1 week later.
The cool air of the wind did nothing to deter him as he ignored the howls and focused on the Beowolves charging at him. The Xuanlong Rifle let out a few bursts of 5.56 and the creature fell, a cloud of dark flowing off its corpse. A sneer formed behind his helmet as he felt the faint smell of Ash. Pulling out a magazine, he dropped the empty one onto the ground and reloaded the modified type 93 assault rifle with a satisfying click as he pulled back the bolt.
Under a silver sky, I wander.
These broken highways have become my home.
A roar caught the Wanderer off-guard, as an Ursa rushed from behind a bush, making a b-line for the kid from Vault 101. Fortunately for the Dweller, Dogmeat blindsided the beast and began gnawing at its side. As the Ursa tried to shake the Dog off, the Wanderer took aim and unloaded an entire clip into its stomach. Hollow point rounds tore through the unarmored parts of the bear-like Grimm and splattered black blood everywhere. With a whine, it crashed down, and Dogmeat ran to his master, growling at the incoming Grimm, as the Wanderer reloaded again, sighing at the clip he just had wasted.
Alone in a world of rust and ruin stay
Through grey civilization's dust, I roam
Angry squeals, made the Wanderer turn towards the end of the street, a glare forming behind his visor as a Boarbatusk began back-peddling its hooves before sprinting at the Wanderer's direction. Sighing he dropped the rifle and cracked his mechanical knuckles as the oversized pork was mere meters away from him. As it got close enough, the Wanderer's hands clasped its Tusks in the right second and stood his ground, the servos crying at the sheer force of the Boar had built up. However, the Wanderer had tanked much worse and stood firm, letting the Grimm tire itself out trying to free itself. Its tugs and pulls became weaker and its screeching squeals lowered themselves as though tamed.
And my wasteland soul
Never will be truly whole
Smirking he then used his full force to lift the Grimm over himself and slam it onto a nearby rock. There was a sickening crack as it crashed onto its back and howled. The Wanderer finished it of by using the tusks to twist its head and snap its neck.
My only remaining goal now...
Leaving it to die, he turned back towards the incoming Grimm which were made up of Beowolves and Creepers. Crashing from the Skies the form of a Nevermore hovered above letting out a furious screech. The Wanderer sighed and pulled out Vegnance from his pack.
To Survive!
With a yell of his own, he pulled the trigger and let out a stream of red beams that began to punch into the horde. Some were instantly vaporized turning into fine piles of ash that glowed slightly, others perished from having holes burned into their very being, crippling them before death. And though their numbers were innumerable, he had plenty of ammo.
Someday the rains will come and wash it all away!
The heart of the wasteland will awaken on this day!
1 week and three days later
His footsteps echoed across the cobblestone road as the Gauss Rifle was up, his head scanning for any hostiles across the ghost town. The rotting carcasses of buildings surrounded him, their exposed wooden skeletons bringing back memories of the rusted and twisted corpses of DC's city.
Shattered remains of once-great cities
These silent highways lead to halls of stone
A sigh escaped him as he glanced towards the buildings, noting the claw marks and old casings lying around. Glancing towards one of the buildings he could make the chilling shape of a skeleton peaking out, in its hands a broken sword and half of its body split apart. This place had been taken years ago if he had to guess, just like some of the other villages.
Every horizon sees it closer now
I venture onwards into the unknown
Turning his head towards the end of the town, he motioned Dogmeat to follow as they both made their way to its exit. This place had been lost and forgotten and if it had something valuable it would have been picked clean a while ago considering that he had looked into a few of the more important buildings earlier. Better to let it rot and let nature reclaim it; let it rest like the citizen who lived in this place once upon a time.
And my calloused hands
Have learned to weather and withstand
He exited the ruined town, giving it one last glance. From a satchel, he pulled out a silver cross and crossed himself as he silently prayed for the people who had died in this place. Whether or not a God existed, he hoped that their souls would rest in peace for if the indications of claws and teeth told him anything; their end was not a quick and painless one. With a whispered Amen, he turned back to the road; righteous intent flowing through his veins. For if the Innocent suffer, the wicked must pay.
