The ground was still muddy, the rain of the night having reached deeply into the soil, with wet leaves scattered across the area but usually sticking close to roots. Yet faint steam rose from the ground as the coldness of the storm was washed away by the incoming warmth.
Birds chirped their morning song, proud and happy to have survived last night's storm. Alongside them, distant Deer howled their songs and distant streams shrilled. While this happened, beams of mandarin pierced the treeline, illuminating the previous dark woods from last night.
It was a fresh and mighty morning in the woods.
Yet what sounded off to most creatures native to the woods were the distant songs playing from an old Pip-boy radio. Stomping through a faint path the Winterized T-51F suit was a fish out of water. Everything about it contrasted with the setting, from the bright white plates sticking out of the woods, to the mechanical stomping or the fact that Louis Jordan - Keep a Knockin was blasting from the radio speaker.
The Wanderer couldn't care less as he glanced at the fantastical nature before him from behind the helmet. It was wonderous really; one second he feels his paranoia flaring up and is ready to pump anyone who would get close to him with 308.s and the other he's gazing upon a majestic view.
He had heard from a few people that West Virginia was similar yet had been nuked a few years after the bombs. Regardless he had to keep going, his pip-boy screen flashing in his HUD. Before arriving in this place, he had the mothership make a map for his pip-boy so he could navigate easier. Using that and Dogmeat's nose he was trying to pick up the trail.
"Come on boy!" The Wanderer scanned the treeline. "Find the scent!"
Dogmeat replied with two barks and went back to sniffing.
The main traces such as wheel prints were gone but just by using Dogmeat's nose, they managed to find the basic direction where the Bandits went. Looking back at the map around twenty Km from his position he'd come across an older road that would lead to the main roads which would go either to the west coast or towards the large city on the east.
Considering that they were moving West, the plan was to get to the road and make his way further west and find the closest town. Then from there, he'd ask for nearby bandit rumors. if he's lucky he'd find his targets and wipe them to the last. If not he's just gonna keep looking until he finds something.
Unless Dogmeat picks up the trail in another direction that is.
The Gauss rifle was up, the scope glistening in the morning dew. His feet crushed the dirt, leaves, and sticks as he marched through the woods, his strides somewhat relaxed. Grimm or not this place was better than the Capital Wasteland.
The Capital Wasteland.
His mood soured instantly, as though an old wound had been reopened.
Those fuckers, those goddamned motherfuckers; he became a scourge to the Raiders, caused a dent in the Super Mutant population, saved Settlements on a daily basis, and most importantly literally entered an irradiated chamber to try and stop a meltdown and bring clean water to the wastes.
And what does he get? A knife to the back!
Betrayal by those he called his brothers and sisters.
Betrayal by those he considered his new family.
Those he had bled, sweated, and fought alongside.
Vivid images flashed in his mind; bright lights flashed past him from laser and plasma fire from all around. Tall figures of Yellow standing proud and firing back with lead and thunder. A Lion and his knights stood against the titans and fought them with their might and honor.
"AMBUSH!"
Steel turned on Steel as nuclear fire washed over the Lion and scorched him. The King of the Jungle defended itself against the knights it once trusted but it was crippled.
"CHARON! NO!"
Two rooks stood by the Lion's side and defended it, but then came the crimson striders who with lance and fire aided the knights in their conquest.
"You shouldn't have survived, boy."
The Lion was now alone and surrounded. Knights pointed their spears at its bleeding form as it was struggling to snarl and roar.
"How could you do this?!"
Yet the Lion's rage faded as the situation was clear. It whined wondering what it did wrong, why the Knights which once stood by its side and swore their loyalty to it would turn on it.
"For Roger Maxson, you local piece of shit."
In its last moments, it understood that the knight in shining armor, wore the armor to hide its rotten and maggot-infested body from the world. Because if the world knew how it truly was then they would be shunned and hated. The Lion, however, would have found out, and therefore had to be taken care of. For a Noble beast is still a Beast.
And Beast are put down.
Flashes of the fresh past growled at the back of his mind, bitterness seeping into his heart.
