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Unread 12-14-2013, 02:38 AM   #311
Krylo
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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.
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Unread 12-14-2013, 02:59 AM   #312
tacticslion
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tacticslion bakes the most delicious cookies you've ever tasted. tacticslion bakes the most delicious cookies you've ever tasted. tacticslion bakes the most delicious cookies you've ever tasted. tacticslion bakes the most delicious cookies you've ever tasted. tacticslion bakes the most delicious cookies you've ever tasted. tacticslion bakes the most delicious cookies you've ever tasted.
RPGs and Tabletops You, sir, own.

This rocks and so do you. Sooooo happy to see this again!
I officially rescind all hatred in your direction.

She should totally start heading toward redemption and building up good karma!
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Unread 12-15-2013, 12:35 AM   #313
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Aerozord would dive into a lake to save a drowning girl from a sinking car, without even stopping to think about how dangerous it was. Aerozord would dive into a lake to save a drowning girl from a sinking car, without even stopping to think about how dangerous it was. Aerozord would dive into a lake to save a drowning girl from a sinking car, without even stopping to think about how dangerous it was. Aerozord would dive into a lake to save a drowning girl from a sinking car, without even stopping to think about how dangerous it was. Aerozord would dive into a lake to save a drowning girl from a sinking car, without even stopping to think about how dangerous it was. Aerozord would dive into a lake to save a drowning girl from a sinking car, without even stopping to think about how dangerous it was. Aerozord would dive into a lake to save a drowning girl from a sinking car, without even stopping to think about how dangerous it was. Aerozord would dive into a lake to save a drowning girl from a sinking car, without even stopping to think about how dangerous it was. Aerozord would dive into a lake to save a drowning girl from a sinking car, without even stopping to think about how dangerous it was.
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Well I'm reading them I assure you. It reminds me of the advantages of the old style of lets plays and the creative freedom it allows
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Unread 12-15-2013, 05:54 AM   #314
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If You Kill the Brain, Then You Kill the Ghoul

I stare out over the wasteland for a minute, and wonder why I even care about finding my father. What am I going to do when I see him? Will it make any of this better?

Can anything fix this broken world?

I close my eyes for a moment, and think back to the Vault.




Jonas.



Mr. Brotch.



Amata.




My father.

And I let out a slow sigh. I've lost so much. Maybe. . . I just want to find some part of it to have again. Or maybe I want to punch the old man 'cause his leaving took it all. Maybe I just want something that feels like home again.

Doesn't matter, why, anyway, I decide as I shake my head, and shove my hands deep into my pockets before setting off through the dusty winds of the wasteland, and into the jagged stone of what must have once been civilization.




Pipboy says the signal is originating from across there, but of course. . .




Nothing can ever be easy.







I'm having a hard time making the shots at this distance across the water. Mostly I'm just used to close quarters skirmishes, and this old hunting rifle is held together with duct tape and prayers from what I can tell, so I sling it next to my assault rifle, and leap into the water, to swim across.

I can feel bullets whizzing through the water around me, but they can't see me clearly, and when I come up. . .





Well I was always pretty quick, and this gun makes quick and messy work out of them. However, I feel a spray of rocks on my cheek. . .




. . . shit. One's got a minigun, and the other a hunting rifle, I roll behind the tires next to me.




They don't do much to stop the bullets, but the beasts are having trouble getting a clear bead on me as I line up my own shots.





And they've got bigger heads than humans.

That split like watermelons.

I pick myself up and climb away from the river.



Metro entrance. I take a look down at my pipboy, and it seems like the old line should lead to where the signal's coming from. Hopefully they aren't collapsed.

Feel a little more comfortable traveling in tunnels than out in the open. Too exposed. Too easy to catch a bullet and not know where it's from.



These seem to be in better repair than most of the other tunnels i've been through. Lights are even working. Not sure if that's good or bad yet, though.

I head to my right and into the back rooms, to see what I can see. . .



Protectron.





Huh, and it still works. I think I've got. . .



Yeah, I pull out a metroticket I grabbed out of a box back in Marigold.