The tribulations of this land in which I strive
2 weeks later
The headlight shot through the darkness like a knife through butter, illuminating the spots he gazed upon. The tunnel he was marching through had originally been built as a sort of underground highway for quicker transport through the kingdom, but construction had stopped halfway due to the amount of Grimm attacks and lack of support after an 'incident' at a city known as 'Mount Glenn'.
To the Wanderer, however, it reminded him of the old DC Metro Tunnels; dark, damp, and ruined as he would see critters scatter and move in the darkness. As he glanced to his left scaring a Rat away, Dogmeat's growls made him turn back as he raised the "Terrible" Pancor Jackhammer Shotgun he got from blowing Smiling Jacks' head onto a wall.
Someday the rains will come and wash it all away!
The heart of the wasteland will awaken on this day!
Vis-à-vis of himself he glared upon the shambling humanoid Grimm which clustered all together like a school of fish. Their gangly limbs swaying and moving similar to a bug, made the hairs on the Wanderer's back raise. Their red eyes turned to him and let out a wail which immobilized the Dweller.
Someday the rains will come and wash it all away!
The heart of the wasteland will awaken on this day!
In the back of his mind, he heard the whispers again, mocking him, taunting him. Reminding him of the blood he spilled, of how he was a homeless fool who wandered through ruins and deserts like a vulture. How no one could rely on him; how everything was his fault! How Dad's death was on him! How he should have never been born and how his mother would have survived and Project Purity would have been made possible much earlier.
Dogmeat began to whine and fell to the ground laying there with tired eyes.
His breathing was hitched, his arms and legs felt weak and the power armor which previously was light like a feather felt as though he was carrying tons. He fell to one knee as sweat poured down his face and his eyes felt heavy. The Whispers were louder and like a parasite, it stole his life, stole his will, and stole his power. As he felt his energy leaving him and his vision beginning to blur, the Wanderer wasn't sure if he was tripping because he was the devil looming over him.
Tin cans and bottle caps and twisted steel
This world's seen better days I'm sure
Satan cackled as he stared at the tired Wanderer, ready to take his soul to the pits and make him suffer. It would be the end, the bitter bitter end...that's when he saw it; the face of his father. Then came the face of Amata, then Jonas, and even Butch. More and more faces flashed from Moria to Three-Dog, from Bryan Wilks to Hannibal Hamlin. Everyone he had ever helped flashed passed him, their joy, their smiles their gratitude. Even though he had felt betrayed, even after he had left the wastes he felt as though they were cheering him. He felt as though they were screaming at him to get up, to stand back up to fight back. Then came the faces of those who he had just met, the villagers from Dangchoek, Hwan, the people he had saved from raiders; the faces of recent people. And they all cheered, all of them so loud that the dark whispers became overshadowed by the sheer echo of those who cherished him.
And so all traces of doubt and loss of willpower were torn away as a holy inferno burned into his heart; he shall not fall, not today. For his resolve was tested and instead of breaking, the Wanderer found strength in the love of the people and god. A ray of light shone out of the Wanderer's headlamp and Satan vanished, showing him the beasts much clearer. With a growl the Wanderer rose back up, legs shaking and rage flowing through his veins
"Not today, fuckos."
The Shotgun was raised and he unloaded all 12 rounds into the cluster of Grimm, without a sign of hesitation. He then unsheathed Gehenna; the holy blade stilled at the moment yet ready to purge the wicked and the demons in the dark.
"YOU'VE CALLED DOWN THE WRATH!"
But I'd give every withered wealth
I've found For just a glimpse of something pure
The Shishkebab ignited in its glorious blaze and was slashed towards one of the creatures, cutting them apart as the holy white hot flame of Hinnom sent the soulless demons to the pits of hell. The Grimm used to their powers working were taken aback, yet could not move as the Wanderer decapitated another creature.
