After many a year without a computer I have finally acquired a notebook so I am coming back into the game. I hope with this fic to meld two of my favourite pastimes; reading and gaming, to create something that you will love to read as much as I loved writing. Half of the first chapter was written in my stores lunchroom on a small notebook because the idea would not leave me alone. The whole story will take a little time so just bear with me; I'm a full time employee and a part time wife (a little joke between me and my husband), so updates will take a while. So without further adieu I bring you to a post apocalyptic wasteland...
Disclaimer: A Song of Ice and Fire and all of its related characters belong to George R. R. Martin. Fallout 3, Fallout New Vegas and all of its plotlines, items and locations belong to Bethesda.
Summary:
It's the year 2277; two hundred years after the US and China leveled Earth with their nuclear warheads. Humanity crumbled, leaving the world nothing but ashes and rubble. Those fortunate enough to be locked in one of the many fallout vaults under the Earth's crust are slowly emerging, some by choice and others forced out by the mutants and savages that remain above. Settlements sprung up upon emergence, and it is here we find out heroes; struggling with the war torn world that was bequeathed upon them. War. War never changes.
Chapter One: Once Upon a Wasteland.
A shot fired off into the early Nevada morning, scattering birds and animals alike. The sun had not yet fully risen, yet outside a poorly slapped together shack a battle ensued. A girl of no older than sixteen brought the butt of her gun down upon a grotesque creatures head, sending glowing yellow hunks of flesh in every direction. The creature dropped to the ground; releasing its hold on her. Her younger male companion chuckled, as if this were commonplace. She pulled up the bottom of her shirt to wipe the blood from her face. "Chuck me a Radaway Bran, it scratched me."
The boy, Bran, shrugged a torn up backpack from his shoulders, his green eyes scanning its contents for a small brown screw top container. He pulled it out and shook it; listening for the 'slosh' that meant it was as of yet unused. He tossed is casually to his elder. "Here 'go."
"That's three. You owe me a Nuke." She unscrewed the cap of the container and sucked it all back in one go, wincing at the taste of the only thing that could cure the bites and scratches of the radioactive undead creatures.
Bran simply laughed. "Delish ain't it Arya."
Arya threw a steel grey glare in his direction. "Yeah sure we'll go this that. Lovely little brother you are."
Her statement caused a chuckle as she put a finger to her lips and motioned her head toward the ramshackle door. Using the butt of her shotgun, Arya pushed the door open and silently entered the shack. The early morning light illuminated the room through the slats of the walls; displaying its derelict interior and aged contents.
A putrid stench assaulted their nostrils, though it was Bran that spoke first, raising a hand to his nose. "Fuck, who died?"
"He did." Arya motioned toward the body on the bed with the barrel of her gun. She walked over, the discomfort evident of her face as she rolled the bloated body over; recoiling at the smell of decomposing flesh. Her eyes landed on a needle with some bottles taped to the sides and she shook her head. "Poor bastard died of a Psycho overdose."
Bran shrugged his pack off his shoulders and began digging through it. "Well, he has no use for these things now but we do so let's get started."
"Real compassionate, Brandon." She rolled her eyes and began to move the bed aside. Peering down the gap between the wall and bed; she was able to spot the distinctive glow of a safe. "We got a safe."
There was a 'click' and Bran stood up from the locker her was opening. He walked the small distance to his sister, before dropping to his knees and inserting the bobby pin into the lock. Wiggling it a little, he listened for the click that would render the lock useless and allow them to pillage whatever was inside. "It's a deep one Arya, might be some armor inside. "
Arya's grey eyes snapped to the door and worry filled her stormy grey eyes. He hands worked quickly to fill her ammo as began to walk toward the door. "Bran hurry, I think I heard something outside."
Bran thrust his fist into the safe and began shoving everything that came out into his pack; bottle caps, the large plunger syringes that housed Stimpak medication, anything that would fit excluding... "There's armor, let's go."