Well, that's good. Was afraid I had woken up another pain in the ass, but after scanning my ticket it just stomps out and I'm left pondering for a moment as I rummage about looking for food, caps, ammo, that kind of thing. . . Until I hear the quiet zwip of laser fire.



More of those. . . rat. . . mole. . . things. Looks like waking the thing up worked out after all. Tunnel's collapsed ahead though, but luckily. . .



I manage to find some service tunnels.



And looks like I'm heading in the right direction, as well. GNR is where I'm heading. Don't know whose symbol that is, or why a news station is an 'outpost' but it seems pretty doubtful it's a different place with the same name in the same direction, so I figure I may as well follow the arrows.



Huh? Is that? Looks like Gob? Maybe they can give me a hand.

"Hey!"

The dessicated corpses look up, drooling with nothing but madness and hunger in their eyes and I realize they're nothing like the bartender, except, perhaps, in body odor. The fetid stench of rotting meat washes over me as they run forward, the simple chain gate doing little to slow them down.



Can I pose a question?



How do you kill what is dead?



I just shoot from the hip



And I aim for the head.


I find myself humming a little as. . .

One

Two

Three

Four rounds fire off in quick succession, each blasting apart a. . . gob called himself a ghoul? These ghouls, too?

Who knows?

I holster the gun and look down at their bodies, covering my mouth and nose with my sleeve to fight back the stench. I'm handling this far too well, and that's bothering me, but maybe it shouldn't.

Maybe it's a good thing.

Freeze up or panic and I might have been torn to shreds. Maybe this cold apathy--this detachment--is necessary to keep me alive. Still, though, I know that a few months ago, back at the vault, the thought of things like this were enough to terrify me. . . but now?

And that's frightening. More frightening than they ever were.

Well, can't waste time on philosophy now. . .

I decide to take a look around and find a small office.



With a safe.



Laser Pistol, and some kind of protocol for its use, along with a simple instruction manual in their use. I decide to check on the protocol just for fun.









Pretty much common sense, though I'll admit that while I knew firing a laser in a room full of flammable gas would be a bad idea, it wasn't something I'd really thought about, but now I realize that down in these tunnels, I might be able to use a laspistol for some real anarchy.

Not that I any chance to. Looks like there's a leak above where those ghouls were, but I already killed all of them, and the rest of the tunnels seem pretty empty.



Still on the right track, though. Pipboy says I'm getting close, too.

I hear a growl, though, as I look at the sign and glance to my right.



There were two of them. Were.

Starting to run low on 14mm ammo, though.



Looks like she must have been a fresh kill. Judging by the bite marks. Also looks like they were eating her. Starting with the stomach.

I hold my breath as I pat her down and manage to find a few clips of 5.56 for my AR. Good thing, too. I was pretty much out after those damn ants. Some microfusion cells as well.

Also find laying next to her. . .



Damned things in AWFUL shape, though. The emitter arrays are entirely out of alignment, and I'm pretty sure the lens is actually cracked. It fires, but no where near at full capacity. Of course, if I can find the parts and get it working again. . . well the Lasrifle doesn't share any of the usage problems of the laspistol. The larger housing gave the designers room to put in a much more adequate focusing array and power supply. This thing can cut through steel given a second or two of concentrated fire.

Well, this one can't.

But you know, if it weren't beaten all to hell.

I'm pretty happy with this, as I sling it on my back and probably aren't paying as much attention as I should be when I hear a low rumble from behind me. I spin around.



"FUCK!"



The yell and the gunshot seems to draw attention, however, as I hear movement all around me.







My heart is pounding in my chest as the last one finally falls and I look around. Only a few bullets left. Hope I don't run into many more of the damn things.

That was too close.



Too much to ask for.

A few bullets blow them away, as well as one who was lurking in a side room, and soon I'm down to four bullets.

Let's hope I don't need them.



That's not the outline of a ghoul. That's one of those super mutants.

I'm just going to stop hoping for things, I decide as I pull out a grenade.



The blast stuns the beast for a moment, and I follow up with my old hunting rifle, putting him down without incident. Of course, the blast drew the attention of some other denizens of the undergound.





But they never see me before the bullets tear them apart and put them down.

. . . I'm really glad Mersetti doesn't have these things. Maybe they used to? Maybe the family chased them out? . . . Maybe they'll come back now that the family is gone?

