Let's Play: Fallout 3

[Krylo]

An Ant Can't Move a Rubber Tree PlantI look down at the kid. "Alright alright, I ain't gonna leave, kid."

"R-really?" he asks coming to his feet, slowly, hope moving back into him.

Reaching up to scratch the back of my head I let out an unintentional annoyed grunt. I hate myself for this. Life would be so much easier if I didn't have a damned conscious. "Ugh. . . yes. I'm sure. Just going to risk my life for some kid I do--whatever, listen, do you have any place safe to go?"



"Dad always said to stay outta them things, but I guess it's safe. . . ish. I hope. . ."

I nod, barely listening to him, and mumble something that's probably similar to 'sounds good' or 'yeah, go hide there'. I have no idea. Still too caught up in wondering why I'm even doing this, and the kid starts to head out, but stops after a few steps and turns back, pulling out a key and tossing it to me.

"I dunno if it'll help, but papa hid a buncha stuff in an old dumpster behind the Diner. Thanks miss!" He yells before heading off. I sigh and soldier on.



"What is. . ."

I squint my eyes to get a closer look. . .




Christ, it's even bigger than I thought!





The Rattatatat of the automatic rifle comes in tune with the 'Nopenopenopes' echoing through my head, until the creature is nothing but a pile of exoskeleton and gore.

Tough bastard, took a lot of ammo, but range kills.




. . .Excellent welcoming committee you've got.

I decide to move slow, take my time. The kid said monsters, not monster, right?

Turns out that's a good idea.















I have no idea how many I kill before I even get to the damned dumpster the kid was talking about.

Speaking of which. . .




Nothing but an old 10mm and a couple of rounds. Yeah, this is in the 'not going to help' category kid. Sorry.

I turn and look back out toward the town and try to find his house, when I hear Dogmeat growl and run off. A moment later, as I move to follow him, I hear something. . . else. Like a flamethr--





Holy christ, they can breath fire!

I stumble back for a second, but my dog is in there, and I quickly regain my composure. . .




The aim is tricky, between the fire and Dogmeat trying to bite its face off, but in the end the fire goes out as rounds shater through its insectoid skull. . . and Dogmeat comes running up to me wagging his tail, only slightly singed.

Jesus Christ, dog. I'm glad you're on my side.


After that I kill countless more. Not worth recounting the battles. I shoot from distance, and they die before they realize I'm there. One. After. Another. Pretty sure I've cleared the whole town by the time I realize I was standing right next to the kid's house when I was at the Diner.




And it's such a nice place, too. Well let's head in. . .







. . .At least I can tell the kid his dad put up a good fight.




And his dad wouldn't be needing this anymore. Guns and ammo, the only true currency of the wasteland--don't let the bottlecaps throw you off.

Well, guess I better go. . . and. . . tell him. . .

Hate myself even more now.




I take a deep breath and hold it for a moment, calming my nerves before giving the old mini-shelter a kick to get it
open.





Kid can read it on my face before I even open my mouth. Or maybe he already knew before he asked for help. How couldn't he? If those things were tearing up his house when he left, he had to have known this wasn't going to have a happy ending--but I can't blame him for hoping.

. . .I doubt my story's going to have one either.

Sigh, lean the assault rifle on my shoulder, and tell it like it is. "Your dad's ant food, kid. Sorry."

He. . . doesn't take it well. Calls me an asshole. Probably deserve it. Probably could have worded that better. Plus, he needs something to hate. Guess it doesn't matter who it is, anyway I did my job.

I turn and start to walk away when I hear sobbing, I look back. . .




. . .and sigh again.

"Listen, kid, I'm gonna go find where these things came from, and take care of this, alright, so you just. . ." I trail off, there's really nothing to say. What am I going to do? Tell him to buck up? That everything's going to be okay?

Ain't nothing going to be okay out here, and I know it. And he knows it.

All the same, it seems to brighten him up, "You gotta stop it so it can't happen to anyone else's family ever again!"

