopped by had welcomed them inside. Apparently, Witnesses from the 19th Century into the 21st had encountered plenty of refusals, as well. Yet here in the 23rd, a slammed door was one of the better reactions the group encountered! — At worst, they’d been shot at! ... Once, they'd even had a grenade tossed their way!

By the time they'd reached the gigantic tower reality had slapped them all, dozens of times. Three of the original fifteen parishioners who'd been journeying had perished; discussion of returning back north had begun. Even so, Tenpenny Tower beckoned to the group from miles away, place was so tall. Such an obvious destination to reach. Such an obvious destination to preach!

Let us forge ahead! cried Elder John, the absolute leader of the group, after they'd decided to count ayes and nays. The others reluctantly agreed. If Taneesha could've placed her own "nay" the vote would've been decisively hung, but at sixteen she was too young for their impromptu poll.

According to Jehovah, The End was always coming; always, The End was near. Better prepare for Paradise was the constant reminder Young Taneesha had heard. Those who were selected and faithful would enter the Kingdom of Zion, she’d been told over and over, after The End befell. The Earth would perish in fire and hailstones and groundquakes, and so on. This ‘End’ was often given an actual date as well, whether it’d be weeks, or months, or years ahead. This is how she’d been raised.

But let us go back even further in time…





It was late in the Year 2265, and the waif was once again missing!

Her name was Taneesha, according to the note they'd found. The Witnesses who’d taken her in a year ago had done their best to teach the youngster what was expected of her. Taneesha’s surname ‘Jones’ was the suggestion of one of the Fathers, who initially wanted to follow Taneesha with ‘Doe’. As in ‘Jane Doe’. As in: we don’t know who this poor child is, but here’s the most popular ‘unknown name’ in all history.

Thankfully, Taneesha Doe was outvoted by other adults, and ‘Jones’ was substituted. Jones was a popular surname back before the war, along with Smith, Gonzales, and White, three other suggestions from the temple’s leaders. In the end, Jones won the vote.

But back on topic. Because young Taneesha Jones? She was, once again, nowhere to be found.

It was important that they teach their new orphan the proper vision Jehovah had in store for her, for all inhabitants of Earth, in fact. But especially for Taneesha. Because her natural parents had apparently failed; one or both of them had left her behind, somewhere up on (what had been) Route 40. Or maybe both of them'd been killed, and Taneesha's remaining caretaker(s) couldn't continue fostering the child. Either way, now it was up to the Ellicott City Kingdom Hall Elders to get it right. Taneesha Jones was destined to be saved from the beginning; she became a sort of religious refugee from the day they took her in. The other forty or so Kingdom Hall children had all been raised under their roof from birth. Taneesha, therefore, was "special". She'd be more of a challenge; an ongoing advent for eternal salvation.

The term 'End Of Days' was most important, to those who expected to survive Second Armageddon. For them, nothing else much mattered.

Other folks, they celebrated trivial things: birthdays, historical dates, and America’s former holidays, even deep underground these traditions were maintained. They practiced a variety of medical treatments which were interpreted to be forbidden by Jehovah. Other folks, they pledged allegiance to America's flag, prayed to a variety of symbolic items (such as crosses), and so on.

To the Witnesses, such things were shunned as unimportant, not that Jones knew any difference. Whoever abandoned her near the Ellicott City Temple Hall in the Year 2265 also indicated the child was six at the time, upon the note they'd found nearby. Other than this possible clue, Taneesha would have no idea what her full date of birth could’ve been, later in life.

– First Armageddon occurred on October 23rd, 2077; the Great War demolished the world. The Witnesses who remained after The End believed they were the only humans left on the planet. Well, somewhere else on Earth were 143,943 other souls who'd also been allowed salvation. According to what they believed, 144,000 were supposed to survive while billions were destined for Hell. Funny thing though: Heaven looked a heck of a lot like Earth, many admitted to themselves, but dared not say to one another, at least not initially. Heaven looked like Earth, except Earth's beautiful landscapes had now become endless, irradiated wastes.

But still. Finally, our proclamations came true! many believed. -Yet this 'end' had occurred after two centuries of predictions which’d publicly fallen flat.

Though the organization’s past was complicated and many of its records disorganized, its attempt to discern when the End of Days would actually occur had come and passed numerous times. For example, the years 1914, 1925, 1975, and 2033 had been widely publicized as doomsdays. Not just within their own Watchtower pamphlets, but in popular media: newspapers, television shows, and online. The Second Coming of Christ had been predicted for 1878, 1881, 1914, 1918, and 1925. Each time…embarrassingly it might seem… these things did not happen. Anticipatory clocks would be reset while Watchtower members claimed their foretellings had occurred 'invisibly'. And yet, when the world as everyone knew it actually did come to an end in 2077, the Governing Body of Watchtower Society, those seven men at the very top of the organization in Bethel, New York, had made no public announcement, nor had they passed any info to any of the 13,000 or so Kingdom Halls across America. Apparently, they hadn’t foreseen this important date.

But this doesn’t mean some lesser-known members in smaller burbs hadn’t been proactive.

Ellicott City in the Year 2077 was a sprawling mixture of land, population: about 100,000. At its center was the ‘historic’ district, founded in the Year 1772 by a man named James Hood. Over the next 300 years the town’s initial population grew, of course. Most of what followed were typical suburban-like territories: single-family houses and the like, well-maintained parks and kempt lawns, strip malls, schools, and establishments which had nothing to do with the quaint historic area founded by Sir Hood. The Witnesses declared a property located on a downhill section of the city’s Centennial Lane as theirs some time in the 1950s or ‘60s, and here became the organization’s next Kingdom Hall.