He needed something to vent on. He needed something to kill. After all, killing was the only thing he seemed to be great at. Not like he wanted it to be, oh no. His dream had always been engineering and robotics back in the Vault. But destiny fucked him over and he ended up becoming a bringer of war.
That's the funny part; even though he tried as hard as possible to get the best outcome; to save as many people and to help those in need, all he managed to do was just cause more death. And the worst part; He killed more people than he saved.
Dogmeat whined, the metaphorical raincloud hanging over the Wanderer was clear even to the Hound. The Wanderer let out a sigh as he continued onwards, his thoughts filled with zeal and rage, as crimson eyes observed him from afar.
The truck came to a halt as they passed the gate. Raven jumped out of the front seat, Vernal close to the woman as they strode through the main camp. Several of the bandits who stayed could only look past their leader, towards the raiding party which was missing more than the half they had left with and carrying injured.
The Woman made it towards the tent and slapped the covers off, entering it. She motioned to Vernal, the girl nodding and leaving her Leader to herself. The Ex-huntress scanned her room, the warmth of the lanter to her left gave it a certain coziness she wouldn't expect.
To her right was a bed; a decent one they had stolen from an Atlasian shipment. Though she had grown up with her brother sleeping on dirty mattresses and the cold ground, after her days as a Huntress and living with Tai she had unfortunatly developed some comforts. So when they found a good and comfortable Bed during a raid, she called dibs on it.
Being a leader had its perks after all.
And after that disaster, she really did need a break.
Taking off her gauntlets and helmet she simply dropped them to the ground, too tired to care. next were her hip plates and boots which she placed near her sword in a chest. With those down she crashed into the bed, a cat-like groan escaping her.
"I missed you." She whispered as she hugged a pillow close to her.
The magic and power she had needed to summon a storm of that magnitude had...drained her. That plus the fact that she didn't sleep for almost two days, too focused on keeping her panicking men under control, made the bed a sight for sore eyes.
Alas her eyes closed, her mind going to rest as she could finally relax…
"RAVEN!"
Bloodshot orbs snapped open, and the rage of a thousand suns burned through the Bandit leader's mind. With the speed of a tiger, she rose back to her feet, Omen in hand. She stomped towards the entrance of her tent and yanked the cloth out of her way.
There standing was one of her subordinates, a tall brute of a man. She didn't remember his name right now but she did know he was one of the guys she told to stay and guard the camp while they went raiding.
"What the hell happened out there?!" The Brute yelled oblivious to his leader's mood. "Why are the-"
Omen was swung, and his head flopped off, landing several feet away as a fountain of blood shot from the crashing corpse. Now the rest of the Clan were staring at her, remembering why she was the one in charge.
"I warned you bastards to NEVER disturb me when I'm resting." She spat on the corpse and braced the sword over her shoulder. "I'm going back inside; any of you think about bothering me, you know what's coming."
She turned back to the tent and threw Omen towards the chest, about to go towards her bed when she noticed it.
Blood had splattered against her clothes.
And she really didn't want to dirty her bed.
Growling she tore her shirt off and threw it towards a chair, exposing her bandaged-covered chest. She had spare shirts, so she didn't give a rat's ass about having just torn the clothes apart. She crashed back into her bed, intending on resting.
However, before she would sleep she needed to set up a timer on her scroll; she needed information about the Relic and if it had fallen into the hands of the witch. And regardless of how she felt about Ozpin's little helper, she did owe her brother a yearly talk.
It was just annoying that it had to happen today.
She groaned and placed a pillow on her face. She really did hope the storm took care of the white fool, and if he did survive though she admired his strength, she could not let a threat like that follow her.
A grunt escaped her lips; was she being paranoid? She left the man by himself to fend off a hoard of Grimm, surely he was dead. Not even an expert huntsman could have survived that. Her gut however told her that the assailant had survived, that they had survived both the Grimm and the Storm.
That he's coming.
The Wanderer did as his namesake and brushed past another bush, Dogmeat close by. The chirping wasn't as loud as it had been in the dawn when he marched through, though it was still a lingering backdrop of birds and winds through the forest.
