G
Guest
Guest
Warning: Draft mode. I'm submitting this solely for the purpose of beta reading..and please, give me suggestions on how to make it better.
Choices
by B-pen
Well, the old bugger is dead. I can't deny that. I thought he'd never die, yaknow? After all, look at old Jules. Everybody talks downwind with him, he's got to have more alcohol than blood in his veins. He's so shrunked up, that you'd almost think that a good breeze would blow him away.
Nope. He lives on, the town greeter. He still stands by the corner across and down from the Desperado, greeting newcomers into town, and more--less making marks on who's who in town.
Hey, it keeps the casualty level down......
Anyways, old Jules said that he used to be taking drugs, this very addicting thing called Jet. "Rots you from the inside..",he said. But my Pop came to him one day and gave him this funny little brown bottle, and told him to drink it.
And lo and behold, the Jet cravings were no more.
It's kinda weird. He never expected to outlast the Padrino, he said to me. I can't believe it too. Pop never took a single drug aside from Stimpacks, when he fumbled up his blades and cut himself.
Uncle Li'l Jesus would just laugh and twirl his own knife in the air. Then Pop would glare and say.."Let's see you try to use a Vindicator..."
I don't know what he means by that, but it sure shuts up Uncle.
But he's dead. That's something I can't ignore. His coffins there, by the altar, and Father Tully is crying over it. For once, the geezer is sober. "What a waste, my Lord..what a waste...too early...too early..", he keeps on muttering over and over.
Aunt Valerie is crying softly, a row right behind me. She looks at me, tears in her eyes, the lights of candles sparkling off them. I can tell she want me to beside her, for me to be cuddled and cried over.
No, thank you.
She's not really my aunt. But she's the daughter of old man Vic, someone Pops viewed as kinda like his uncle, anyways...so that makes the guy my...what, great-uncle?
Ah, who cares. The bigger the family, the better. Mordinos rule.
-----------------
Lil' Unca Jesus looks out of it. I guess this is the third time he's gone to a Family funeral. The first was for his own dad, Big Jesus Mordino, then to Mom. Heh. Pops told me that he and Uncle Jesus were rivals in many things, specially in being the head of the Mordino clan. But one other thing they were fighting over was Mom's heart.
Turns out that Pops won both ways, then they had this kinda big fight, and then, Pops won again.
Uncle Jesus finally got it that he'd end up as a second-stringer for the rest of his life. He had to admit, that Pops *DID* run the Mordinos better than he could have ever done.
He became the best friend of Dad, Mom, and me. He still loved Mom, but she didn't love him back. So he felt like the only thing he could do was to protect her honor.
So when this drunk calls Mom a whore, Uncle Jesus comes up to him and makes sure he can never talk..or walk again.
Ouch.
Well...we did kinda own the Cat's Paw brothel...but I can't picture Mom being a whore. She was always so clean, so high-class beautiful. not like the other girls in the Paw.
They tell me that Mom was lucky to get Pops. I say it's the other way.
--------------------------------------
This breeze shafts through the church, and I get this feeling that something important's gonna happen, or someone BIG is gonna walk through that church door.
Sure enough, the door opens, but what walks through was this REALLY, REALLY old woman. She can barely stand up and walk, but she was supported and helped by a group of blue-uniformed soldiers, armed with the scariest-looking big guns I've ever seen.
Everybody around me gasps, and I could see that even Unc Jesus, who NEVER bows to anybody except Pops, wanted to stand and salute.
The old woman hobbles down the aisle and looks down at the coffin. She lets out this hard wail, and I tell you, my bones shivered.
Then, she walked down limply and sat at a front pew.
I asked the big man next to me, his name's Butler, and he's my bodyguard.
"Who's that?"
"What, ya don't know? Even if your still akid, you gotta learn to know what's what and who's who in the world."
"Just answer my question, Butt." Hehehe. Butler had this annoying habit of lecturing me. When that happens, I just call him by a shortened version of his name.
If fits, anyyhow. He's so fat, his butt sticks out high in the air.
"That's Her Excellency Tandi,", he said with a frown."President of the New California Republic."
"NCR..", I gasped. New Reno is the only town left in the Wasteland that isn't part of NCR. It used to be that there were three powers in the Wasteland. NCR, Vault City..and New Reno. After Pops closed down the Jet business, we kinda went into the background. NCR became so big and so powerful that anybody had GOT to be insane to try and act up against them. So, Vault City became a NCR state.
Where the hell was Vault City, anyhow? Aunt Val used to live there. Who cares..they're far away..and NCR left us alone. By the way that old woman's carrying on, I guess Pop had something to do with it...maybe he did a favor for her..and the price of it was New Reno.