Most Witnesses back then were academic Luddites. Uneducated past the high school level, which was intentional. According to Jehovah, what’d be needed in the afterlife were carpenters, mechanics, electricians, grade-school teachers and the like. Lawyers would not be needed. Politicians and scientists would not be needed, and so on. College education was reserved only for those at the top. Yet, some wiser Elders of Ellicott City's Kingdom Hall had certainly seen the future. Their temple was not a vault per se, but the E.C. congregation had seen what was happening in other sections of America; an abundance of vault construction, that is, then decided they would attempt to follow Vault-Tec's example.

Because of these decisions, Taneesha Jones would grow up in a Temple Hall which included its very own underground bunkers. The hall itself had been partially blown to pieces after a warhead aimed toward Baltimore in 2077 had glitched, demolishing most of Ellicott City instead. But their bunker? It had easily survived. A hundred or so years after the bomb, some brave members then rebuilt the rest of their temple aboveground.

Perhaps being solely proficient at carpentry, grade-school learning, lighting, wiring, and mechanical pursuits had been wiser ideas, after all!

Eventually, they realized they weren't the only ones who'd survived; others were milling upon Earth's surface as well, even outside of vaults. First Armageddon hadn't wiped the Earth clean, which meant a second wrathful attempt from God was surely to come.

And so began their fate. 'We must return to evangelizing,' became the eventual train of thought. 'For the remaining souls of our world must receive His message.'





Date: Sometime in the Year 2275

Let us return to this year. Apologies for all the date-jumping, but here comes the conclusion.

…Taneesha and her band of preachers, arrived just outside Tenpenny Tower. Tired, hungry, but dutifully performing the will of their Father, spreading His prophecies. The tower appealing to these weary travellers as a sort of gigantic beacon of safety. Populated by hundreds of folks they’d heard, some of them had to be God-fearing types still practicing other forms of Christian religion. They’d be welcome within, for sure!

Over the past few days and weeks, Young Taneesha had become more and more anxious, overcome with uncertainty as door after door were slammed in their faces. Why had I begged so fervently to come along? Was it because I'd been so desperate to see the outside world? Most probably, yes.

– Yet here was Tenpenny Tower, fortified and grand, just forty paces away. They’d made it! Here, they’d be offered sanctuary for sure…

…Everything going well, the guards at the former hotel’s gate promising they’d be offered safe harbor for a while, even if the only place they’d be able to stay would be within the tower’s lobby, sleeping on its floor. All that was needed by then was the final say-so from Allistair Tenpenny himself, then they'd be welcomed inside…

…But the Elders began their usual spiel. The most current volume of Awake!, the Watchtower pamphlet which'd been in publication since the 1880s, was displayed and profferred. 'God's Kingdom: What can it mean for YOU?' was the latest edition's title.

“...bathe thyselves within the word of our Father, Jehovah,” Elder John had stated, passing a copy of Awake! to one of the guards.

“We are here to emancipate all who dwell within the sanctity of thy walls,” Elder Julissa followed, “His words must be heard, and obeyed! Otherwise, all within shall be damned to Satan's hell for all eternity! ... For Second Armageddon, it draws nearer each day...”

…Taneesha Jones, cringing! Because once again, she knew what was coming next. Sure enough, it all went downhill from there. The door they'd needed to pass through never slammed shut this time, but it also never opened. They’d been told to ‘get lost’, by the guards. Allistair himself had come all the way down from his top-floor suite by then, decreeing that the group would never be allowed entry.

So this was it. Time to head home.

…But they hadn't gotten far. With nowhere else to go they'd tried to spend their night within the walls of a former robot factory, without realizing most of its Protectrons and RoboBrains were still active. After getting attacked by the bots they'd fled RobCo Facility, only to get hammered AGAIN outside, this time by raiders. The group had gotten scattered mighty quick as the raiders hunted them like a pack of wild dogs. Probably all the Ellicott City Witnesses were killed that night.

All except Taneesha Jones, of course. A master of hiding ever since the age of seven, when she’d learned to avoid the tedious lectures of the Elders by hiding in a crawlspace. "The waif, she’s missing again!" the adults would panic, while young Taneesha would hone the craft which later would save her life.

Hours later she'd emerge from her spot, inventing whatever story fit best at the moment.

A bee was trying to kill me! ...whatever. And most of the time she actually succeeded with these lies. Because she was 'special'. She'd been the Chosen One in their eyes, destined to be saved, since her own parents had left her behind.

...And so it was. In the Year 2275 while the rest of her group scattered and succumbed, sixteen-year-old Taneesha Jones, eventually confronted by raiders. Crafting yet another untruth, which the despicable roustabouts believed only because of her despicable appearance upon discovery. After weeks of scrounging in the Capital Wasteland she looked no better than them. Her formerly shined-up shoes were scuffed. Her formerly demure Sunday dress, tattered and torn. And, she had a shotgun!

She'd been questioned. Tested. Finally, inducted. In the end it'd been raiders who'd taken her in, when nobody else in the Wasteland had done so. Door after door, slammed in her face.

Yet the raiders allowed her within, which caused Young Taneesha to espouse loyalty toward her new brothers and sisters. First thing to go was her full given name. Taneesha Jones became Miss Vicious soon afterward. Later on she couldn't remember exactly how her new nickname came about. But she accepted it, knowing a return to her former life in Ellicott City was most likely impossible. Chances were, she'd never make it back there alive.

These were the things Vicious wished she could've explained to Lucy West, to the Lone Wanderer, to anyone who would've taken the time to listen.


----------------------

This was the Kingdom Hall of Ellicott City. Now it's a Hindi temple.

Ellicott City Historic area

Jehovah Witnesses research site 1

Witnesses research site 2

Well done, Renee! This historical background was presented in such a way as to be both easy to read and enjoyable.