The smell of pine and nuts were masked by the helmet's filters through the Wanderer did enjoy the freshness of the air on this planet. Activating the map function he calculated his destination, frustration rising slightly when he noticed he only made it halfway to the road.
It's been hours of Wandering and nothing happened.
Sure the scenery was glorious, but sitting back and enjoying himself wasn't exactly what he had in mind. He'd rather hunt down and exterminate human garbage.
Jesus fucking christ of course the bandits had cars on this god-forsaken world. At least back home everyone having to travel by foot made hunting down raiders much easier, but now?
They could be all over the place. But it doesn't matter, because as he had stated before; they could run but they couldn't hide. God willing; they would not escape his righteous wrath.
Still, as he marched through the overgrown path, he felt his instincts flaring up slightly. He didn't know why but even though both his pip-boy and Dogmeat didn't pick up anything, he still felt as though something was stalking him.
Call it a gut feeling.
Maybe the Grimm lacked a smell? Which is why Dogmeat couldn't smell them? Or was it something else that was masking their odor and stealthily making its way towards him? Regardless of what it is, they would not live long if they make contact with him.
His head turned back to the road, though the mud had begun drying for a few hours, the path was hard to search through. Though there were signs of cars and trucks having driven through, they were harder to make out now that there were no wheel marks on the ground.
What there was however was the fact that there were plenty of bushes that had been broken and damaged; a large trail of dirt in an area mainly made of grass and such things. Though the storm had slowed him down, he could make it out decently.
With renewed vigor he marched onward, his M1 Garand "Ol Painless" in hand and eyes scanning through the tree line. He turned on one of the recordings he had from GNR, from like a year ago before that west coast Paladin by the name "Storyteller" gave Three Dog some new songs.
In olden days, a glimpse of stocking Was looked on as something shocking.
But now, God knows, Anything goes.
A faint smile formed behind the helm as a thin sense of nostalgia hit him. Though he focused around himself, each tree though beautiful was also a hiding place for any beast or bandit asshole, so he stayed frosty. It's how he survived point lookout, it's how he's gonna survive this place.
And this place though infested with giant shadow monsters had nothing on the shitholes he visited in the past. He'd like to see the Grimm compete with the likes of Mirelurks, Deathclaws, and Super Mutants. And if it's not the critters it's the dry heat, radiation, and lack of food.
Still from what he's seen from Zeta, Remnant had a desert on the western continent and an icy tundra to the north, so he may be speaking out of experienced arrogance. Still, the fact that several towns and such managed to survive in the creature-infested world was strange.
Especially since they lacked defenses compared to back home.
That's not even an exaggeration; several of the towns he went through lacked even basic surrounding walls. It was like the pre-war towns open and exposed however whereas pre-war America didn't have to deal with hoards of soulless monsters (except for commies), this one did. And though they did have guards most of them were under-equipped, usually armed with basic flak vests and semi-automatic rifles.
From what he had to guess it was because this society placed their trust in 'Huntsmen'.
A cold chuckle escaped him, as they passed birch.
Where to begin…
Highly specialized mercenaries that tend to lack any sort of special heavy weapons, relying on gimmick weapons instead of efficient tactical ones, with a high mortality rate which is ridiculous as from what he understood a lot of them to tend to be trained from a young age. They tend to dress like goddamned clowns, jump around like crazy and rely on their magic shields while fighting the armies of darkness.
However due to this most nations except for the one in the north have no standing armies; meaning that most of the issues are to be solved by these huntsmen who are already limited by the fact that the training cost is high and so was the mortality rate, meaning they are stretched thin.
It was a disaster waiting to happen, and from what he's understood it already did.
Some villager in the south mentioned some Festival where it all went to shit, though details were muddied as something called the CCT had gone dark, destroying international communications.
Still, if he had to guess he already met two huntsmen.
One was back in the village he had saved, where he had been busy fighting off several bandits at once. And though he may be efficient he looked as though he was slowly losing stamina. However, at least that guy had worn some form of armor, even if it didn't look that impressive.
