War, War never changes.
"What the ever living fuck?"
Bad luck, (or possibly good) you have been chosen.
"For what!?" I shouted with anger in my voice.
To see if an slightly above average slub can survive the Wasteland.
"Wasteland? Slighty above average? Go fuck yourself, Disembody-Words."
The Wasteland. The Commonwealth. A year before the Sole Survivor awakens.
"As in the buggy-ass, sometimes still enjoyable, but always deadly game series?"
Yes.
"Just kill me now. It'd probably be more painless."
I apologise, I did not peg you for a quitter.
"Excuse me? I ain't a quitter." I grounded out with gritted teeth, "But when the odds are stacked against me."
You quit, as it seems.
"Ohhhhhh, fuck you."
…
"Fine! Send me to my death." Not like I have much of a choice, being stuck in an endless void, or dying quick in a game series.
You will be sent without some adjustments.
"Adjustments? What are we talking here?"
Points: 100
-Race
-Gender
-Background
-Location
-Perks
-Mutations
-Gear: Weapons, Armour, Other
-Optional changes to world [No matter the changes, the worlds history will be the same as canon, just accommodating of the changes.]
-Companions
"Is this a fucking choose your own adventure game?" Plus I wouldn't exactly fit into above average anymore, but I wasn't going to point that out aloud.
You know I am tiring of your cursing? No, more.
"What the flip?" Oh no, "Flip, Cant, Spit."
Now, do you wish to continue to test my patients, and lose possible boons that will aid your adventure, or will you wish to die as an ill prepared fool.
"...Fine." I gritted out, and dove into what I was being offered.
"Here. I'm done." I said after double checking my options and calculating what I could take and what would be useful, whilst also sprinkling a little something for me, because if I have to live in this world, I'll get something out of it.
Race:
Courser: They've got the same body "type" as Generation 3 Synths, but at a much higher level. A Courser is faster, stronger, can take more of a beating, is more perceptive and processes information faster, but they're still "human", meaning they still have the same needs as a human. These needs are lessened heavily, however, even in comparison to other Gen 3 Synths, and their resistance to radiation and disease has become an outright immunity (10).
Gender:
Stay as is (0).
Background:
Drop In: You have no new memories or history in this world, giving you a clean slate. You don't have any obligations either, but the Minutemen are always looking for new members… (Options that reference past events such as choosing to become a Synth or Super Mutant do not give you any additional memories, despite what their description might say. You instead just appear with whatever changes have been made or skills that you've purchased) (0).
Location: Red Rocket truck stop (0). Stop settlers from settling at your homestead without permission, while strongly warding off threats from finding it (10). The location has been decked out with basic arrangement, walls, defences, and water supply (5). A decontamination shower with a endless bathing water supply (2).
Perks:
Crafter: You're good at putting things together in creative and innovative ways,and you're capable of quickly assembling things that are simply made. You'd be an invaluable asset for any fledgling settlement, if it survives long enough (5).
Commando: You have advanced knowledge of conventional firearms, as well as most energy and explosive weapons that you might find in the Wasteland. You also keep your cool in combat, letting you apply your knowledge with extreme prejudice (3).
Adamantium Skeleton: As a Courser, you exoskeleton is made an unidentified metal. Making you a one man squad (5).
Wasteland M.D.: You're a doctor, not a dental nurse- you can fix most common wasteland ailments, barring death. Radiation, illness, addictions, big gaping bullet holes and broken bones can be healed with your gentle touch well, and all those years of something that might be generously called medical school, as well as a few painkillers, some bandages, maybe some other things like sterile medical equipment but who's counting? (5).
Charmer: You're attractive, quite a few heads turn when you enter a room. You've also got a way with words that put most people at ease, letting you convince or lie to others easier. Too much use of this might cause others to hate or distrust you- or worse, they'll stop giving you discounts! (3).
Restless: Be it running, staving off sleep, or loving making, you never tire to exhaustion (5).
Healing factor: Does what it says on the tin, you heal faster than normal for whatever race you are, for synths, your 'flesh' returns if damaged (5).
Mechanist: You know what makes robots tick… or beep. Not only can you repair and create them from scratch, but you can also cobble them together, creating some sort of robotic Frankenstein's Monster that's loyal to you and you alone while also incorporating all of the best components of the robots it's made from (5).
Mutations:
Gigantism: Due to exposure to radiation, you've increased greatly in terms of size and muscle mass. If you're a human, or ghoul, you're now about the size of a Super Mutant and are about as strong as they are, while still being noticeably a human or ghoul; Synths might just be constructed bigger (3).
?: Take a random mutation, may be good, may be bad, may be dull (0), nixing the chance of getting a detrimental mutation (3).
Gear:
Starting Gear: You get faction appropriate clothing (normal clothes for Drop Ins) and your choice of a 10mm pistol, brass knuckles, a security baton, a machete, or a laser pistol (regular or Institute), as well as 100 Caps (0).
Radio Stations: On any radio that you own, you're capable of tuning into Diamond City Radio, a station run by Travis Miles, a nervous young man lacking confidence, or to "Raider Radio", which is run by Red eye, a boastful, compulsive liar. Diamond City Radio plays pre-War (1930s-1960s) music, with a few original songs from Magnolia, a singer from Goodneighbor, while Raider Radio only plays songs produced and played by Red eye on his guitar. They also commentate on your actions, as well as other important happenings in the rest of the world to a smaller extent (0).
A diluted injection of F.E.V.: A vat of Forced Evolutionary Virus, developed by the Pre-War government in their attempts to create super-soldiers. This vat seems to have belonged to the Institute. Those who are injected with it have their inside transform rapidly, gaining refined tone muscle, and durability (1)
Broad sword: A simple sword suited to your size (1). An unearthly feeling comes of the sword, those that have survived but been injured by said sword, swear that they feel the wound slowing eating away at their flesh with a searing pain (2).
.44 pistol: The .44 pistol is a double-action revolver, chambered in the .44 Magnum cartridge (1) Shots from this piece are explosive, despite being loaded with regular .44's (2).
Optional changes to world:
Screw like it's the end of the world: People have looser hung ups about sex, because of the dire situation of the world around them and their short life expectancy, some changes to the world, and even breeds that have never exist in canon will here (10).
Genderbent: Random canon characters have had their genders swapped (5).
Modded World: Putting it up to fate, you may encounter beings you know to be out of this realm, or changes you weren't expecting, good or bad its out of your control (5).
Companions:
Ada: Ada is an AI in a modified Assaultron body. She was created by Jackson and travelled with his caravan, which specialized in mechanical repairs and trade, throughout the Commonwealth. However the caravan were slaughtered, by a mysterious band enemy robots. (4)
If that is all done and you are you all ready, shall you be off?
"Yep, no use lingering and double guessing myself."
Very well. Good luck young one.
"Peace out."
A/N Published- 2023/07/04
So the few who are familiar with crap I put out here, I'm trying to write something different than what I normal churn out, as sort of creative exercise.