Too bad that Taneesha’s group threatened their potential hosts at Tenpenny Tower with Divine punishment instead of being wise enough to try being gracious when offered hospitality.

Those Witnesses never were a good fit for Taneesha. They’re good at pissing people off and can’t fight – a bad combination. Ironic that it was with the Raiders she found a home.

I love the touch of how the Elder deliberately speaks in the Third Person, to deliberately elevate themself above others who speak normally.

And Taneesha gets a lot of doors slammed in her face. As I understand it, this is the actual purpose of it all. To send young members out into the world, knowing that their preaching will irritate and annoy people, and cause them to react negatively. They are not supposed to convert people. The real goal is to reinforce the division between the acolytes and the rest of the world. To make them feel that they are not welcome out in the outside world, and that the only place they will find real friendship and companionship is within the Witnesses. It makes it very, very hard to ever leave.

At least that is the case now, IRL. The stakes are obviously a lot higher in Taneesha's world!

Is Second Armageddon anything like Second Breakfast? Just asking for the hobbits.

Nice background on the many looked for Armageddons that never came. It seems Armageddon is like a wizard. It is never late, or early, but arrives precisely when it means to. And the people who make these predictions just keep on predicting, and no one bats an eye.

Well, one can certainly get behind the idea of no more lawyers... And honestly, having skill in more practical matters would definitely be useful when it comes to having to fend for oneself in the wasteland.

I don't think they are even going to get in the front door of Tenpenny Tower. They are probably going to be as welcome as ghouls.

Wow, that was a bad night in the RobCo factory, and worse outside. I figured something like that must have taken place to turn Taneesha into Miss Viscous. It is still sad to read though.

That was some nice (and by nice I mean horrific) background on how Miss V became who she is.

I really appreciated how you worked Ellicott City into the story. As I recall you live there don't you? Or at least lived there at one time? I like when people write about the places they know so intimately like that, because you can really breathe a landscape into life when it is so ingrained into your life.

You did a lot of really good research into the Jehovah's Witnesses. Are or were you a former member? In any case, your knowledge of them really shines through here. I liked how you took the real history and blended it into the Fallout future.

Okay, Computer probs. Yeah. Gotta take my gaming spaceship to the Geeks.

I'm glad you two liked that last chapter, was worried I'd gone "too far" with the religious stuff. But that's her story, how she's become who she's become.

I have a personal thing with the JW myself. Jenny, my best friend in high school, joined the Witnesses some time during our first year of college. We went to different colleges, see. Anyway, she was a very upbeat person, always easy to talk to, really we kept each other entertained all during senior year. -- Kept me out of trouble, too.

That first summer after college, she called and wanted to come over, so I say "Of course! Can't wait to see you!" And she shows up with this guy. Guy's got a little tie on, both of them were very properly dressed. Jen was wearing a dress which was sort of gussy. Not really "Jen" clothes, if that makes any sense. She looked as though she was headed off to a job interview or something. And this was in summer!

"Come on in!" I say.

We sit on the back deck, probably poured some sodas or whatever. Have a seat, etc. See normally, if folks came to the door and start talking about the end of the world or whatever, passing over their little pamphlets, maybe I'd take the pamphlet (out of curiosity) but other than that, I'm doing whatever I can to make them skedaddle. But in this case I couldn't do this: JEN was my FRIEND!!! So I had no other choice but to just sit there and listen to the spiel she and this guy began preaching, right in my family's house!

...looking back I think this was a bit of sly-thinking on their part. Because they didn't start preaching until they were safely inside, see? Because on some level, Jenny and that guy would've already known what might happen if they started with the religious stuff on the doorstep. Here was finally a chance to avoid that awkward doorstep encounter, see?

Anyway, our friendship just sort of dwindled. I mean, I tried, really I did! But Jenny was really into her new way of life, which is what that cult religion demands, of course.




Hard to say. I think they were a better fit for her early years of life than what she could've fallen into. She's educated, for one thing. She may talk "street" sometimes around the raiders ("No you ain't!"), but she also uses proper conjugation for situations like Megaton. ("No you aren't.") The elders taught her right, at least, when it comes to educational stuff.

She also never had to scrounge & survive without adult supervision during her youth. As a child left on her own, she was vulnerable to capture by slavers (Fallout has slavers, folks who go out trying to kidnap kids or adults). Keeping that in mind, we can say that at least the JW kept her safe from those monsters. She was also allowed to learn about protecting herself once she became a teen.


Off-topic, sorta, but Route 40 in real-life is a typical American suburban highway; really a direct opposite to EC's historic district. Strip mall after strip mall: Pep Boys, Giant, PetCo, McDonald's, Taco Bell, Wendy's, Five Guys!, 7-11, gas stations competing directly across the street from each other, and so on. For the Witnesses, they'd have convenient access to The Home Depot and also Ace Hardware, both of which take a couple hours to walk to, assuming no cars. Wal*Mart is further, up the road toward Baltimore. But my point is: those last three locations would've been visited quite heavily by the JW, before the war (buying goods so they could build their bunker) and after the war (scavenging).




I know! I loved that too. Honestly that whole paragraph was a series of mistakes and last-minute thinking. Because that was a late edit. Three drafts in total that story was; the Elder Stave parts got added in during the final edit. But for instance, I meant to write "Steve" but made a mistake (typing fast) and instead wrote Stave. Hey, that fits! Sort of old-timey, like what an Amish person might be named.

At first Stave was directing his questions to her in Second Person, but for some reason I saw the scene in my head and thought "NO, he's using Third Person." Because he doesn't fully see her on equal terms with all the adults, perhaps. Or maybe he's trying to sound Biblical or whatever.