The other one though…
Heat surrounded him, its form faint as his polymer plates covered him from the blazing background. The ground was rough, a field of cobblestone and gravel crunching beneath his feet as he made his way towards his victim. Moans and groans filled the air as tents and wooden houses were crackling and crisping, an odd scream of agony popping up once or twice, as motionless figures were scattered across the place. A faint metallic fog and aroma of barbecue were like a thick layer of smog; the only thing keeping it away from overwhelming him was his helmet's filter.
Laying on the ground, shuffling back and tears running down their face was his query; a clown of a man wearing some bright red coat, with a blond bowl-cut and wearing some 'stylish' clothes under the coat. His coat was in tatters, his left leg was broken and his weapon, some kind of revolver that turned into a pair of daggers, were embedded into his shoulders.
"P-Please man, I'll stop the raids! I-I'll change, I-"
He loomed over the worm, his glare piercing through the bastard's soul.
"What's the matter?"
Gehenna was pulled out, the sword's flames making the Bandit's eyes shrink
"Can't stand the sight of your own blood?"
...Wouldn't be a problem anymore...for anyone.
Making their way through the lush trail, the Lone Wanderer and his Dog eventually made it to a clearing; a large stone sticking out from the ground like a spear piercing through the ground at the center. Alarms flared at the back of The Wanderer's mind; this was perfect for an ambush. He raised Ol Painless up, before turning off the music.
He scanned his surroundings, his nerves on high alert looking for any sort of irregularity in the landscape of green. His fingers tapped against the trigger, waiting for anything to show its ugly mug and have it blasted off. Dogmeat's growling confirmed the Wanderer's suspicions.
That's when he heard it.
One of the trees to his side, buckled and a large form jumped at him howling. Grunting the Wanderer jumped back, letting the creature miss its mark but causing a dust cloud to obscure its form. The Wanderer was tall; even without his suit of power armor, yet the monster towered over him.
Humanoid, bulging muscles, and black skin; the Beringel howled and began pounding its chest. There was no hesitation when the power-armored finger pulled the trigger eight times, the Garand making its familiar PING as the clip popped off.
The first two rounds crashed into its chest, bursting inside yet not deep enough, the third round slammed into its left shoulder with the fourth and fifth blasting into its arm and neck. The sixth and seventh crashed into its torso yet this time blasting through it and the final one cracked a side of its skull, blinding it in the right eye.
Dogmeat blindsided the Grimm and went for its throat; sharp teeth tearing through the thick hide and black flesh. The Beringel fell backward, too confused at the brutal retaliation coming from the Hound. Dogmeat extinguished its life via Bite to the skull, putting the gorilla down.
With the Grimm dead, the Wanderer raised the rifle up, his hand reaching for another clip. Unfortunatly, another Beringel slammed into him and he was thrown off guard, dropping the rifle, crashing into the stone, and cracking it slightly. As he was leaning back up, his arm when to his hip, and a slot opened up, revealing the 10-mm Revolver "Old Boy".
He aimed at the charging Ape and fired several rounds. Though they did seem to hurt the creature, the damage wasn't as effective as 308. rounds and it only stunned him. Instead of reloading he threw the pistol at the creature's face and grabbed the Combat Knife "Stabhappy" from near his hip. The gun crashed into the Beringel's face causing it to clutch it. With all of his force, the Wanderer slammed with a shoulder check into the Grimm, ramming straight into its gut.
As it fell onto its back, the Wanderer jumped on top of it and began stabbing it repeatedly. Though most stabs barely did anything to the chest, the second they went to the neck, the creature died easy enough. Rising from the disintegrating monster, he turned, finding Dogmeat running towards him, the Garand between its teeth.
The Wanderer gripped the gun and slammed another clip into it, but not before placing the gun on his back. He could hear more of the bastards coming, and he was sure the Garand wasn't going to be enough if it took an entire clip to take down the King-Kong wannabes.
Yanking the bag he had the hound carrying he looked in it, grabbing the Xulong Assault Rifle and loading a clip of AP rounds into it before turning towards where the nearest Ape was coming.