He stops, and his lips tremble as he stares at the ground before continuing, sounding weak. "I. . . wish I had met you a long time ago, then maybe my dad would still be alive. . ." I try not to let it get to me as he swallows back his tears and looks up, "Thanks. . . thanks for doing this. . . I'm feeling better now that you're he--"

I can't take it anymore and cut him off, "Yeah yeah right, whatever kid, just tell me if you got any idea where to start?"

He nods and points at the shack next to the house. "Was a scientist living in there. He gone disappeared when the monsters showed up. . . said he was gonna stop it. Somethin' about a miscalculation. . . maybe he knows something?"

I nod, and smack the side of the shelter, causing the door to slide closed. "You just stay in here where it's safe until I come back, alright kiddo?"

The muffled sounds from inside sound like an affirmative. . .




and I head over to check out the shack.




Well, definitely some kind of scientist staying here. I take a look around. . .

Hot plates, beakers, looks like a child's chemistry set. And a recording.



"Note to self," comes a nassaly voice. "Computer Password is Solenopsis. You think I could remember THAT. . ."

Wonderful security, doctor.




I try the first two. They both say he's out of range.

Oh well, let's see what kind of notes the good doctor has left me.










. . .Wonderful, a mad scientist.

Seems he's got a lot of blood on his hands. Well, at least now I know where I'm going.




Marigold Station.

“Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more; Or close the wall up with our English dead! In peace there's nothing so becomes a man as modest stillness and humility: But when the blast of war blows in our ears, then imitate the action of the tiger.”


I don't know where that thought came from, and shake it from my head, before shouldering the assault rifle and heading, well, unto the breach.




It's dark. Hard to see much, and some of the tunnels seem to have collapsed.

Reminds me of home.




Ant infestation aside, but



I can



take care of that.



Another victim of the ants?

I grab the recording and pop it in.

"If you're listening to this tape, then my brains are splattered all over a wall somewhere and you've got a job to do.

You need to retrieve the package and get it safely to Ronald Laren in Girdershade. Tell him Grady sent you.

To get the package, you'll need the key. I've stashed it inside an old fire hose case in some maintenance closet in Marigold Metro Station.

The key will unlock the safe that contains the package. Look for the room marked by a spinning light... you can't miss it.

Good luck, and hopefully they won't find you too."

. . .Huh. Nothing to do with the ants. Wrong place, wrong time, judging by the singed and flesh stripped skeleton.

Well, I'll have to keep that in mind.

I head further into the station. . .



And the path splits. After a moment I decide to go left.



More bugs.

But they still aren't very observant, though this one seems to have a pretty tough carapace. Takes a few shots to crack its skull.



Huh, a working Nuka-cola machine. I rifle butt the locking mechanism and grab myself a crisp cold soda. Refreshing.

And, more importantly, as my eyes move over to the lockers, I notice a 10mm pistol with a silencer attached, that I quickly slip into my coat.



Looks like an exit. . . I'll have to remember this place, I think, as I reload my rifle after blasting another couple of ants apart.

But for now, I'm not quite done here yet.

. . . Still haven't found that scientist.



Red spinning light. Huh. Don't have that key, but let's take a look. . .



Locks are for ch--wait. . .



Seriously?

. . .Well, I don't have a whole lot in the way of pajamas, and I guess there was someone who seemed to be willing to pay for this, so guess I'll pocket it.

. . . And some ammo

. . . and that rotating saw knife sitting on the shelf.


But as I turn to leave. . .




I just. . . stare at him for a moment, before starting to laugh. It's just, too ridiculous. Too, too ridiculous.

Of course, that makes him angry and he pulls up his rifle, and things get real serious real fast.







Well. . . not THAT serious.

He was way too slow to be threatening me.

I shrug and glance out in the hall, and to my surprise, and relief, I don't see anything, or one, coming. Ants must be half-deaf.



Still managed to claim a lot of victims, though.

I let out a soft sight as I check him over for salvage. Find a key, but I've got no idea what it's for, and some ammo. Nothing worth my time.

Continuing on my way I round a corner. . .



"Shit!"