"With a donkey's jawbone, I have made asses of them!" The Wanderer quoted Judges 15:16 as he stabbed another Apethy through its chest. "With a donkey's jawbone, I have killed a thousand men!"
But my wasteland soul
Never will be truly whole
As the Vault dweller finished the last of the creatures he nearly crashed to the ground as though the exhaustion caught up with him. Unfortunatly another wave of dread hit him as he gazed up. Hundreds of red eyes glared at him from the darkness as more Apethy shuffled towards him, some letting out their demoralizing screeches.
My only remaining goal...
The Wanderer's rage returned ten-fold and he raised both hands up with Gehenna still ignited.
"I will fill your mountains with the dead. Your hills, your valleys, and your streams will be filled with people slaughtered by the sword!" He yelled as he stepped forward, the holy blade ready to banish more Abominations. "I will make you desolate forever. Your cities will never be rebuilt. Then you will know that I am Samson!"
to survive!
With a maddening howl, he charged again at the Grimm, hacking whacking, and smacking! The Blade of the lord carved through the hordes as the Wanderer roared like a deathclaw. Though Grimm were soulless and mostly mindless they would become wiser and more cunning as time went on, with ancient ones living for Hundreds of years. For the oldest of the Apathy in the cluster, as it gazed at the furious form of the Wanderer who slashed its kin apart if felt something for the first time in its 400-year-old lifetime…
Someday the rains will come and wash it all away!
The heart of the wasteland will awaken on this day!
Dread.
As it gazed upon the Wanderer, it felt dread. There among the burning corpses of its kin, he sliced them apart, striding through their numbers with rage so hot it was sure it would attract other Grimm. The Wanderer meanwhile opened a path through the ocean of grimm; any doubt and guilt they may try to feed into his mind silenced by the wrath of his righteous fucking fury and the love of the lord.
Someday the rains will come and wash it all away
The heart of the wasteland will awaken on this day
The Grimm tried to flee, they ceased their assault and turn tail for they could not withstand the righteous wrath of the lord's chosen. They cowered and whined like a babe and when the servant of heaven and Jesus christ knocked, the temple came down, and the light of the lord pierced into their husked bodies. Like wretches they begged at the lord, they begged at the Paladin for forgiveness but forgiveness is a gift only those with souls can have, for the Grimm had non.
Someday the rains will come and wash it all away
The heart of the wasteland will awaken on this day
As he finished off the last of Grimm, the Wanderer's mind began to clear; bible verses and a biblical vision dying down. A growl escaped him as he realized he might have let his emotions get the better of him. Still, it was also probably what kept him alive. He sheathed his blade and turned back, seeing Dogmeat slowly rise up.
Sighing he marched over the hound and began to carry him on his shoulder, the gun stashed and aiming with the 10mm Revolver in front of him, as he continued forth through the tunnel. Slowly his mind began to still while his heart still pumped; he didn't know what just happened, didn't understand why it happened. All he knew was that he should have died back there and he didn't. Perhaps it was fate, perhaps he had actually seen the devil and it wasn't some vision his mind conjured up as he was dying.
All he knew was that he was alive and that it was love and rage that had kept him alive. The love for those he cherished and the rage at those who would dare harm them.
The heart of the wasteland!
The heart of the wasteland!
The heart of the wasteland!
The heart of the wasteland!
The heart of the wasteland!
The heart of the wasteland…
She fell to her knees, tears flowing freely from her illiac eyes as she gazed upon the inferno. The large cabin of insulated oak with the two flower pots filled with sunflowers, a place she had learned to see as a safe haven and place of comfort was burning. Just like that, the memories she had experienced with her little sister and her dad all going to ash, crumpling down, and becoming forgotten. All the love, all the effort that had been put into building this home for a loving family was fleeting.
Yet it was not the fact that her home was on fire that bothered her the most, it was who was crawling toward her.