The second he saw the lumbering form arriving he pulled the trigger letting a burst of 5.56 rounds fly. The rounds flew and crashed into the Grimm, causing the monster to yell and trip as it flew out of the bush and crashed into the clearing. A few more rounds were shot aimed at its skull yet it rose back to its feet and charged. Dogmeat went for the Ape's side and bit into its heel, causing it to grunt yet ignore the dog as it dragged him with it.
More rounds were shot until a click caused the Wanderer to swear. His hand went towards his back yet the Beringel closed the distance and punched the Wanderer. The Armor held yet he was still flung away despite the frame's weight. Dogmeat let go of the heel and jumped at its throat yet missed. The gorilla slammed its hands at the Dog, but Dogmeat sidestepped the attack and barked aggressively.
Growling he now pulled back Ol Painless and unloaded the entire clip into the Grimm. It shrugged off the first few shots but was killed by the sixth one taking its lower jaw off and the seventh blasting its brain open. Tossing the rifle away he rushed to the bag again, bullets being not as effective as he had hoped with the Apes.
And more were coming.
His arm went to the bag and he pulled out the MPLX Novasurge; A prototype Plasma Defender Glock 86 that burned hotter than the devil's asshole. A Beringel shot from the foliage and made a mad dash b-line at the winterized wanderer.
"Eat Plasma you damned dirty ape!"
The aim was taken, the trigger was pulled and the hot ball of green burst through the exit before slamming into the Grimm. Unlike last time the Plasma burned and melted a big hole into the monster; causing it to fall backward and scream. Another shot was taken and its body melted to a puddle of neon.
Picking up his gauss rifle with one hand from the bag, he charged a shot and then aimed at another Grimm while blasting another one with the Novasurge. The Gauss shot a large hole through another Ape and the Plasma pistol was causing plasma puddles left and right.
As the last Beringel crashed backward the last thing it saw was the Gauss Rifle being aimed at it and then nothing.
With the Hostiles cleared, The Wanderer glanced at the warzone he had created. Around ten of these bastards tried to rush him; if he hadn't gone for the energy weapons they probably would have crushed his body into pulp.
Good thing he had power armor, eh?
After a while he whistled at Dogmeat to go grab the weapons he had dropped and bring them to him; He still had a bandit to kill and this little side quest had gone for far too long.
Higanbana wasn't where Raven had thought she'd end up finding her fool of a brother, though she couldn't exactly blame him. He had been tailing Summer's brat and her group of friends since Patch, so it was probably Tai who put him up to it...or Ozpin.
Amidst the drunken laughter, clanging of glasses, and discussions, she sat at the top floor, alone at a wooden table, Omen next to her and helmet on the table. Her thoughts filled with the current questions that she had from after the fall of Beacon and after that...incident from a few days ago.
For instance, it made her glad it was Shion that she raided instead of this village; regardless of how she felt about Qrow and Summer's brat, she didn't exactly want to harm them for no reason. They were as much as she hated to admit it, family.
Still, she had told the Waitress to get Qrow a glass of bottom-shelf liquor; an old code signal they had used from back when she still followed that bastard Ozpin. And sure enough, she saw him stride his way up the stairs; drink in hand with his familiar slouch. Her younger brother; an embarrassment to the clan and a weakling.
Qrow saw her from across the floor and raised an eyebrow.
"You look like shit."
Her facade nearly broke; he just HAD to kick her when she was down, had he? He HAD to mention how regardless of much she had slept she still had dark rings under her eyes. Or how she barely got dressed and forgot to put some pieces of her armor. Or how she wasn't able to do her hair?
What a lovely brother to have.
"Hello brother," she spoke with an exaggerated friendly tone.
Qrow rolled his eyes, a faint smirk over his face. He walked up towards her and placed a hand on the chair. His eyes wandered over her attire and a small snort escaped him before he sat down. He leaned back into the chair, the glass placed next to her helmet.
"So.." he began, his finger tapping at his glass. "Heard you got your ass kicked."
Though at the exterior she merely glared at her brother internally she was boiling. Her hand was clenched and it took all of her willpower to not blast her surroundings with magic. A sigh escaped her and she forced another friendly smile.
"Why Qrow, I have no idea what you could possibly be mentioning..."