. . .I really don't want to think about this. I'm going to have to figure out a way to secure the bedroom door when I'm sleeping. And sleep with a gun.



Well, I don't like being out in the open, but I'm actually kind of relieved to see the exit from the tunnels here.



I move forward cautiously, but I still hear the sound of gun fire and feel the stinging in my arm before I turn to see another pair of mutants. I start to return fire, and manage to take down one when there's a flash of red and the other goes down.



I spin toward the flash almost immediately, and I manage to get eyes on. . . is that T-51b armor? I remember some old news reels in history about Amercian GIs using it in Anchorage near the end of the war. What's it doing here?

I stand up and hop across the shifting debris, and get the attention of the armored soldiers.



"The Super Mutants have overrun our brothers at the GNR building, and we're headed there to back them up. You can tag along if you want, but keep your head down and try not to do anything. . . stupid."

She's got an attitude. I kinda like her, though. For some reason.

Besides, something about her lecture stings my pride, and we're all heading the same way. Let's see if I can contibute enough to to make her eat those words.





Blundered? Really? Alright then, it's on.



One down. . . and that's it for the 14mm.



I switch off for the lasrifle for the mutant in the window. I can barely see him. . . and the laser rifle is barely focusing a beam. I'm pretty sure I score some burns on him before he goes down, but it's pretty much useless, like I had figured.



Laspistol doesn't do much better, but I do manage to burn a hole in a super mutant's skull after a few blasts.



Manage to take out the one above with it as well. The beams aren't very high intensity, but this one was actually in pretty good condition so the focusing is good, and I can place them pretty well. Weird to be firing a pistol without any kick to it, but that really just makes the aiming a little easier.



Even if it does take ten or more shots to put any of these things down.

Only reason I'm getting so many down is because I'm out ahead of most of the squad. And I seem to have a quicker draw.




Eventually we reach the courtyard of the GNR building, and have the Muties pincered between the power armor wearing squad at my back, and the ones guarding the building itself.

I quickly pick out the leader and pull out my shotgun, rolling through the bullets from the mutants and red hot lances of super heated light from the men and women behind me.





He goes down and I step on the barrel of his gun, using his arm as a lever to flip it up into my hands, still loaded. I spin around to face the rest of the mutants. . .



And find the area's clear.

One of the recruits fires a few rounds in the air, and another man tells her to calm down and stop wasting ammo.

"Aw, come on. We just kicked their asses!"

"We need to make a sweep. You head over there, and I'll check over here. We'll celebrate once we're inside."

"Damn right we will!"

She says as they split apart.

WHUMP!



I turn in the direction of the noise. What the hell was that?



WHUMP WHUMP!

It's coming from the direction the less experienced soldier is heading. Doesn't she hear it? Doesn't anyone else?

I reach up a hand to call her back over when . . .



A piece of truck flies past my head.

"BEHEMOTH!" The voice is coming from behind me. Sounds like the lady leader.



Jesus! It's huge!

Somebody shouts something about a fatman, but I'm not hearing anything but my blood pumping in my ears.



The gun rattles in my hands as I slap in magazine after magazine.



Until I'm out, and it's charging right toward me. The assault rifle hits the ground, and the chainblade comes out.

I duck under its giant club, the air swishes past me and run and jump in, the blade finds flesh, and gore sprays out of the beast's stomach. I can hear laser fire sizzling against its body around me, as it reaches an arm down to swipe me off.

I jam my free hand into the wound I've created to keep myself from falling and spin, slicing off two fingers before jamming the blade back into its chest. It starts to fall and I tumble off backwards.



. . .It's not moving anymore.

I can hear the woman leader speaking behind me. "It's not your fault Vargas. . ." sounds like she's comforting the man who ordered the new girl to check this side.

I don't really listen, sliding my chainblade back, but I turn around when I feel a hand on my shoulder.



Then she cracks a smile and laughs. "Though I haven't seen anyone that damn crazy in awhile!"

With a cough she returns to business, "Anyway, area's secure, so you're free to head in if you need."

I nod. "Yeah. Thanks. Hey, what's your name, anyway?"