Good thing is, in my imagination, not all the adults speak to "Young" people like Stave does. Some of them talk to her like she's an ordinary human.

Absolutely (in regards to how JW does things). Not sure if Witnesses are/were popular in Michigan, but where I live it was a semi-frequent occurance to get that knock on the door; maybe every other week back in the 1980s!


The real goal is to reinforce the division between the acolytes and the rest of the world. To make them feel that they are not welcome out in the outside world, and that the only place they will find real friendship and companionship is within the Witnesses.

wow, I think you're right!

And like a lot of religious organizations, the Witnesses also had (have... most likely) their share of pervs in their organization. Worldwide, folks who grew up as witnesses are beginning to speak out. Not just about forced sexual situations, but also the elders in that group were encouraged to really get intrusive, especially with women. Asking all sorts of questions to make sure they're "pure" or whatever. "How often do you menstruate? ... Have you any impure thoughts regarding sex?" and so on. Their questions get way more graphic than I feel comfortable typing, actually.

Anyway, I watched a documentary on Witnesses a month ago. Right away when folks began to speak out about getting fondeled or even r4ped by elders during their youth (speaking out during our modern times, that is), the seven guys in Bethel didn't waste time. They immediately lawyered-up! And they've been tougher-than-usual to prosecute, in comparison to the Catholic church, for instance.

I could go for a second breakfast!

Yeah, that does blow my mind even to this day, all those failed predictions. How did folks rectify that nonsense back in the day? Were they embarrassed? Were they covering their ass in public, when they met non-Witnesses in their local town squares? I couldn't really find any good answers as I researched. Not like today, where every person who defects from such an organization has a chance to spew their thoughts in a blog, or a podcast. Case in point: all the ladies who got suckered into the top levels of Nxium. A lot of them spoke out about their experience.

That was some nice (and by nice I mean horrific) background on how Miss V became who she is.

Graci. I imagine that her induction would've involved something horrific, like a street gang or a biker gang induction in our times. I don't want to imagine what this was, though. From that moment however, she did not participate in much of the gross stuff. I can't picture her hanging anyone from a wall, or posting them on a pike. She's mostly a raider for the 'party' side of things. Not all Hells Angels are fully-patched enforcers for instance, most of them are weekend warriors who have steady blue-collar jobs.

Yes, I live in Ellicott City. Grew up in Columbia, which is the next city south. Anyway, took a bit of courage to imagine my homeland all torn up, all those trees blasted away, etc. Just as I imagine it took some gumption to write up Belle Harbor and what happened during the Pride festival, and so on.


Anyway, back to reality. My gaming computer's down, and this is something I cannot fix. I'll bring up the subject in the Computer Problems thread soon (sadface).

You know how we were talking about Gary Gygax a little while ago? I just found out (for probably the fourth or fifth time, since I keep forgetting it) that he was a Jehovah's Witness. As well as a Libertarian. The Cool People Who Did Cool Stuff podcast just put out a two parter on the history of Dungeons and Dragons, and brought it up.

Right! I read about Gygax a few years ago during COVID. Also forgot he was a Witness. Maybe this was a reaction to all the doofs accusing DnD of satanism, eh?

Anyway, cool. I should listen to that podcast. Got my new graphics card yesterday, just waiting on a Display Port to VGA cable to show up in the mail (Best Buy didn't have one of these). Next Vicious might be this weekend, or it might be sometime next week.

Vicious coming soon. As a reminder (since it's been over a month!) Taneesha got evicted from Lucy West's place. And now she's headed to Rivet City with Bratty and Q-tip. When the story begins below, all three of them get as far as the raider camp just south of Dukov's Place.

Episode 56: Pipe Dreams

Date: Tuesday, September 25, 2277, early evening

Location: Festive Raider Camp (just south of Dukov’s Place).


As the following chapter begins, we find Miss Vicious laying upon one of Festive raider camp’s bunkbeds. Vicious, Bratty, and Q-tip made the trip from Springvale Elementary to Festive camp with just two incidents: they encountered a pair of Talon Company soldiers, and also fought a super mutant. And Vicious? Now she is resting, her mind altered on a combo of whiskey and medicinal chems. Perhaps for the last time, thinks she. Because things, they gonna change. Gotta change.

Rain drizzles lightly from the sky. Up until now, it's been one of those ‘perfect’ east coast autumn sort of days. Vicious, lying on the top bunk, floats into the world of brain-synapse fantasy...





In her latest daydream, it's before the Great War. A summery Friday evening; still early, sun dipping toward the horizon. Miss Vicious, riding shotgun in her boyfriend’s Bladillac. A Bladillac with the ‘T-8 Fusion engine’ option!

In the backseat, her best friend Bratty. Hmm, ‘Bratty’...

Her mind, flowing free-form, makes one of those unseen amendments which occur between full consciousness and sleep. So in Taneesha's vision, the brat has a proper name. Brenda, perhaps. Yet she also maintains her well-earned nickname: Bratty.

So... Brenda the Brat, in the backseat. Brenda/Brat has her own squeeze, as well. A fellow, that is. A prankster of sorts, sitting right beside her, wearing designer shades and a silly pastel suit. He's not anybody with a serious mind of course; just a dude who's able to put up with Brenda/Brat’s nonsense. Because he, himself, is just as much of a flirt, just as much a waste-case, just as much a wannabe as she.

Vicious’s boyfriend in the daydream is Q-tip. (Probably because Med-X-addled mind isn’t drawing up anyone else.) So Vicious and Q-tip, in the front seat...Brenda and Pastel Suit Guy in the rear.