My hand moves to my new friend, and the chainblade is out and smashed directly into the thing's forehead before I know what I'm doing. Blood and viscera is thrown everywhere, but the beast crumbles before it can so much as twitch.

I breath out long and slow, resting against a wall for a moment, before starting to move forward. Gotta be more careful. Damn things can breath fire. That could have been the end for me.

Maybe I should just g--



I barely stop myself from firing as the door slides open and a man in a labcoat appears in front of me.



"You really mustn't creep up on people like that!" I recognize the nasally, arrogant sounding voice. It's the scientist who recorded his password.

"What are you doing down here?" I ask, not quite wanting to let on what I know.

"Well, I might ask you the same thing. You're trampling about in a delicately balanced and highly sensitive experimental area."

I glance back behind me, and then behind him. "Yeah, delicately balanced and highly sensitive." The sarcasm is obvious.

He gets defensive, crossing his arms over his chest.



"Uh huh. So what 'experiments' are you up to down in this pit?" I ask, conversationally, shouldering the assault rifle for the time being. I already have a pretty good idea, but I'd like to hear it from him.

"My experiments are of a complex nature and would take a scientist to expl--oh wait! I'm a scientist! How marvelous!"

And then he prattles on for five minutes about how he was trying to reduce the size of the giant ants. After a moment he asks if it's clever.

I stare at him dead eyed for a moment. "You injected ant eggs and now they breath fire. No. It's not clever. You're an idiot, and you should have started in a more controlled environment."

He sighs, and his voice wavers a little bit. Guilt, maybe?



"To correct this mistake I'll need to get to my terminal in the hatchery to modify the mutagen. It should be right next to the Queen. If I can reach it it, I can continue to work on improving the mutagen!"

"So. . . how, exactly, is that going to 'fix your mistake', assuming you mean the giant fire breathing ants murdering people."

"Well I've rigged the equipment at my portable terminal to emit what I call an 'Inhibitor Pulse.' Once I set it off, it will destroy the empathic link with the ant queen, and the workers will go mad, murdering each other in the process! Oh, quite marvelooouss."

Ugh, the way he says marvelous is just. . . "Why not just kill the queen?"




"What I need help with is eliminating what I call her quintent of Nest Guardians. Filthy little abominations!"

He prattles on a bit more until I agree to kill them for him. In exchange for money and. . . some kind of bioenhancer that he assures me is perfectly safe. Make me strong like ant.



Well, here we go. . .




Makes the rest of the subway system look bright. Can't see anything ye--



Wait, what was that?

. . .Well let's see how he likes this





WHY DO EXPLOSIONS NOT KILL ANYTHING! It landed on his face, for god s--

Fuck it.

I whip out my assault rifle as Dogmeat runs into its firebreath to rip its throat out.



And I swear my dog is actually a small god. He's on fire and not even bothered. All the same I run over and pat him down, and inject a stim to take care of the burns.

He just wags his tail happily. I don't even know.



I come around another corner and one is right there. I hear Dogmeat growl as I pull out the chainblade. . .









Christ, took forever to cut through him. I can see why the Doctor was having issues.

I shake out my arms and put the chainblade away, pulling out my rifle again. Better to shoot than to stab, after all.

It isn't long before I come to the top of a slope.

Two more down there. I start to line up a sh--



Jesus, Dogmeat!

I line up my shot a bit more quickly, and blow off one of their antennas. The ants turn on each other as Dogmeat goes in on the attack.




They tear each other apart, with a little help.


Well, there's the guardians. . . now the doctor said to leave the queen be, but, on the other hand, fuck the doctor.



Jesus she's ugly. I can see the robot and work station to the right, though, so before anything else. . .



Not sure if there were any ants even left alive for that to affect, but better safe than sorry.



And just to make sure no one else gets any ideas after I'm gone.

Now, to take care of business. . .



I run in and jam the chainblade against her thorax, but it merely starts to smoke and grind, so I shut it off, and slide it back into a pocket, as she turns to face me. . .




And pull out my sawed off shotgun, slapping a few shells in place.



The blast blows out a chunk of her face but she's still coming for me, and starts a charge, green ichor that smokes and bubbles dropping from her mouth as I pull out another shot.