"Sentinel Lyons, leader of Lyon's Pride," she replies with not a small amount of pride. Makes sense given the troop name.

I nod. "Good to meet you Lyons. . . and, sorry about. . ."

"Initiate Reddin," she nods at me. "She died well," her tone of voice says she's grateful for the sentiment even if she's putting on a strong face. "And in the end, that's all that matters."

I just nod and excuse myself to head inside



Nice place. Probably seen better days.

I hear someone tell me Three Dog is upstairs, so I head up. He's the one Dad went to see, after all.



“With his grim, grisly dog that keeps the door, are senseless stories, idle tales, dreams, whimsies, and no more.”

Before I can ponder where that came from, or what it means, the man starts to speak.




"I am Three Dog: Jockey of discs and teller of truths. Lord and master over the finest radio station to grace the Wastes. Galaxy News Radio. And you, well. . . I know who you are. Heard about you leavin that Vault, travelin' the unknown. Just like dear old Dad, hmm? Met him already. . ."

Well, looks like whatever part of me dredged up that old quote had this guy pegged, but how the hell does he know about me? I don't ask that, though. I'm not sure I even want to know.

". . .Couldn't have just said hi and let us get down to business?"

"Hey, when you're in the Good Fight, you gotta give it all you got and never ever hold back." I try my best not to roll my eyes. Not sure I succeeded but he doesn't seem to notice either way, continuing on with his unnecessary chatter, about dazzle, and razzle, and spreading things (words I think. . . hope).

"Yeah, listen, I'm just trying to find my dad, so if we could maybe just get down to that?"

He sombers up a bit before replying, "Listen, I'd like to share, I really really would, but if I help you, and you just leave me hangin'. . . I would have failed the Fight, and that can't happen. Dig?"

Nothing in this world is free. "Fine, what do you need?"

"Galaxy News Radio is my baby. I love it, I feed i--"

"No. No more of that. I don't care. Just. Tell. Me. What. You. Need." I'm glaring at him as I say it, and that probably came off harsher than it should have, but in my defense I'm pretty exhausted. I've been fighting giant ants, crawling through tunnels, and fighting off zombies and mutants for over an entire day, I'm running low on ammo, and supplies, and I just want to get done with this conversation so I can take a nap.

He. . . seems a little hurt, but he only takes a moment before continuing. "Fine, fine, no chatter. Here's the thing, see, Galaxy News Radio needs a dish to reach out past the DC ruins, and we had one up on the Washington Mon--" he sighs as I glare harder and purse my lips.

"Alright, then, real short version, I need you to head into the Museum of Technology and get a dish off the VirgoII lander and stick it back up on the washington Monument. Gonna be a lotta super mut--"

"Right, I'll get on it first thing tomorrow. Where can I sleep?"

His shoulders droop, defeated as he points off to a room.



For now I sleep. Tomorrow I check around the building for bullets and supplies, and then go and get a dish.


---------- Post added at 04:54 AM ---------- Previous post was at 04:54 AM ----------

Well if I've got readers, I've got content.
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Unread 12-15-2013, 10:10 PM   #315
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yea its nice when I'm in the mood for something to read instead of watch
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Unread 12-16-2013, 04:13 AM   #316
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On Lucy's Morality@Tactics: I think I'm probably going to keep her kinda neutralish, like she has been. No being a monster, but no being a paragon of good, either.

I feel like, while being a total paragon is fun to play, the balance of self-preservation and occasional wasteland justice against classical morality (from the vault) is more interesting to read.

Also, I'll keep doing this even if just Aero and tactics are reading, but if there's more people I certainly wouldn't mind hearing feedback or chatter about it.

Motivates me a bit.

Also, fun fact, 115 unique images in this update. Doing a full quest per update is probably making them kinda large. Luckily, the links at the start link just to the update posts.

However, should I start putting them in swap tags to make side talking easier? Is there anyone who is even interested in talking off to the side between updates?


ANYWAY, on to the update:

A Pleasant Day at the Mall--------------------




I wake up a few hours later and head back into Three Dog's offices, and down through the barracks. Manage to grab a few bullets, but really, for an 'outpost' this place is barely stocked. They've got a few bunks and some standing soldiers, but I couldn't find much ammo to steal, much less to ask for.



