Author's Notes:
Starlll: Holy crap, you're still reading this? Yes! Okay, lemme see, (opens up his Fallout 3 map of the Capital wasteland) uh-huh... uh-huh... okay! Here we go!
Scypris: Do you REALLY have a map of the wasteland? My god, you're addicted to that game, aren't you.
Starlll: Used to be. Then my brother's 360 broke. IT WAS LIKE GOING ON COLD TURKEY, MAN! (Starts shaking Scypris by the shoulders) NOW I HAVE TO WAIT UNTIL THE RELEASE OF NEW VEGAS TO DOWNLOAD IT ON MY COMPUTER BEFORE I CAN GET MY FALLOUT ON! TWO WHOLE MONTHS, MAN!
Scypris: (Pulls out gun and shoots Starlll away) Get off of me!
Starlll: (Falls to the ground, clutching his bullet holes) OW! (Deep breaths, then slowly gets up) Whew. Thanks, man. I needed that. Okay, for those of you who don't understand the chapter's title, the song 'Take me to Duke's Place' was really popular a long time ago. It was also probably the inspiration for Dukov's name, and the name of his his house (Dukov's place).
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Chapter 1: Take me to Dukov's Place!
/
Scypris woke up again at around 5:00 PM. He heard footsteps. He clutched his gun.
"Come on, keep moving. We're on patrol." Said the a man, probably in his twenties with light armor.
Okay, it's not a Brotherhood of Steel Knight or Paladin, because they don't wear light armor. So, it's either a Talon Mercenary, or a Brotherhood Recruit. It's a 50-50 shot.
Scypris crawled behind a trash bin, getting out his pistol. That was the only weapon he had left.
"Look, we could probably just ditch out into some corner and take a smoke." A second one suggested. Definitely not Talon. No, Talon recruits don't see light for the first month of initiation. Then they take their clothes leaving them completely naked in the middle of the wasteland with only a knife and a shotgun with 10 shells in it. Scypris cocked his gun, aiming for where their heads would be in a moment.
"I dunno, Tom. Lyons would know. He always knows when we lie."
Scypris nodded luckily. They had probably only been members for about a month. They still believed that their superiors were god-figures.
"Hey, it's easy to lie." Tom said, turning the corner. "All you have to do is look them in the eye and-"
B
_A
_N
_G!
Scypris shot Tom between the eyes, then the other one just below the lip, embedding it into his brain. Neither of them had a chance to raise their guns. Scypris limped over to them, using every muscle in his body to support himself. He frisked the two dead bodies and found some guns and ammo (nothing he could carry in his current condition, though), dog tags (which he cut off with his combat knife and threw them into the dumpster), and one stimpack on each of them. Scypris injected the stimpacks immediately, one to his hip (which then flowed through both legs), and the other to his upper chest.
Scypris felt strength flow through his limbs, and began walking again. He had a bit of a limp, but he knew from experience that it would fade in a day or two. He looked at his situation again. Right in front of him was two suits of moderately used recon armor. Scypris removed the better-looking suit, and put it on. He bent his limbs a few times, loosening them. He slowly pulled the two bodies into the dumpster, and sat against it.
Scypris closed his eyes, letting his body heal.
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Scypris got up the next day, around morning. He stood up, feeling fine. In fact, in spite of a slight soreness and a limp on his left leg, he felt nothing wrong with him.
Scypris slowly began walking. He knew had had to get out of there NOW. The Brotherhood of Steel would start searching for those two missing initiates, and the collapsed Underworld behind him was a dead marker.
He had to think. What was the one place in the DC ruins where nobody would look... where even if they thought of it, they wouldn't go to... Dukov's Place. Scypris nodded. Old Dukey wouldn't mind.
The dead never cared what you do to them.
/
Scypris made it into the building, using an elongated assault rifle as a walking stick. He opened the doors with some difficulty and stepped inside. Something was off, though. It smelled different. It took him two seconds to realize what was wrong: he never did anything about the dead bodies after he killed them. He just left them where they were shot; in a chair; on the stairs; and on the pool table which once was covered in pre-war cash and beer.
Scypris sighed, wishing he had thought ahead to throw the dead bodies outside after he killed them. He plugged his nose with bullets and headed upstairs to the bedroom, stepping around the dead body of... what's her name again? Cherry?
Scypris could care less about remembering her name, he just walked up. He glanced at the giant hanging lights in the shape of two people, rolled his eyes at how disturbed Dukov used to be, and did something mindless enough to take his mind off the fact that he just left everybody behind: Target practice.
Scypris squeezed off two shots onto two empty vodka bottles (He never bothered cleaning up all of Dukov's messes, just the ones that involved him getting paid handsomely for) on the other side of the room, which had been stacked on a chair. He shot a third one off of one of the skylights, causing glass to rain down (though not enough to affect him), and Scypris shot a fourth bottle off the top of Dukov's head.
Scypris may have been a raider, but he was completely sane, and not a cannibal. He didn't enjoy playing with dead bodies, but that didn't mean that he was disturbed by them, either. What seemed liked centuries ago, a man named Vance taught him how to eat dead humans. Or, at least, to drink their blood. Scypris only drank one person's blood before, and that was to convince Vance that he could be trusted. Once he was let through the gates to see the rest of The Family (a group of people who believe that they are vampires), though, Scypris had slaughtered them, took everything valuable, and tossed the bodies into a nearby fire. He sold the advanced weaponry and schematics to a caravan, then used the caps to fix his 10mm pistol, which had taken severe damage during the firefight that had taken place with The Family.
Scypris groaned when he ran out of ammo. Now his only weapon was his Combat Knife. He had lost his emergency weapons (a sniper rifle, a combat shotgun, and an assault rifle (not a Chinese rifle, just a normal one) when he destroyed the Underworld. He was starting to realize what he had just done. It was falling on him.
I just killed myself. He realized. He didn't actually take his own life, but he pretended to. He couldn't see his old friends again. All two of them. Uncle Leo and Reilly. Reilly. Reilly. Reilly. Reilly. Reilly. Shit.
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Starlll: Some of you may be confused by Scypris' memories. Just remember that this story takes place AFTER a good majority of the quests in Fallout 3. And also don't forget that Scypris has no plans to redeem himself any time soon.
Scypris: (Nods)
Starlll: Oh, and one last thing: I'm trying to write this in a different style than I usually do: with very little dialogue. When you think about it, there isn't much talking in Fallout 3 unless you're in a town. And even then, it can be very limited, 'I'd like to buy this', 'Where is the hospital', and 'I'd like to see what's on the menu'.
Scypris: Exactly.