"Ha!" her brother slapped his knee. "Yeah sure, Ignore that metaphorical rake that you stepped into Raven; I'm sure that fractured ego of yours enjoys ignoring what happened while you're coping about Shion."
She loomed closer towards Qrow; murder clear in her eyes.
"I think you're stepping into dangerous territory little brother." her hand slowly making its way towards Omen. "We don't want to cause a scene, do we?"
"And you're getting mad!" A chuckle escaped him and he took a sip from his drink. "Last time I saw you this bitter was back in Beacon when Summer first beat you in a spar."
The mention of that time made Raven freeze, her mind falling deep into conflict. The humiliation of that day should have made that inferno currently residing in her burn even harder; break the dam and consume everything...and yet it reminded her of another time.
An Ignorant time, but one where she was still blissfully unaware of the major powers; when all that mattered were her team, becoming stronger and living a better life than the one she and Qrow had prior to the Huntsman Academy. Her arm stopped before Omen's grip and she sighed before placing it back on the table.
She turned her eyes towards Qrow, drilling into his.
"I need information."
"Oh, do you now?" Qrow raised an eyebrow and wiggled his finger around the glass' rim. "Wonder about what. Maybe how Yang is doing? Or Tai?"
"Dammit, Qrow that's no-"
"Well, it should!" He pointed a finger at her. "Yang lost her fucking arm, Tai was this close to falling into a depression again and what are you doing? Burning down fucking villages and looting them!"
He leaned back into the seat, disgust clear on his face.
"Is that all you want in life? Just raiding random villages in Anima, causing more Grimm attacks, and sleep in the freaking woods like a bunch of vagabonds when you have Tai and Yang waiting for you back home wondering where and why you left?!"
Qrow glared at her.
"Don't you care about them?"
Raven hissed, her arm nearly shooting back towards Omen. How dare he! How dare that little insignificant bastard talk to her like that! Imply such things! What did he know about what was going on?! About Ozpin! Nothing; he followed that old bastard like a good little puppy, while she had seen the truth!
And she did care about Yang and Tai! She DID care about them! It's just…
It's just…
It's just...
Dread haunted the back of her mind, its slimy tentacles wrapping around her appendages and dragging her into the deep pits of self-doubt, and hate. She turned her back towards her brother and with a determined stare answered.
"I saved her life."
Qrow let out a snort.
"Once." He pressed his finger at the table. "Because that's your rule, right? Real mom of the year material..."
His hand went towards his glass, yet Raven's shot up and grasped her brothers. Crimson orbs reflected one another, as they both glared. Raven took a deep breath, her mind counting down to five, and exhaled.
"I told you that Beacon would fall and it did." She didn't let go. "I told you Ozpin would fail and he did." She violently let go of his hand, nearly slamming it on the table. "So stop acting like a condescending bastard for at least a minute and let me talk."
Qrow leaned back into his seat and pinched his brow.
"Alright then, suppose we stalled enough."
Finally.
"So then, what do you need?" Qrow crossed his arms.
"The relic." Raven stared at her Brother. "Does she have it?"
A breath escaped Qrow, as he glanced at Raven.
"Why do you need to know that?"
"If you don't wanna tell me then stop wasting my time a leave me, just like you left the Tribe." Raven snarled.
"First of all; The 'Tribe' are a bunch of murderers and thieves. I get that they raised us, but you should know better." Qrow's eyes narrowed. "Secondly I thought you wanted to talk."
"Just Answer the question."
Qrow's eyes rolled and he took a sip.
"From my understanding, she doesn't have it." Her brother smirked. "Lucky you."
The bandit leader huffed, looking away from Qrow. Still, that was good to know; if the witch didn't have the relic that means that her Tribe could still prosper and there was still a chance.
Now onto the real meat.
"Alright, that's good." She nodded and turned back to Qrow. "For my-"
"Ah ah ah, hold your horses' dear sis." Her brother's finger was pointed at her. "The Spring Maiden; Where is she?"
Crap
"I have no idea."
"Cut the crap, Raven." His hand clenched around the Glass. "I saw Shion, talked to the people there, I saw the damage; Lighting coming out of nowhere? On a stormless night? Then followed up by a massive rainstorm that passes conveniently towards where the tribe always lives as if someone was trying to cover their tracks."