Which means I'll be defending myself with the laspistol. Or, as I like to call it, 'the flashlight'.



Well, this looks promising.

I sigh and hop down the collapsed building, Dogmeat running out ahead.



Ah hell, that's a ghoul, I'd better get down there an--



Well, nevermind then. Looks like Dogmeat's got it handl--

"Grrrarr."

I recognize that sound, and turn to my right, to see two more ghouls running up for dinner.



First is turned to ash by the lispistols beam. Don't know how that even happened with this thing's power output.



The other, however, takes the blasts in a manner I'd more expect.



Multiple lasers lance off his head before he finally goes down under Dogmeat.

I take a moment to listen, but there's no other movement so I assume I'm safe and head up to check out the picnic table I can see above me.



Nice. One of those boxes has a few clips for my assault rifle, the other's got some mines, and there's the spare gun on the table. I don't take the gun, but I DO disassemble it quickly and replace a few worn pieces on my own. Still pretty low on ammo, though, so I stick to the laspistol for now.

I'm pretty sure Three Dog was saying something about Super Mutants last night and I'd rather save these for them, than waste them on ghouls.



I hop down below and head to the end of the. . . well I guess it was a street at one point?

Either way. . .









Old tunnels. Seem to be abandoned until I hear the sound of ghouls. Lots of cars around too, though, and I know from the old history reels that these things used to work on miniature nuclear reactors, and a strong bang could set them off.

So I figure I could fight an army of ghouls of I could back up to a wall and. . .



BAD PLAN!

The force hurls me backwards, as I cover my torso with both arms. I can still feel something heavy smashing into it, and blackness takes me. I'm not sure how long I'm out but, when my eyes open again. . .



Nothing but smoldering fires and the scent of charred flesh. I rifle through my coat and find a few stimpacks, injecting them while I lay there for a bit, feeling slightly nauseous. The rest and medicine does it's job, however and soon I'm back on my feet. . . and I think I see. . .



Must be this way.



Yup.

Ugh, feel like I'm going to vomit, though, but I don't know why. It's not. . . doesn't feel like it's from the trauma at least. Maybe I'm coming down with the flu, or something. No time to be sick, though. I'm sure it'll be fine.

The tunnels open up to an office and sitting in the corner. . .



An old friend.



I power him up just like before, and he reads my ticket again. Still valid, after all. And then I decide to let him go first.





Good idea.

I can only see one mutant, but I can hear another, and see flashes of gunfire coming from the left. Red lasers lance from the protectron, however, and I add my own, weaker shots.





We make a good team, Protectron and I.

However it doesn't seem to be interested in going anywhere else, so I head further into the tunnels, to find them collapsed but there's a door. . .



And it looks to be leading to where I'm going. I step through, figuring this is a supply line between outposts for those power armored guys back there. Should be relatively clear. Few ferals and super mutants probably wandered in.

But of course a bullet whizzing past my face informs me that I'm wrong.



I drop and return fire from a crouched position, lances of light bursting through a spray of bullets, and in a fraction of a second it's over.



Still a bit too close for comfort, though, so I grab a couple spare clips off the body and decide I should use something a bit more reliable.



Looks like he was bunkered in here pretty well. And probably not alone judging by the ammo and weapons I find.

I head forward a bit more cautiously, and with a few more clips for my 14mm, back into some service tunnels. As the door into the tunnels opens, however, I hear the sound of a chair leg scraping against the steel floor, and head in quickly, turning the corner into the noise hoping to catch whomever, or whatever it was by surprise.



It works out pretty well.

I take a deep breath and head back down, however, it's not long before the hall ends and opens into some sort of natural cavern. . . and bullets ricochet all around me. I hit the ground and duck out taking aim at an automated turret. . .



Damnit. Was trying to disable the targetting chip but I blasted the whole damn thing.

Bullets continue to ring around me, but I've got the high ground now, and well. . .





They don't.



The natural caverns truncate at a security gate, but when I open it. . .





Well, I don't like the looks of it.





At all.

Even though the trap was easy to disable by simply cutting the tripwire, thus releasing the tension. Still means these guys have been here for awhile.