Her head explodes into chunks of ant meat, and her mass finally drops, quivering and useless, to the ground.

And just to be thorough. . .



I put a few rounds of 14mm ammo into the protectron's head, until it explodes.

I take a few moments to reload, and check over my guns before I head back upstairs to the doctor.



"I did your job."

"Oh, Marvelous, please tell me what happened!" he asks excited and giddy. Well, I can't exactly do that as I want my pay. . .

"Uh, I shot ants and they died?"

"Well, that's quite. . . succinct. Well, so long as you've done y--" he says turning toward the door.

"Hey hey, Doctor, I believe we had a deal?" I ask, putting a hand on his shoulder. He turns back to face me.

"Oh of course, of course, here, let me just go and get the injector ready. . ." he wanders off to the side and pulls out a small hypodermic needle and wanders back over. "Now just stand still. You shouldn't feel anything more than a little prick. . ." he trails off as he sets it against my neck and injects the mixture.

"I don't feel any different. . ." I mention.

"Well of course not, it takes time for new muscle tissue to build. You should start noticing a difference in muscle mass and strength in a couple of days. Quite quick for such a formula, now if you'll excuse me, I must go take care of this ant problem. . ."

He turns and heads for the door. I follow him a few steps, and run things through my head.

Wilks crying.

His father dead on the ground.

Even Grady and that guy in the hallway.

And who knows how many others in Grayditch. Blood on his hands, and he has no intention of stopping these experiments.



"Doctor?" I call out, as I raise the gun to my shoulder.

"Ye--"

His answer is cut off in a hail of automatic gunfire that splatters his brains across the tunnel. I don't even bother looking at him before I turn away.

The trip back to town is quiet. No more ants. Only me and the weight of my sin, as I travel the dark corridors, and it isn't long before I see the light at the end of the tunnel.



Literally.

I stop for a few moments before leaving, however.

I just killed a man. Not that he's the first. I've killed lots of men since the vault went crazy.

Seen so much blood.

Not even my first time killing someone who couldn't defend himself. That Ian kid. . . but he was hardly human. Maybe that's what's bothering me.

The doctor did a terrible thing, but it was a mistake, and he did show remorse. He did want to fix it. But even so, he needed to be put down. I did. . . what was right?

Didn't I?

"The den of murderers is the Courthouse.”

. . .I take a deep breath and try to ignore the foreign thought and guilt echoing in my head as I push out into the wasteland. Into Greyditch.



Looks like I've been down there most of the day.

Guess I should find the kid. . .



Still where I left him, and talking to himself. With a kick the thing slides open, and Wilks starts talking as soon as he sees me.



"It was like they were totally crazy! It was really scary, but kinda cool at the same time, ya know what I mean?"

"Yeah, that was me," I reply, as I put the barrel of my assault rifle into the ground and lean on it, feeling a little drained.

The kid picks up on it, he seems sharp. "I wish I had something to give you for all the work you did, but I never really had much to start with. . ." He trails off, and lets out a little sigh as if he just realized exactly how fucked he still is.

"I guess now yo'll be on your way and I'll have to try living here by myself. . ." he perks up a little, though and looks up at me. "I hope you'll come back and visit someday."

"Yeah, sure. I'll stop by if I have time, and don't end up dead out there," I reply, a little non-committally.



This time he doesn't seem to pick up on it, though. Or maybe he just forces himself to ignore it.

Whatever.



Time to find out if I need to bury my own dad.


---------- Post added at 01:38 AM ---------- Previous post was at 01:36 AM ----------

Also, comments would be nice. Preferably at least one per update to break up posts to make sure they don't get auto-merged (for the link list at the start).

Also to know if anyone even gives a shit to read this anymore.

I went through a lot of work restoring all the old screenshots (replaying up to this point), and what not. Would like to know if it's worth it.

Suggestions are also welcome, but I quit the first time 'cause I was having trouble creating a decent story while taking suggestions (and moved some events around to fix that), so I'm not going to guarantee I'll take them.

But I might.