Except she isn’t Vicious, the hippocampus part of her brain insists, neurons firing and misfiring like mad! Everyone in this mock-reality knows her as 'Taneesha', just as they do in the Twenty-third century.. So…

Taneesha Jones… lookin’ good beside her man in this fictional scenario. Hair & nails properly done before this double-date with the brat, just after leaving her swanky Georgetown-area condo.

They're off to see one of the latest flicks at Overlook Drive-In, outside of town. Rolling along in Q’s convertible Bladillac, top-down of course. Q-Tip, whose real name is Darius in Taneesha’s daydream, has a high-profile job involving lots of money; yet also his career is hip. An entertainment promoter, perhaps. – Taneesha works in an office of some sort; something to do with the fast-track of downtown D.C.; her hippocampus goes vague on details. Her bestest friend Brenda is one of those sorts who's always between jobs. Lately she's been working a perfume counter in Tysons Corner Center, one of the capital's ritziest malls.

(The brat's previous job was at a jewelry store. Got terminated from that one, anyone wanna take a guess why?)

The four of them off to the Overlook, oh yeah. Life is grand.

…And it’s the ages-old debate when it comes to which actual movie. The boys, arguing for ‘The Longest Card’, the Overlook’s 8:30 action flick, while the girls are wanting to see ‘Her Dame Friday’, the latest romantic comedy cranked out by Hollyweird. Really, what difference would either movie make in the end? ... All four of them would be fumbling and groping after Bratty spikes their sodas with hooch…

“Yo, where’s my smokes?!” Brenda/Brat screams from the back seat, totally accusatory.

“Whaa?” Taneesha utters, annoyed, from the front. “Hey, I don't know. What is it with you and cigs, girl? Always losing your cigarettes...”


“WHERE'S MY SMOKES?!” someone screamed a second time. A female voice with a Jersey accent; not necessarily Bratty’s. “Had ‘em right here! And now they is gone!!”

Miss Vicious cursed quietly from the mattress she laid upon. Just as she was about to slip off to slumber, the diorama in her head becoming an actual dream dream, she’d been awoken…

“That’s bull*crap*!” a male raider answered; another Jerseyite. Something smashed, probably an old glass bottle, waking Miss Vicious for good. “Those was MY cigarettes, fool,” he replied.

“But they was sittin' right there, up-for-grabs on the shelf,” the female countered, referring to the generally-unspoken rule of raider society that anything lying unclaimed in their territory could be snatched by anyone.

“But they was mine,” the man replied. Seemed as though he was making an effort not to shout, like, restraining his temper.

“Was not! Give’em back NOW!” The female shot back. --> Literally… She made her demand, then literally fired a round. *BKSSSH!!!*

“Oh *duck*.” — Vicious crouched onto the mattress, hands over her ears, back to reality for good. “So much for pipe dreaming my way to the Overlook.”

“Hey, whoa, whoa! No need for gunfire,” dude said, exasperated. “Look, here, have a cig…” he offered, hoping to resolve the issue. “It’s second-to-last, but gonna get another pack over a Dukov’s in a few.”

“No you isn’t,” lady-raider replied defiantly, an edge of menace in her voice.

Vicious palmed her face as realization dawned. - Bratty? - Out of all the girl raiders Vicious had known over the years, only the brat could maintain this level of defiance, over something so ridiculously unimportant.

“Am so,” the guy said. “Ask anyone ‘round here, I always good for my word, right Chuckie?"

"Right," a dude named 'Chuckie' apparently answered.

"Gonna head to Dukov’s later, get another pack. You can have halfsies, a'ight? After I get back. I’ll pay the caps, even-steven.”

Miss Vicious noticed the man’s tone of voice. Somewhere between pleading and performing, it was. As though he was halfway between trying to inform the brat about his character amongst the raiders who knew him, while also trying not to get shot! Although Vicious could not see what was going on yet, obviously the brat was holding the man at gunpoint. Over a near-empty pack of smokes.

“I’m always good with my word,” dude repeated. “Gonna head to Dukov’s later….”

“No you isn’t!” Bratty screamed.

“Yo, that’s incorrect English,” a third voice spoke, a male.

“HUH?”

“You said that wrong,” third voice continued. “It’s not: ‘no you isn’t’, it’s: ‘no you ain’t’. That’s the proper way to uh… confluate that verb.”

“Oh my gawd,” Vicious muttered. Q-Tip, playing the role of grammar cop.

“The *chuck* it is!” Bratty retorted, the snick of a fresh round being loaded into her .44. A second *clik-clak!* indicated the barrel being forced into place. ...Well, good thing was, sounded as though Q had distracted the brat. Didn’t sound as though she was concerned about cigarettes anymore, at least for the moment.

“Look, I got a way to settle this once and for all,” Q-Tip continued calmly. “YO VICIOUS!” he called.

“Oh lordy, have mercy…” Miss Vicious pouted. “WHAT?” she sat up from the mattress. “What the hell is it?”

“Come over here and settle this!” Q ordered, before seeing how perturbed his supposed girlfriend's face looked from across the plaza. “Uh, wouldya please settle this?”

“Yeah, come settle this!” the brat parroted, pack of cigs now totally forgotten.

Miss Vicious sat up, to glare at her friends. “Can’t you all see I’s been tryin’ to sleep over here?”

Bratty, stylishly dressed in vintage skin-tight jeans and a light jacket; pristine clothes Vicious had grabbed from Lucy West's place while being evicted. Q-tip was wearing typical scrubby raider gear. Standing side by side, waiting on Vicious to quell their latest quarrel. The rest of the raider camp, all of whom were strangers to the Vicious/Bratty/Q-Tip trio which showed up earlier that afternoon, gathered round.

“See, she was educated proper-like while growing up,” Vicious’s white-haired ‘boyfriend’ explained to the others. “She know the answer.” As he said this, he slipped a quick wink at his ‘girlfriend’.