. . . And I'm really starting to wonder about the guys in T-51. Why would you let psychopathic bandits, ghouls, and god knows what else populate your supply routes. Either they're really thinly stretched, or they've got no idea what they're doing.

Either way, it explains why I'm doing this instead of Lyons.




I turn into some more service tunnels and can hear shouting and gunfire. I take a deep breath and kick open the door. . .






They were distracted and go down quickly, but I know they were distracted by something, and so I step in quick, and sliding a toe under the combat shotgun--which the idiot with the welding helmet was using--kick it up into my hands.





It works really really well.



With the room clear, however, I take a moment to help myself to their stores. Ammo, couple grenades. I think about taking the gun too, but I've got enough of those, and honestly I'm not sure I could take the weight feeling like I do.

I reach up and rub my nose and eyes in an attempt to dispel a creeping feeling of exhaustion, and then, when that doesn't work, stomp my feet hard enough to send pains through my legs.

That does the trick. For now, at least.



Another one. . .



But not for long.









I start to lose track of the ghouls. Only thing I'm sure of is there's too damn many, and I'm glad I brought a lot of shotgun shells with me.







After awhile I come to a three way split, but luckily. . .



I need only follow the signs. I'm heading to the Museum of Technology, I think, for the VirgoII dish, and it looks like I was right about the Mall Outpost being in the same area. Pipboy says the Museum is right off the Mall, after all.

Even without the symbols I could probably find my way now.





Still, no reason to settle for the foibles of instinct when I've got all these markers up, right?

I open the door and almost immediately hear gutteral grawl to my left. . .



However, as the creature's blasted apart by close range buck shot, I hear something above me. A chair skidding, and a muffled voice.



He, or they--not sure he's alone--doesn't seem to be sure where the noise came from yet so. . .





I fire off a couple more rounds into the wall, just to make noise.



Bait taken.



. . .and so were his legs.

Well, I hope he wasn't planning to run any marathons.



Anyway, I head upstairs, and find what appears to be some kind of murderous bandits' rec room. Complete with pool table.

What the hell? If this is a marked passage for those soldiers to come through, how are bandits LIVING down here, and for long enough to set all this up? You'd think they'd clear out as soon as someone came through. . .

Well, I guess, they ARE clearing out, but I would think they'd be gone before me.



Ugh, bodies hanging. Haven't seen that since Germantown.

I can hear movement and reach into a pocket and pull out a grenade, before sliding out into the tunnel.





Blast knocks him off his feet and nearly kills him.



But nearly isn't nearly near enough, and I execute him.



Hear something behind me. Don't see anything yet, though, so I proceed cautiously, until I can make out another couple of them.




Grenade makes quick work of the first as it lands right as his feet, the second, is just barely in the blast radius and is only blown to the ground.



I finish the job as she pulls herself to her feet.



They've got their own little cubby hole back here full of ammo, which I help myself to. It's like a little bandit village down here. I don't understand, and make a point to ask someone about it next time I can.





I continue down the lines, stumbling a bit here and there, as my feet feel heavy, and nausea washes over me in waves. I can feel cold sweat starting to prickle on my skin.

Maybe I won't be okay, but I'm too deep now to stop and go back. Only way to go is forward.



Besides, I'm almost there.

I step out into the dusk, and. . .



Oh fuck, the place is crawling with mutants.



I roll back down the stairs and pull out my 14mm, and pop out to take a few shots at the closest monster.



I catch him in the forehead and he goes down, but I'm forced back into cover by a spray of bullets.

The others are too far to aim at properly with a pistol, so I switch off to my hunting rifle.



The whine of a minigun starting up, but I'm not going to let it happen. Can't get a clear shot on him, but that gun is big. . . and one of my bullets lodges itself inbetween the chambers. A moment later there's the sound of steel tearing and an explosion.



He staggers back as half the fingers on his right hand are missing, giving me a clear shot, and I follow with a bullet through his chest that puts him down.

At this point I set the hunting rifle down and switch off to pistol again. Still outnumbered and they're closing in.



Goddamnit. There's two of them out there right next to each other. . . if I can plant a grenade properly. . .



Yes! One down.