She hated when he was too smart for his own good. Her eyes darted towards Omen again; perhaps one swing might be helpful. After all, she couldn't tell him; Ozpin and his group of deluded fools would keep pestering her, and all of that she tried to avoid would come rushing to her.
Still, if she played it smart...maybe she could play both sides to her advantage…
"She is safe," Raven spoke up.
"That's not enough for me and you know it." Qrow cut in. "Where is she."
"She is safe, that's all you need to know." Raven hissed. "Her pawns won't find her and that's the best I can tell you; however…"
And now for the bait.
"I am willing to cooperate and bring her to you once things on your end have been taken care of, and I don't have to deal with certain issues…"
Her brother gazed at her, eyebrow raised and glass in his mouth. A sip was taken as he still kept his vision on her, looking for an outline or tick she displayed after what she told him. The glass was put down and it was empty. She saw how his arms went towards the table ready to rise.
"Waitress!" Raven called downstairs. "Another glass for this fine gentleman here…"
Qrow stopped, turning back towards Raven who was still staring at him. He sighed and leaned back down as the cute waitress brought him another glass and winked at him. He smirked at her, returning the wink. He took a swig and grinned at Raven.
"That desperate, eh?" a snigger escaped him. "Alright, guess it's better than nothing."
"Now then." Her brother leaned forward. "What would you like to know."
"I need information about the Wanderer."
Last chapter I forgot to write an AN because I was focused on some class work lmao. Anyways now that its all done, here's a fun fact. A lot of the gameplay is based on a build I made in Fallout 4. Why Fallout 4 and not 3? Fallout 3 is fucking great but the power armor system is kinda dogshit and 4 has a ton of mods for it. Hell, I used a mod that turned the entire commonwealth into a forest so I can simulate the feeling of being in the remnant.
A thing some readers may have noticed is that I turned the Hunting Rifle "Ol Painless" into a M1 Garand. Why? Because in New Vegas both rifles use 308. rounds and since Bethesda LOVES that WW2/1 aesthetic (why else would they give us fallout 4's abominable """"Assult"""" rifle that is totally not a LMG and a crime against gunsmiths and jesus) I always found it odd that they didn't give a carabine or army rifle like the Garand into the game. Hell New Vegas added the "Battle Rifle" and that wasn't Beth but Obisidan, so why isn't it in Fallout 3 and 4?
Also, the fact that a hunting rifle would shoot 32. rounds is...weird.
Its a rifle that shoots basically 9mm rounds...
Regardless another change I've made is to try to turn some of the Unique weapons from Fallout 3 into OG Fallout weapons. Like the A3-21's Plasma Rifle being a P94 Plasma Rifle from Fallout Tactics and the "Terrible Shotgun" being a Pancor Jackhammer like in Fallout 2 instead of the uhh PPsh-looking Shotgun. Regardless I hope this doesn't ruin a few things for people since I love all of the games in a way but do enjoy some of the older looks.
Regardless now onto the reviews!
Nofear4231: Thank you! Glad you're enjoying it!
Kriegy50: Thanks you too! Now to respond to the first comment, Fallout 3 has a lot of mentions to the bible, with the whole spiel of Revalation 21:6 and the whole Messiah theme going on for the Wanderer. I actually took some notes from Joshua Graham and I urge everyone to look carefully at the wanderer since you may notice some parallels. As for his religious views, its gonna be elaborated on later on since he does have a complicated relationship with religion in general. However, all you need to know right now is that he believes in god and he looks to the bible for advice. As for perks, New perks that he gains will be explained/presented in the old Fallout fashion, but the perks he already has aren't going to be told outright since I felt it might ruin some of the immersion if I just gave his SPECIAL stat and perk list. Instead I'm going to introduce the perks via dialogue and action. I'm sure some of you already noticed a few of them, but just know that some may be added in future chapters and they won't always be obvious so keep your eyes out!