“Why yes, I was educated,” Vicious caught the gist. Trying to distract the brat, I get it... Her voice now mimicked the highbrow tone of one of the Jehovah temple schoolmarms who’d brought her up as she added, “assuredly and posolutely, I was fostered well with education! And how may I assist with thy query, hmm?”

The small crowd of raiders laughed. Free entertainment for all on this drizzly Wednesday evening, in a world without computers, phones, or television.

Q-Tip asked: “Is it: ‘No you isn’t?’ … Or ‘no you ain’t?' … Which is the right way to say it?’”

Taneesha Jones, encased within the abrasive guise of a Maryland outlaw, couldn’t help but chuckle. “Oh lawd. Seriously?”

“WELL?” the brat demanded.

The Festive Camp raiders fell silent, watching. One dude definitively slapped a bottle cap upon a nearby table, making it obvious he was placing a bet. Another guy joined, tossed a cap of his own. Though none of them knew Miss Vicious from Eve, somehow they trusted she’d reveal the correct answer. Perhaps it was the fact she wasn’t from Jersey, New Yawk, or Philly. Her voice had a different accent; perhaps they could sense she’d been raised in more of a cultured environment.

“Well, I am saddened to disappoint the both of you, I’m afraid. It’s: ‘No you aren’t.’ Not ‘no you isn’t’ or ‘no you ain’t’.”

Silence followed. A fly buzzed around, somewhere nearby. A gunshot could be heard from across the river, approximately a half-mile or so away. The two raiders who’d placed their bets were suddenly confused; neither of them had mentioned odds on either side of the argument! - Even if they had, Taneesha’s answer hadn’t taken either side.

“Wait…so is that…”

“Aren’t?.... But how’s that…”

“I ain’t never heard nobody speak like that…”

…the raiders mumbled, scratching heads, rubbing chins. After a few seconds they began to wander, losing interest. Q-Tip winked a second time at Miss Vicious, mission accomplished, while Bratty’s face betrayed absolute bewilderment.

“Here, wanna cig, brat?” Vicious asked.

“Cigs? Oh yeah. Cigs.” The brat seemed dazed. Whoever she’d shot at a few minutes ago was hopefully gone by now.

“Hell, take the whole damn pack. Thinking I might outright quit once we get to River City.”

“Quit? Is you serious?” one of the locals mused. “Well, damn. Good luck widdat, honey!”

The moment passed, thank the heavens. As Bratty forgot about the fellow who’d promised her half a pack from Dukov’s, Miss Vicious mused upon the vision she’d been having, before being awoken.

“Damn!”

It had all been so real, that double date to the Overlook! Her very own Georgetown apartment, which she’d diligently worked an office job 9 to 5 to maintain. Brenda with that garish dude in the backseat, chucking spent butts at other cars. The traffic they’d cruised by on their way to the movies. The Bladdillac’s eight mini-reactors, sizzling underneath the car’s massive hood. Where would it have led, had she not been so rudely awakened?

Speaking of rude awakenings, seems as though the night’s next argumentative moment is quickly brewing. And once again, Vicious and her smarty brain are being called to solve it.

“YO VICIOUS!”


—-----------

Vicious fires her Blamhammer

Bratty

Q-tip

Talon Company Down!

Super Mutant Ragdoll'd

Overlook Drive-In (in the game, of course).

--------------------------------------

Notes: This is my least ambitious piece of writing, it's just not one of my favorites. You wouldn't think it went through four or five drafts, as I struggled to get my gaming computer running again!

Well, I thought it was a hoot! Dreaming of a gropefest at the drive-in, then being rudely wakened to play grammar cop to the grammarless, thereby distracting the easily distracted.

Acadian: if you look at the Talon Company pic, far in the distance you can see Washington Monument! Also notice, it's missing huge chunks of whatever it was made of, presumably it got hit by bombs.

Part of the humor of Fallout 3 is how some buildings survived the war totally intact, or nearly intact. Others are just rubble! Funny how the actual famous sites we're familiar with survived, more or less!

Miss Pre-War V tooling along in her Pink Bladillac! And her nice dream was of course cut short by Bratty being herself, and starting a fight with the other Raiders.

What looked like a potentially fatal encounter seems to have taken a rather humorous turn, as Q-Tip tries to diffuse the situation with grammar.

OTOH, I do not think Bratty is going to manage where they are going. Miss V can clearly transition back and forth between Raider life and Settler society. Q-Tip seems clever enough to be able to do the same as well. But not the Brat. At best I foresee a lot of time spent in the Rivet City slammer in her future.

I forgot to add the Love Shack "it's as big as a whale" line when referring to the Bladdilac. "Gonna set sail for the Overlook..."

Rivet City slammer, ha ha! Actually, I found myself entirely surprised while going for a walk a few days ago. Because the story took an entirely different turn in my mind, which meant I had to rewrite a bunch of material.



Episode 57: Talk to the Hand

Date: Wednesday, September 26, 2277

Location: approaching Rivet City





The party roves roughly southeast, walking upon what was once an elegant riverside promenade populated by tourists, residents, and joggers, as well as government agents pretending to be tourists, residents, and joggers. Well, the promenade isn't elegant anymore, nor is it entirely safe! -- Vicious, Bratty, and Q-Tip encountered a campful of super mutants; massive humanoid freaks of FEV (Forced Evolutionary Virus) just a few minutes ago. Combatted them, and ultimately defeated them. The fight wasn’t easy, but at least it is over.