He had tanned skin and blond hair, combined with a pair of cargo shorts and a vest that shared the same sandy color palettes. His right arm was armored with a vambrace and shoulder plate. Yet it was those azure eyes which shook her the most; the eyes of her father being scared. She wanted to run towards him; he had been injured with several cuts all over his body and a massive gash on his chest. Yet as she moved her legs she felt them detach, agony shooting up her entire body. As she looked down she screamed as she gazed upon the bleeding stumps where her legs were, her eyes darting to where they had fallen off.
She reached for them with her left hand only for it to also simply slide off and shoot blood. She screamed harder, unable to move, unable to do anything but lay there like a useless sack of meat. Her limbs turned to ash at her very eyes and as she gazed back at her father begging for his help, a chill ran down her spine.
Grabbing her father by his hair, he grinned.
The mask obscured his eyes yet she could feel the malice behind them; the horns being lit by the fire making him look like a demon of sorts. His red blade was placed under her Dad's neck and with a deliberate slow-motion he slit his throat, leaving him to gurgle on blood and for her to watch as the life faded from his eyes. She wanted to scream but the second her mouth opened she felt her tongue slip off and roll onto the ground. Tears flowed freely and she tried to say anything, to howl, to call for help, to beg. Her demon loomed over her, his blade out, and pointed at her.
"What's the matter…" he laughed as he grabbed something from behind him.
Her eyes widen once she looked upon the head of her partner Blake; her eyes gouged out and lifeless as Adam smirked at her.
"Cat's got your tongue?"
His blade was swung, and Yang felt all feeling in her body vanish as her head rolled off.
Yang woke up with a scream, sweat covering her body as though she had fallen in a river. Her head rose and she nearly banged her head against the top bunk of her cabin's bed. As she gazed upon the room the first thing she did was check on her body; her hands, her legs her belly, making sure nothing was missing, nothing had been cut off.
Fortunately, she had her legs, and her left arm; the only one missing was the right.
But she knew that.
Laying back down she took deep breaths, trying to calm her nerves as he flipped a switch next to her bed which turned on the mini ventilator. As her heart began to be still and the realization dawned upon her that it was a dream, the dam finally broke and she began to cry.
Ever since she had left her home it started to all come back to her.
Sure it wasn't as bad as before; but the fear still lingered, the pain, the horror.
Alongside the training sessions with her Dad, she had also been visiting therapy back on Patch; Dr. Pollo had been a godsent and a man who had helped her overcome a lot of the pain and grief she had felt after the fall of Beacon. However, it all changed when she had been ready to leave. It all started so well; She had been looking over her bike Bumblebee if it was ready to ride when her dad came over to talk. Though they were in good spirits he then decided to ask her a question;
Where was she going?
Such a simple question.
And yet why did she feel...at odds with herself?
On one hand, there was her mother; the woman who she had wanted to meet all her life, the woman who for some reason left her and her father, never contacting her, never sending a letter, never caring. And she wanted to know why.
Why wasn't she here?
And yet at the same time, there was Ruby; her sister who she had cared for and loved throughout their life. Ruby who had always been at her side and always looked up to her.
Ruby who when Yang was at her lowest point in life, left.
However unlike her mother, Ruby had a reason; She wanted to find out who caused the fall of Beacon; wanted to put a stop to it alongside Nora, Ren, and Jaune.
At the very least Ruby had a reason to leave her; to find who was responsible for those events at Beacon and put them to justice. Something a Huntsman would do. Something though it hurt, still made her proud. Because her baby sister was fighting to save the world while she was healing, and doing her hardest to put a stop to what happened.
It still hurt that she left but she was happy to hear that she was making a difference. She wasn't dragged off by her family like Weiss and unlike someone, she didn't flee. A faint bit of rage flared up in the back of Yang's mind when she thought about Blake, the one who ran from her problems…
She put these thoughts aside and focused on what her Dad had asked her.
Where was she going?
Taiyang stared at her as he leaned against the door, a conflicted look in his eyes. Yang took a breath and stared into his eyes ready to answer.