"Good thing too we've got company." She raised her shotgun to her shoulder; tossing her 10mm pistol to Bran. Footsteps could be heard, accompanied by the stench of death. Arya shot a look to her brother knowing he knew exactly what she meant. On three they would kick out the door and run out, all guns blazing. She raised three fingers and lowered them slowly. Three... Two... One.
Her foot connected with the door, sending it crashing onto the desert floor; kicking up dust and allowing them the distraction they needed to get an upper hand. Arya squinted and fired a blast at the nearest creature, gaining a headshot and a face full of brain and blood as the dense ammunition disintegrated dead flesh. A hand reached out toward her and missed by inches as she fired another; hitting this one in the gut and forcing it to stagger backwards. It growled at her; the sickening trill in the undertone piercing her ears and making her wince. She could hear Bran beside her, firing rapidly at two gaining on him.
They emerged from the dust cloud running toward the ruins of a town, firing into the dust behind them hoping to nail one of the creatures before it could give a proper chase. Two came from the cloud; arms raised toward them even though they were a few feet behind. Bran quickly reloaded his weapon and began to fire once more. Seven shots rang out and the two creatures dropped to the dirt. The creatures eliminated; the siblings slowed down a little to catch their breath but never stopped. They knew the risks of the world they lived in.
They knew that the threat was never truly gone.
The early morning sun flooded in through the ruined buildings in the close distance and the siblings decided to slow to a walk. They were almost safe now as New California Republic soldiers frequently patrolled the small settlement they lived in. They wandered through the ravaged wreckage of a city that may once have been great, but now stood desolated; a testament to a world gone mad. A red brick building was where the Stark family claimed sanctuary. It had no top floor as what was left had crumbled in placed exposing whoever was up there to the elements and – god forbid – whomever or whatever was on the higher rooftop of the buildings beside.
Arya slapped a hand down on Bran's shoulder with a huge grin. "Good haul today; dad will have a few nice things to sell in the shop. You said you got armor?"
"Yeah, looks like it may be a beat up set of combat." He examined the steel and cloth bundle he had tied to his belt to keep from losing. "I'll take it down to Mikken's and meet you at home."
"I want my Nuka Cola when you get back Brandon." She replied, eyes narrowed. They had come to a stop outside of their home and Arya turned toward the door. "Actually, I'm taking three caps from the box under your bed."
Bran rolled his eyes before turning to leave. He had bet Arya that they would run into a couple of Raiders; scavengers like themselves, relying on what they could find in the desert to survive. Arya had bet it would be white walkers; the often highly irradiated members of the old world that had become ravenous for human blood. Two hundred years of stalking the dead earth would do that. "Fine, take the damn caps; I'll get my Sunset Sarsaparilla next trip."
Arya opened the door and entered her family home. It had only two floors; the basement where the family slept under lock and key due to fear of attack, and the main floor that housed their small living room and kitchen. "Mum, I'm back. Bran's gone straight to Mikken's. He found some beat up combat armor."
"I'm in the kitchen Arya." Her mother replied.
Catelyn Stark was a beauty like her eldest daughter Sansa. Long copper hair and eyes a delightful mixture of blue and green. Her beloved husband Eddard often told her that looking into her eyes was the closest he had ever come to seeing the ocean. She was one of a handful of survivors from the massacre of Vault 16, a vicious attack by drug fueled psychopaths who claimed that the blood of the residents would save them from the terrors of the upper world. When Ned had first seen her, she had been bathed in blood and terrified. His own brother Brandon had ran to the blood soaked girl that wandered by the house the Stark family still currently possessed and ushered her into their home. Their father had long since passed, leaving the home and responsibilities of his company, 'Stark Supply' to the two boys and their sister Lyanna. Brandon had fallen quite quickly in love and Catelyn did too. The pair was set to be wed; such a celebration brought delight and joy to all of the residents of Freeside as something joyous did not happen often. A mere week before the wedding, Brandon had been crushed inside an old school when the enormous green humanoid that had chased him inside set off a frag mine and caved the ceiling under which he was hiding in. Life proving itself once again to be devastatingly short, Ned offered himself to Catelyn, promising to take care of her as much as his brother had. She had rejected his offer at first, not wanting to be a burden on him and the family he had welcomed her into.