Across the Potomac River stands the Jefferson Memorial, the massive foundation dedicated to America’s third president. The sight is not as stunning as it should be; its stonework is dingy gray, rather than the brilliant white marble Taneesha had seen in picture books from the past. Gigantic rust-colored tubes stick out of the ground the memorial stands upon. But still, it's amazing the place still stands, thinks she. The monument survived the bombs and the Great War, while countless other buildings in the area were reduced to rubble.

Seeing the site in person, Miss Jones now has a desire to visit the memorial. Might be fun to play ‘tourist for a day’ once they get situated in their new home. As long as they prepare for the trip with guns and bombs, of course!

... But... let's actually get to Rivet City first, okay?

.... Because by this point it is 3:30 in the afternoon according to her handheld Pip Boy 2500. And unfortunately, Bratty isn't just living up to her name, she's becoming more and more belligerent as they walk.

"YO, IZZ WE THERE YET?!" ... "HEY VISSHIOUS! When're we gonna GET to RIVER SH!TTY?"
... "YO, think I LOZT MY CIGS! Yo, Q, you GOT my CIGS?"

Yeah.

The day began with her refusing to get out of bed, and has gone mostly downhill from there. Like an entitled rock star, Bratty was trying to sleep as far into the morning as possible, even though they'd talked about this, talked about how important it'd be to get to the city while it's still daylight. Rivet City does not stay open throughout the night (according to what Vicious had been told), which is a safety precaution its guards enforce.

"*Snit*, Vishious!" Miss Bratty screams. "Why we walkin' so damn FAST!?" - Good thing nobody else is around now that the mutants are down. Last thing they'll need is for the brat's racket to attract the wrong sort of attention.

"C'mon honey, calm the *truck* down," Q-tip attempts to placate, acting as the party's peacekeeper while Vicious struggles for patience.

Miss Bratty had stayed up well into the night, boozing and chemming and generally maintaining the raider lifestyle, because such recalcitrance is all she knows.

She started breakfast with a bottle of Dukov's Homebrewed Beer (apparently, the whorehouse has its very own distillery) and has continued to imbibe up 'til now. After defeating the mutants, Bratty 'celebrated' with a syringeful of Psycho for instance, making her jittery and impatient. To counter this, she then smoked a blunt of Sativex, the Wasteland's mutated marijuana, making the brat delusional and paranoid, so she began sipping some whisky. After all these substances, her coordination's become that of an old drunkard. Never mind her loudness; she's hardly able to walk a straight line. How are the citizens of Rivet City going to accept such a wasteoid?

"Visshious!!! Gimme .... another ...CIG!!"

Miss Vicious does her best to ignore. “Hey, is that Rivet City?” she asks Q as they peer what looks to be a gigantic formation up ahead, melding out of the gloom.

"Yeah, looks to be so," says Q. "This gunna be fun!" he adds with a smirk. "What you think, brat?"

(Bratty's reply to Q-tip's question was so full of cussing, cursing, and swearing it's been removed from the program by Spike TV's censors, lest the network's advertizers drop their support of Miss Vicious.)

Rivet City indeed looms closer as they approach, massive and ominous. The city is just as much of a stupefying sight to view as Jefferson’s dedication across the river, even if it’s not as stately.

Once a warship which carried aircraft and soldiers to foreign destinations all over the Seven Seas, now it’s home to several hundred residents, from what the approaching trio has heard. The actual ship had broken into two halves at some point, and therefore its sailing days are done. But it’s a safe, secure place to live; perhaps better than Tenpenny Tower, or so the group has heard. Rivet City wouldn’t be packed with pretentious, pompous plebeians, prancing about its halls and rooms in high society, acting as though the glory days of 1950s America are still occurring. Snobs and debutantes whose main worries might be how long is the line for a cappuccino at Café Beau Monde this morning? Or which style of haircut would enhance their countenance best, at whatever upcoming soirée?

From what Taneesha had been told, Rivet City’s inhabitants would’ve been considered as ‘working class’ residents in olden days. Unassuming types toiling ‘blue collar’ jobs, who didn’t much care about dress or décor like the upper classes, mostly because they were too busy surviving day to day.

Main concern for the residents of Rivet City? Keeping their ship free of danger. Taneesha wonders though; would an entire segment of America’s population go around wearing clothes with blue collars if they were poor, and white collars if they had money?

As the trio of raiders nears the ship/city, another question within Miss Jones’s mind: how do we actually get on? – Will we need to swim? – The answer quickly becomes obvious. A large, two-part ramp had been constructed at some point, which leads from the riverside walk to what looks to be a bridge. And the bridge leads to the ginormous boat. A rusted metal sign saying Rivet City stands at the foot of the ramp.

Now. Now is the moment to leave their old lives behind.

“Alright Q, here goes. Time to suit down,” Miss Vicious says, unable to hide a certain nervousness within her voice.

“Huh? Whatchoo mean?” Q-tip asks.

“Ha-hah! Wha shoe MEAN?” the brat slurs as she struggles to stand upright.

“What I mean? Really?!” Here we go. “Come on now. Did we not discuss this?”

Q-tip and Bratty stare at their friend, looking a bit clueless. Well, the brat is already 'suited down'; she's still wearing the outfit taken from Lucy West's place, but Vicious is currently wearing raider armor, and so is Q.

"We can’t go up there wearing raider gear, like some dumbass fool outlaws!" Vicious explains. "They'll be fixing to shoot the *snit* at us before we’s halfway across that bridge! C’mon now…” she says, hands in the air. "Like, why am I needing to even explain this?"

Vicious doesn't wait for an answer. Takes a look into her Feebok® bag, and selects what looks to be the most presentable Prewar outfit she’s got: a sports top/cargo pants combination. She then steps behind a large partition (modesty still counts for something, even out here...) and swaps clothes.

--Miss Vicious, effectively gone for good in her mind. Now she’s back to being the person she’s been from birth: Taneesha Jones. For good.