"I'm going after Mom," Yang spoke, her eyes focused. "Ruby is strong enough to take care of herself for now and has Qrow as a backup; Mom owes me answers. Once I got them I'm gonna join up with Ruby."
The older Xiao Long sighed and rose from his position before placing a hand on his daughter's shoulder. Yang felt a certain discomfort as though she looked at her father who seemed as though his mind was struggling to make out words.
"If that is the case then…" He looked down, hesitant for a second. "Then I think I need to tell you the truth."
Huh?
"You are a grown woman now, not a kid, and can make your own decisions." His brows furrowed and he steeled himself. "Yang, your mother was a Bandit."
Glass shattered.
"W-What…" Yang's eyes were wide, and her left arm trembled.
"You know the 'Tribe' me and Qrow mentioned…" Taiyang looked back at his girl, sorrow plainly on his face. "It was a Bandit tribe, one of the more feared ones in Mistral."
Yang felt sick, almost as if she wanted to throw up.
That couldn't be right.
Sure Dad didn't tell her a lot about her Mom, but he did show her pictures from their team STRQ days. Hell, she even got to see the recording of the Vytal match that STRQ had participated back in their Beacon days! She saw how her Mom fought in the finals against GladiusNikos, she saw how she and the team had been dubbed the Vytal champions, and she remembered some of the tales Qrow told her of STRQ's days.
"B-But...she was a Huntress…" Yang took a few steps back and sat on her bike, the strength in her legs gone. "She was with you, wh-why…"
"Originally She and Qrow had been sent by her tribe because they needed a way to counter Huntsmen, but when she became part of team STRQ she rose beyond that and became a great Huntress…" Taiyang felt a faint smile forming as he looked towards the sky. "At first both her and Qrow had been a broody pair; they were dicks to everyone, threatened us with physical harm if they didn't get their way; real pair of cutthroats. But as time went on they didn't just mellow out but grew themselves. Raven had become someone you could rely on…"
He looked back at her, an air of nostalgia hitting him.
"She had been someone who always had your back. Even if she didn't agree with you, even if she may have been broody or insulting, she always backed up those she respected and loved. She never gave up when she fought and she never backed down from any challenge and always gave her all in every situation…"
"Then why did she leave me…" the younger Xiao Long meekly spoke up.
"It's complicated…" Taiyang looked away.
For a second Yang's eyes turned red.
"Oh no no no no….you will tell me now!" The girl actually snarled. "You don't get to drop that bomb and not elaborate!"
If Taiyang felt any sort of intimidation or offense to his daughter's behavior he didn't show it, only gazing at his little dragon with pity.
"Raven had never been well adapted to the calmer side in life." Taiyang began as he pulled out something from his pocket. "The Tribe she grew up with had been constantly raiding and fighting; only the strong lived and the weak die, so if you wanted to live you had to earn your rights."
His eyes were glued to the tribal necklace in his hand.
"Unlike Qrow she wasn't used to this normalcy, this calmness; it felt unnatural to her, alien even…"
"So she left me because she couldn't handle a normal fucking life?!"
"No, that was the foundation." Taiyang shot her back a look. "Though she had a tough time she had at the very least tried and was slowly getting the hang of it, she did feel unhappy."
"No, what really caused her to leave was something that happened shortly after you were born." Taiyang placed the trinket back in his pocket. "Ozpin called us and told us he needed someone to go scouting into the Grimm lands. Raven after the pregnancy and settled life was very eager and only four months after your birth she headed out."
A pained looked formed on his face.
"She came back two weeks later, claiming the mission had been completed." His hand ran down the oak walls of the shed, caressing them though they were a faint memory. "The others though everything is fine, but I knew her well. See, Yang your mom had a tick whenever she got nervous; she'd tap her fingers against her weapon and after her trip, she was constantly tapping. I tried asking her what was wrong but she refused to tell me, only saying that Ozpin is a bastard.
"One day she told me she would return to the tribe and wanted to take you with her."
Yang's world came to a halt, her mind blank as what her father told her, hit her with the power of a freight train.
Raven wanted to take her.