Bad luck seemed to follow the Stark family as on a cold October night, Lyanna and her fiancé Rhaegar left to go to New Vegas for a couple of days, leaving their son in the care of Ned and Catelyn. They were never heard from again. Left with a baby to care for, Ned and Catelyn got married and little Robb followed soon after.
Arya entered the tiny kitchen and sat at the table. Catelyn smiled at her daughter but never strayed from the fresh apples that had been traded in the store for some purified water. She had decided to make coyote meat skewers for the family's supper. "How did it go today? Do you need to go to the clinic?"
"No I only got scratched a couple times. We had some Radaway." She shrugged and pushed her long chestnut braid over her shoulder. "We found a dead junkie."
Her mother nodded. "I'll send Robb and Jon out to bury it when they get back. They've gone over to the Golden Lion for their shift."
The eldest Stark brothers helped out at a local bar and casino, run by family friends the Lannisters. They would bartend, bouncer and on the odd occasion collect overdue debt owed to the casino.
Arya got up and walked over to her mother, giving her a kiss on the cheek. "I'm heading to the shop so I'll see you tonight mum. You need me to bring anything home with me?"
"No that's alright sweetheart, I'll send the boys over to grab directions from you later." She hugged her youngest daughter. "Have a safe day at work."
Before she left the house, Arya was good to her word, wandering down the basement stairs to the room her four brothers shared. She pushed aside the curtain that Ned had strung to give them some privacy, reaching for the small box that contained Bran's bottle caps and opened it. She removed three of the dirty currency and put them in her pocket. She ran back up the stairs, eager to get to the shop and begin her shift. She would see the most interesting people at her job, everyone from rich to poor came into the store for things. The occasional robot also visited.
Exiting the house, she began a fast pace up the main street, wandering past the half exploded cars decayed from centuries of rust; the odd rat sized like a medium dog being chased through the streets by children needing to help put a meal on the table. She rounded the corner that lead to Stark Supply smiling ad she got closer to the store. She could almost taste the Nuka Cola now! Wandering in the door, she was greeted by the warm, welcoming smile of her father.
Ned Stark looked exactly like his daughter. Deep chestnut hair, stormy grey eyes and he had the same ferocity for family. A sense he had instilled in her. "Morning princess, Bran already stopped by on his way to Mikken's, dropped off all the stuff you guys found this morning."
Arya slipped behind the counter and gave her dad a hug. "Yeah, did he mention the white walkers?"
"Unfortunately yes. I'll tell Uncle Benjen we need a few more boys out in the morning." He made a quick note and pinned it up on the message board that the soldiers from the local station; they called it The Wall would come to Stark Supply twice a day and pick up any requests for help, missing persons and additional patrols. He continued to sort through the pile of things that his children had found that morning as Arya settle in for her shift.
The store was never packed but it was never short on customers. People looking to sell their trinkets to gain a passport to visit the Strip, caravaneers stopping by to trade their junk for the junk that others had traded. They carried everything from ammunition to medical supplies and everything in between.
"I'm going out later with Robb, down to the South Ruins." Ned said. "Some wanderer came through recently and took care of Vault 3. I heard that there's some decent munitions inside so you need to watch the shop Alright?"
Arya nodded, smiling at the customer who had just walked in. He was dressed casually, some jeans that had seen better days and a torn up t-shirt. The gentleman smiled back and began to wander the shelves. Arya busied herself with the small pile of knick knacks that had been found or traded off. Suddenly, the guy grabbed a few things off the shelf and run out the door. "DAD THEIF!"
Ned Stark pulled the liquid nitrogen fueled Shishkebob – motorized sword- from under the counter and ran after the thief.
Arya shook her head and chuckled. If he thought he could outrun her father; he would be tasting the cold bite of Ice sooner than he thought.
Life in the wasteland was never dull.
Or so she thought...
So, that was the first chapter. There is a very good chance I will not be making villains out of the Lannisters, and as previously mentioned updates will be as frequent as I can. If there is a main pairing it will be my OTP – Gendrya. Love the t1o squeakers!
Roxy Leigh x