Astevalus: For those who don't know, me an Astevalus are friends on Discord and he's making a joke. Hell his friend was the one who made the cover for this story! So please check out his Fic "Bye Bye Love". It's got the funny cowboy man and his flying robot testicle killing Monster Girls.
Aduposki: Glad to hear that bud!
Ph0enix17: Hey dude! Sorry if I haven't been posting for a long time, lots of things I was busy with lol!
Si Vis Pacem: That's good to hear! I heard that the fic is gone which is a damned shame. I wonder why it was deleted, though I hope the Author is alright. Regardless I have to, unfortunately, say that I don't think the MSZ Crew mod will be involved. Whenever I tried to play it, it got glitchy and messy for me and well...The Wanderer isn't the type of person to make a huge fuck-off army and take on the Wastes with it using Alien Tech...that's more the Couriers thing.
Lucky Prospector: " GET BACK HERE RAVEN! RAAAAAAAAAAAAVEN! YOU CAN'T ESCAPE ME! I'LL CHASE YOU TO THE ENDS OF THE EAAAAAAAARTH!"
SilentKnightt: While that may be true, a wise man once said "We can't expect God to do all the work..." (Loads 45. Pistol) Therefore the Brothers are CRINGE. Jokes aside, there will definitely be some religious conflict but there will also be some...ambiguity. Also if anyone is wondering the reason I chose a post-vol 3 setting is that I felt that 1) the Fallout Character being stuck in beacon has been done by almost everyone and 2) I feel like the Wanderer suddenly joining a combat school would be odd. He'd not give a fuck about a "Huntsman" license and just do his own thing of blasting criminals/evildoers in the face with a 10mm. Vol 4 allows for a lot of breathing room to travel around and do his own shit.
Spatialyeti8: You should try it! Its pretty fun and was the first Fallout game for many. While Fallout NV beat it by miles, I think that many people should still play through it at least once. Hell if you really want, try Tales of two wastelands which combines the two games into one.
Guest 1 : "I'm sorry but the T51 stays on during sex."
Guest 2: I mean there's obviously gonna be a lot more depth than just "ha ha gatling laser goes BRRRR" but I do want to have some more brutal combat scenes written. That and we need more characters in power armor. Most fics that do have power armor always use it as "A last-ditch effort" or "They can't use it because it would look SUS". I say fuck that; we gonna be blasting through Anima in a suit of T51-Fuckyoshit armor and put the FEAR OF GOD into the enemy. Now there will be moments where the wanderer isn't in his suit due to A) not being able to wear it because he's in a tight spot or on a vehicle or B) doesn't feel the need to, but in the words of Boros from One-Punch-Man, when that happens its more like a "The armor that keeps my immeasurable power in check has been broken." moment.
holandia1103: TECHNICALLY he's not a ghoul. It will be explained a bit more in detail in future chapters but its more that he's a a sort of 'special' mutant. He he's not immune to radiation but can heal slightly and has some powers he gained from it. And while he does age slightly slower, its no way near the length of a normal ghoul. I guess you could call him a 'half' ghoul? Honestly, I came up with this because I always found it odd that after activating the purifier and getting a lethal dose of radiation he wasn't peeling and turning into a ghoul, but also understood it would be a bit OP for the player, so I looked for a middle ground of sorts.
Obelenko1997: I uhh...appreciate the song but why did you post this twice in the reviews? I removed the other because it was the same text dude. Still I hope you like the fic, since you seem livley.
Guest 3; I mean technically RWBY know they will have to kill people since Huntresses and Huntsmen are kinda like super cops in a way, so they'll be ready for it. However, there is a difference between killing in self defence and brutalizing the enemy and putting the fear of god into them. The Wanderer will also do some uhh...questionable actions on his enemies, though that's mostly due to his rather fucked mental state right now. At his core he's still Good Karma.
nantono: based.
ODSTFRymann: Thanks dude! I heard about that a while back and I'm a bit confused why the story is gone myself. I know it was about Six from HALO reach raising Nora and Ren. The fact that people are comparing my fic to one with a TVTropes page is very flattering. Hope the other chapters will do it justice!
Anyways that's all for tonight! its 1 AM on my end so I'm just gonna upload this page and go to bed. Cya next chapter!