Those words repeated in her mind over and over like a broken recording, each time striking at her psyche harder and harder.
"Raven wanted me…" Yang mouthed out, before staring at her father. "And you...kept me from her?"
This however seemed to hit the wrong string as Taiyang frowned.
"I did what?" He looked over Yang though glaring she could see the pain she had inflicted upon him in his eyes. "Listen here; You mother she….she loved you. However even after all this time, after all the battles and times with STRQ she had missed her tribe, missed her 'family'. And while I understood her plight I tried everything to make her feel comfortable, everything to support her and aid her."
"But when she told me she was going to leave everything behind; that means Qrow, Me, Summer, Vale, the other Huntsmen to join a gang of damned thugs who kill, pillage and raid towns and lead them to their doom with our daughter; I put my foot down. I wasn't going to let my little girl have that kind of life!"
"B-But why didn't you talk her out of it!" Yang stood up and pointed a finger at him. "Why did you just let her leave?!"
"I tried everything, Yang." His voice soften from his harsher tone earlier and she could hear the pain in it. "Me, Summer, and Qrow tried everything! But she wouldn't hear any of it, refused to even acknowledge it, hell Qrow was even ready to report both himself and her to the Cops just to keep her from rejoining, but we had to talk him out. In the end, she was stubborn as a mule; she was going to leave whether it was with you or not."
"You could maybe…" Her tone wasn't so much as hostile as desperate, her brain racking for any sorts of options. "Gone with her!"
"And become a Bandit?" Tai's eyes widen. " I loved your Mother, Yang. I really did because despite her upbringing she had become a great person and someone I shared a close bond. I tried everything to pull her out of that kind of life, to show her that she doesn't need to live the kind of life she had! I never intended on getting dragged into the kind of life, especially not to raise you alongside criminals!"
"I-It.." Tears began to flow out of her eyes. "It wasn't your choice to make!"
"Like hell, it wasn't!" Taiyang snapped. "I am your father, Yang Xiao Long! I wasn't going to put my own flesh and blood in danger around a group of people who murder and rob innocents for a living! It's why I always tried to tell you to never go after her; because the people she lives with are dangerous."
As soon as these words left his mouth it was as though a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, he took long and heavy breaths as Yang stood there, her once strong and confident form shaking as tears rolled down her cheeks. Taiyang let out one final deep breath and walked over to his Sunny dragon, wrapping her in a tight hug as he left her sob in his chest.
"Your mother used to be a great Huntress…" Taiyang spoke in a somber tone. "However the emphasis on used…"
Her mom was a Bandit.
A Scummy, lawless, hostile Bandit.
Not just that but her Dad kept that from her…
She understood why, but after he told her she needed to get away from him, needed to be alone. The next day she gave her goodbyes to him and left; they had both tried to be as heartfelt as possible but she...felt betrayed.
Now a few weeks since that she had enough time to mull it over, to think things through. She couldn't blame her father; not fully.
She still thought he should have told her earlier but…
He loved her.
Her mom maybe loved her; Dad thinks so but she wasn't so sure, because even if she was in the Tribe it wouldn't hurt to take a look at your kid from time to time. Her Dad on the other hand had always been at Ruby and her side. He did have that one phase after Summer's death where she remembers very clearly when he'd drink himself to sleep and just felt dead inside but after Qrow saved them from Yang's little adventure to look for Raven, he straightened up and did his best to support them both.
Yang felt a faint smile forming despite the tears; she really took him for granted huh.
Regardless at the end of the day, Raven had offered her a tribe of misfits and a life of crime, while Her Dad offered her a Home and Family. And now as she was Travelling across the sea to Anima to find Raven he was on Patch, all while her dad stayed behind on patch.
Alone.
Vulnerable.
Sure her dad was a veteran huntsman, one of the best in the whole of Remnant, but what if Adam attacked? What if the White Fang were looking for her trying to finish her off? What if Adam and a group of them attacked in the middle of the night, dragged him outside an-
Nope.
She rose from her bed, her arm trembling.