The other is injured and seems to have dropped his gun, but he's not letting that stop him as he charges into a hail of 14mm gunfire.



Gunfire on the other hand? that stopped him.



I turn to my left and run toward the mutant on the ledge, zigging further to the left and out of his line of sight, while preparing my shotgun.



I slide up against his barricade and fire off two shots in quick succession, blowing the beast apart, before I hop over the sandbags, and look down across the battlefield.



I have no idea how I survived that.



Well, we're not done yet.



Spot another ugly immediately upon opening the doors. I zip around the pillars to avoid his gunfire and get in close, firing a shot into his head, and then take a deep breath and look around.



Looks like I can just follow the signs again.




Orrrrr not.

I turn and head into the vault exhibit instead, being the closest door to the virgo. I'm hoping it'll open up on the other side of that trench.















Well that was incredibly uncomfortable.



Looks like the VirgoII is just past the Planetarium.



Of course the damned thing turns on as soon as I enter, and I hear voices behind me. Big, dumb, mutant voices.

I spin and press the stock of my shotgun to my shoulder.





Well, that handled that.

I head right out of the planetarium and end up in a small office.



With a gun cabinet.

. . . With a goddamn missile launcher, and enough 5.56 to hold off a small invasion. What the christ? I try to lift the launcher, but can barely move it, and in the close confines of this building it's not worth trying to lug around. At least not with the way I'm feeling.

Probably blow myself up, anyway.



I try the other exit, and can hear voices from the far door over the planetarium announcements.



It opens as I reach the end of the hallway and I find myself staring down a big ugly. My shotgun's already ready, though and I fire first, but it doesn't put him down, and he returns fire. I can feel hot lead tearing through my abdomen as I smash down on my own trigger firing shell after shell.



He finally goes down and I stumble against the wall, pressing a hand to my wounds for a second. The adrenaline is chasing off the nausea and the shakes I'd been feeling up until this point, and I hope it doesn't go away as I shoot a stimpack into myself, letting the painkillers and healing mixture rush through my system.



And there's what I came for. I pull it off the lander and grab a few straps of leather from the mutant to strap it to my back. I also drop my assault rifle and pick up his.

Chinese models are a bit more efficient, and have a bit more killing power than the american one I've been using. I'd rather stick with the american make, really, but patriotism must fall before pragmatism. Besides, I doubt anyone outside the vault even cares, anymore.



I head out the atrium exit, and end up overlooking the entryway. Putting a hand on the railing I toss myself over. When I hit the rubble on my shaking legs, I nearly fall, but manage to right myself when Dogmeat runs down and helps to push me up.

He's a good dog, I decide, as I head outside, the adrenaline leaving my system and making me feel like a corpse.



Luckily it's only a short walk to the monument.



I feel like I wanted to ask them something but. . . I can't think of it right now. Mind's foggy.

One of them opens the gate and I head up.



So glad there's an elevator. I don't think I could have walked up stairs if I tried right now.



When I reach the top I unstrap the dish from my back and fix it in place, before powering up the relay again. Then I turn on the radio on my pipboy to check reception.

"People of the Capital Wasteland, you can HEAR MEEEE!!!! Yeeeaa haaaa!!! You can't stop the signal, baby! That's right, from Megaton to Girdershade, Paradise Falls to the Republic of Dave, we are coming to you loud and proud, in a special live report! 'But Three Dog! You're in that cool radio studio in D.C. How do YOU know I can hear you, all the way out here in the ass end of nowhere?' Because of the kid from Vault 101, that's how! That gal actually managed to repair our antenna relay. How's that for ingenuity, folks? From here on in, it's bye-bye stupid static, hello magnificent music. So sit back, relax, and absorb these classic tunes. Kid, you get your ass back to GNR, you hear me? We've got some stuff to talk about!"

. . .Well, I guess it worked. Kinda nice to be thanked over the air like that. . .



And the view's really p. . ur...

I feel the nausea welling up in me and put down the gun for a moment as both hands go on the edge of the window, a rain of half digested Sugar Bombs and BlamCo Mac & Cheese rain down with a sickening splatter below, that causes me to wretch a few more times.

. . .Hopefully no one was standing under there.

I wipe my mouth and stagger back into the elevator heading downstairs. . .