She hesitates a bit –what to do with my raider gear? – In the end she decides to keep it. Shoves her badlands armor into the bag. Because for instance: she’s already fantasizing about visiting Jefferson Memorial, not to mention the actual District of Columbia itself. What would happen when encountering a group from her past, which'll no doubt occur at some point?

Roiling a nic-fit by now, Taneesha lights a cig.





“Oh my gawd!” she says incredulously, stepping back round the partition. “What is going on with you, Q?” Her supposed boyfriend hadn’t changed his attire.

“Well, I … uh.. Well I…”

Taneesha’s eyes bulge. She makes a motion with her hands: out with it!

“I … Well to be honest, I …"

"Yes???"

"Well, I didn’t think we’d get this far,” he stammers. “Really, I was thinkin’ like, maybe you was joking about this whole trip and all. Like it’s just some huge caper. Like for fun, ya know?"

"For fun?"

"Yea. Like we’s on a heck of a raid, the grandest grandmamma of all raids! Goin’ in there, stealing and fighting and all that. Comin’ out with some spoils of war. Lotsa caps! A thousand caps each, rather than maybe a dozen.”

“You must be joking.”

“You think she joking?” Bratty accuses Q, too bombed to properly follow.

“So, we not here on a raid or a caper?" asks the tip. He gazes at Taneesha a moment, mindful of the glare upon her face.

It is at this very moment when thunk! Miss Bratty the brat collapses. Falls right to the ground, due to all the garbage within her system.

“This is it, dude," Taneesha says, ignoring the fallen brat. "We’re here. And I’m getting on that ship. I am here to start afresh, not to bust heads or pilfer or terrorize. You wanna live the rest of your life a hoodlum? Go right ahead.” After a moment of stunned silence, she adds: “Gonna get clean, too. Gonna lead a healthy lifestyle, now on. Going to get off the chems," she says solemnly. "No more Psycho, no more Med-X, no more morphine, no more hooch or beer. And no more cigs…”

“Whoa, whoa... Huh?” asks Bratty, somehow yanking herself off the ground. “No more cigs? No more chems?”

Taneesha sighs. “Again, we discussed this, brat, although you prob'ly don't remember. We was both pretty tore up at the time, I'll give you that.”

“S… so what does that MEAN?”

“Like I said,” she explains to her Jersey raider friend. “I am giving up the following: cigarettes, chems, and alcohol. Gonna have one last drag of a smoke up there on the bridge,” says she, pointing vaguely upward. “After that, I’m going to start a clean, healthy lifestyle. So's I don't wind up dead or sick, come the age of thirty.”

“Hey! You never said anything about giving up all that!” The brat, suddenly sobered.

“Well look,” says Taneesha. “You wanna carry on like you are, partying all night and sleeping all day in there,” she says, pointing again. “Go ahead. Not like I can force you to change your ways, hon. But don't be tryin' to do all that by my side, okay? I wanna live, grow old and gray if I can, maybe have a family some day. So guess what? My doping days are over.”

The trio argues back and forth several times until it finally becomes obvious no one's changing his or her mind. By then, Q and Bratty had both decided they actually don't want to board Rivet City. So Taneesha feels the time has come. Enough of this bull. She begins striding up the ramp.

"*Truck* y'all then, I am gone."

“But wait. Dayum. Can't we just…like, talk about…” Q's voice pleads.

“No, bye!” says Taneesha. Clomp, clomp, clomp...

"But Tan, youse can't just...."

“BYE! Talk to the hand, brat.” ...clomp, clomp, clomp...

To Taneesha's surprise, Bratty begins sobbing from somewhere below, loud and obvious like a spoiled child, living up to her namesake one last time. "But Vicious! Ain't we gonna--"

“No, we ain't gonna,” Taneesha replies, turning to face them. "Was found all alone as a child, by a group of adults who took me in. They all got killed, folks who raised me got killed by the likes of you all. *Bunghole* raiders, killed my elders, and was prob'ly gonna kill me too. But y'all took me in," she gestures, 'cause I played it right. Acted a part, guess that's how I'll put it. Y'all took me in, got me high as *kit*, to the point I forgot all about my past.

"And now here I am. Gonna be alone once more. But, gotta do it,” she tells them. “Gotta try, at least.”

Taneesha thinks she might have something else to say, but it seems they've gotten the point. Bratty is outright wailing by now, which causes a nearby brahmin merchant and his guard to take notice. Taneesha sheds a few tears herself. Finally, Q-tip shrugs. Puts his arm around the brat's shoulder.

"C'mon brat," he says, putting an arm around her shoulder. "Don't worry, girl; she'll be back. They always come back, don't they? And so will our Vicious," Q attempts to console. "Give'r a week, I say. She ain't back widd us in a week, we comin' back to find her. Buncha us raiders, come back as a group, heh. But she ain't really stayin' on that ship. Give 'er a week, brat. Maybe coupl'a days. That's what I say."

Q-tip and Bratty begin walking away.

"*Cluck* y'all then," Taneesha Jones mutters quietly. "Time to start my new life."

As she watches them vacate her presence, Tan reaches for her pack of cigs, involuntarily; habits do die hard. Then, she changes her mind. Tosses the pack upwards, hacky-sack's it off her shoe, then crushes it onto the sidewalk.



—----------------------

Jefferson Memorial

Vicious doghouses Q-tip

Bratty passes out! - (I used a quest script to SetAV her Fatigue -50, ha ha)

Bratty's wasted perspective

Bratty sobs

Bye Bye Brat

------------------------

Notes: Toward the end of the previous chapter I subtly switched from past tense to present tense. Chances are the rest of this season will be told from present tense, just for that more immediate impact.