She put on a shirt, jacket, and sports pants before leaving her cabin and locking it.
She needed some fresh air.
Hey guys, its ya boy again!
Here's Chapter 7, one of the harder ones to write. Those who may be a filthy boomer like me might remember the old Miracle of Sound song "Wasteland Soul." The Song was both the namesake of this fanfic, but also the inspiration on how I see and play Fallout 3. Its a nice song, and I recommend anyone listening to it once.
Other thing about this chapter was the Apethy battle. I'll be transparent with you guys; I changed it just an hour ago. The Original battle was much shorter and would have involved the Wanderer resisting the screech since he'd be perceptive enough to understand its a trick and just get mad. However, I felt that way lazy and would just make the Wanderer seem weirdly powerful. Now there's a mix of religious imagery and the idea is that the wanderer isn't just strong physically but also strong in "the heart".
Now for those wondering; no the Wanderer's issues that were presented in the last chapter have NOT been resolved; this is more of an explanation as to why he keeps going. As for those wondering if he was tripping, well its said that when people are close to dying they tend to see the world differently. Thats basically it.
Now onto the reviews.
nantono: soon my guy, I can confirm that the story really starts by chapter 10; right now all of this is a prologue/setup. Why do you think we still don't know the Lone Wanderer's true name?
ChroniclerofChaos07: I mean Country Roads and Wouldn't be nice are technically Vietnam-era songs, so with that door opened, it would be stupid not to use some of em. Hell I use this mod called "Nam Radio" for fallout 4, and let me tell you; Attacking fort Strong in a suit of power armor from vertibird hits differently when "Sympathy for the devil" plays. So there's gonna be plenty more songs of that era.
Spenge: based.
selfishgecko: Its gonna be revealed in time, though I DID technically already say what happened in a previous chapter; its just hidden in behind metaphores. Regardless I don't wanna rush what happened so soon because its a traumatic experience, and while this fanfic may have a lot of action, one of the core themes is how a person deals with Trauma, and how it never really goes away but can be lessened through support finding strength in others and yourself.
Kriegy50: Yeah...
Blaze1992: You're not wrong.
ODSTFRymann: Thanks. And before you ask, while he may have not fallen to his demons in this chapter, the thing that makes our personal demons horrible is that they never leave you. They are always there in the back of your mind whispering and causing doubt. They can never be destroyed, only held back. However it takes true strength to fight back, and that strength is the one that makes us heroes.
ISuckM8: Lol. I know a lot of people use that and I didn't do it because I want a somewhat more "realistic" take on Fallout. It's also why I didn't use the pip-boy materializing shit here and there, since its only a gameplay feature and the idea that a society like fallout can materialize entire weapons and shit and store em in a computer is uhh...odd. So I went for the duffle bag instead. Not as "realistic" as other ideas but it's better than him just pulling out a gun out of thin air.
Si Vis Pacem: oh well that's good to hear then! The Capital Wasteland was probably the most unstable "Wasteland" barring the Madre and Divide we've visited. Due to the number of nukes, it could never truly recover like the others and was stuck being unstable for the longest of time. So all things considered; it is any wonder the Wanderer is such a mess?
Guest 1: Same, though I still hope they keep it somewhat from the 30s-70s, because as much as I love the 80s, I don't think anything after the 70s will still fit. besides you can also make the joke that the reason the songs end in the 70s' is cause the world ended in 2077.
LordofFlames: Dear Hearts and Gentle People is definitely a great song and holds some connection of the wanderer, but honestly? "I don't want to set the world on fire" is the one most fitting with the Capital setting and the one that became Fallout's most familiar song for a long time. Though it's either that song of ironically Dion's "The Wanderer" which unfortunatly only appeared in Fallout 4.
Guest 2: After all the pain they went through, is it any wonder? As for Vol 9, I'm not sure where I'm gonna take it. Wanna see if the volume is good first before I set something up. Looking forward to watching it tho.
Anyways that's all for now my guys! Cya next chapter!