Where I find Dogmeat cleaning my mess. I repress my urge to vomit again--made easier by my absolutely empty stomach, and tell the dog to get out of there and come along.



I head back the way I came and it's not long before I make it to the GNR building. Couple hours, maybe. No fighting, though, which is good, as I can barely stand.

I realize that when I woke up in that tunnel the geiger counter on my wrist was going crazy. . . No doctors here. Need to get back to Megaton. . . Moira mentioned radiation, maybe she. . . my mind's a bit fuzzy.

First, let's find out where Dad is. . .



Three Dog hears me come up the stairs and heads out to greet me.

"Hey, all right! The Hero of the Wasteland retu--Jesus, kiddo, you look like shit. No offense."

I lean against the wall and simply nod. "Yeah."

"You uh, sure you're okay? Need to lay down for a bit or somethin'?"

I shake my head, droplets of sweat hitting the ground. "Rad poisoining. Need a doctor, not rest. See one after this. Just, tell me. . ."

He nods and offers me a hand to help me stand. "Right, okay kiddo. Your dad and I had a chat, but I don't think I can bore you with the details looking like you do," he says, his voice taking something of a paternal tone. Weird from Screechy McShouts here. "So I'll just cut right to the chase. He said he was heading to Rivet City to talk to a Doctor Li about somethin' he called Project Purity. That's all I got, kiddo."

I nod and push myself off of him to my feet, and start to head out, one foot after the other. "You sure you okay to travel?"

I lift a hand. "Gotta. No doctor here. I don't plan on dying."

"Alright, kid. You ever need a place to stay for a few days, GNR's open to ya."

I nod.



One foot. After. The other.
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Unread 12-16-2013, 05:39 AM   #317
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Unread 12-16-2013, 06:04 AM   #318
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No Matter How Rad You Get, You'll Never Get Radical

I stumble out of the GNR, can barely stand. . . can't remember. . .



Few. . . people. . . a gun fight?




Stumble past the Super Duper Mart. Heading the right way, at least.



Morning. Megaton. Almost. . .



Just. Keep. Walking. I can. . .





I trip and roll down the ramp, landing on my back looking up at the door. Just need to. . . get it open.



With a little work I manage to crawl inside.

Moira puts down the broom. I can't focus.

"Might be able to take care of that for y--" I nearly pass out, placing an arm on her shoulder to steady myself. I don't hear what comes next, only, "How do you feel?"

I choke something out. Not sure if it's a good descriptor or not.



Then I black out.

I don't know how long its been when I open my eyes.



Moira's over me, explaining things. Something about a mutation. "Here, take a few anti-radiation Chems, as my little way of saying, "I'm sorry I twisted your DNA like a kitten with a ball of yarn." I'm not sure if it's because I'm still groggy or not, but I'm having trouble being angry about what ever happened to me. I mean, I'm alive, at least.

She also gives me a few stimpacks, explaining that my sickness gave her what she needed for the last chapter. I nod, and pull myself to my feet. Shouldn't be here. Really shouldn't. I can remember now. I'm not afraid of Moriarty, but it was a bluff when I said I could kill him and the town wouldn't care.

Don't wanna get into a firefight, so I grab my things and head out as soon as I can.

I open the door and then feel a sharp thud on the back of my head, and the ground rushes up to greet me.





I manage to roll myself over onto my back just before my consciousness fades.

"I warned ya, Moriarty never forgives or forgets, but don't worry, I ain't gonna kill ya. Gotta get m. . .





Where. . .

A hand moves to my neck and I feel something strange as I pull myself to my feet.



Head's pounding. . . barely conscious. . . what is this collar?



And where am I?


---------- Post added at 05:04 AM ---------- Previous post was at 05:03 AM ----------

Short Update. Next one will be much bigger.
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Last edited by Krylo; 12-16-2013 at 09:58 PM.
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Unread 12-16-2013, 08:21 PM   #319
Aerozord
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Nice transition, how did you get the dizzying effect though?
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Unread 12-16-2013, 08:47 PM   #320
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I'm just gonna ask for one thing
can you put posts wrapped in swap tags?
it makes browsing a ton of updates a lot easier.
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