She's old, and her skin so wrinkled..and so white and dry. But when she looks at you, her eyes are hard as diamonds, and it's so ALIVE that you couldn't believe it.
And she's lookin' at me.
Damn.
-------------------------------------
The door opens again, and Great-Uncle Vic walks in. He's still wearing those same faded clothes like last time. I heard that during his travels with Pop, he got so rich that he could probably qualify as one of the High Classes here in New Reno. So,m at the very least, he could have afforded new clothes.
But he doesn't. Seems to me like he likes his clothes..and all things that he uses to be like him. Old.
"Good tools got personality.", he said. "And old tools are the best, they matured, and had tangled with more screw-ups than you'd ever have seen.."
I don't know what he means by that, but it's one of the things that makes Pops embarrased.
"Hey, that generator wasn't my fault."
"Tell that to Gecko, Boss."
"But it's fixed!"
"Who fixed it?"
"Uh.."
More of the general craziness that follows this family around.
He's got another guy with him, an old tribal...Well, I know it's a trbal because he's got a bone as long as my arm stuck through his nose. Otherwise, he looks just like everybody, burnt in the sun...except that he's wearing Combat Armor. A lady with a hard look on her face walks up from behind him and pulls the tribal down to seat.
"Sit still, Sulik.", I heard her say.
"Ah..Grampy-bone be not believing this. He not sense this one."
"Like hell. I saw the way you looked at me even way back at the store."
"Sperit sworks in mysterious ways.."
I ignore them, they're tribals, anyway.
But Vic leans close and says, "Welcome back, Sulik."
"We and I wish it was on better occasion.", the tribal replies.
I sighed and turned back to the coffin. It's made of metal, but I don't know what kind. All I know is that Eldridge, Aunt Val, and a lot of whole lotta guys from all over the Wasteland came together and built the damn thing. All I hear when I pass by the locked workshop is sounds of clanging, and now and then, mutters about..."Proto-ceramic..Enclave metal. Brotherhood Welding techniques.."
I don't know what they were talkin' about, but damn...that's the coolest-looking coffin I've even seen.
Kinda fitting. Pops couldn't do anything without being cool.
-------------------------------------
I hear tapping on the door. "Could someone open this door, please? I don't think we have enough strength to push it open.", a squeaky voice says.
A guard sighs and opens the door.
We pinch our noses as this disgusting, rotting smell fills the church. The group of ghouls by the door looks embarased, and walks in, and to the coffin.
The guard makes like he's gonna throw them out, but Uncle Jesus stops them. "They got a right.., he says.
The ghouls cluster around the coffin. One of them, a tree growing off the top of his head, takes a leaf off the crown and places it on top of the coffin.
It was very symbolic, and while we didn't know the meaning, we were moved.
The ghouls all leave except one. He's wearing Combat Armor, too..so the smell wasn't that bad. Actually his smell wasn't sickly rot like the other ghouls, but more like burning charcoal....kinda aromatic if you close your eyes and not stare at his face that's falling apart.
Sulik waves in greeting and says,"How do, Lenny?"
"I guess I'm all right. These old bones could have been better off..."
He sits near Sulik, Uncle Vic, and Uncle Jesus. By some unspoken command, people began moving to the other side of the church, not out of disgust, but as a measure of respect.
Respect for whom? The ghoul? Nah...
But they left a whole lotta vacant seats.
Then the door opens, and I see who's gonna be sitting in them.
A Super-mutant.
No, let me rephrase that..
A fuckin' HUGE Super-mutant.
It looks around at the place, and its eyes glinted with...amusement at seeing our nervous gazes. Only the tribal Sulik, Uncle Vic, and Uncle Jesus seem unperturbed.
Most everyone in the place reached to their weapons, then looked surprised at not finding anything. They'd forgotten that they'd chucked them away this time as a gesture of respect. This was a funeral, there was room for only one death.
Vic waved at the mutant. "Marcus!"
The super-mutant turned and looked at the trader, a slight smile on his ugly face. He moved to sit on the bench behind them , and occupied half the seat. He shifted his tremedous bulk around and said to noone on particular,"At least he'll be in good company."
"What'cha mean?", Lenny the ghoul, asked.
"Jacob will be watching out for him."
Sulik nodded. "The sperits that are of same color wind up in same part of Heaven."
The mutant groaned.
"Twenty-goddamn years...and you're still on your Grampy-bone kick? Didn't your woman get rid of that?"
"She try..", Sulik laughed. "She try....."
Everybody seemed to be taking all of this casually now. This..Marcus seems like he's been buddies with Pop, a long time ago. I'd really like hearing his story.
Just as I was getting used to the idea of Pops actually KNOWING a Super-mutant...something in the air told me that things were about to get weirder.
---------------------
It wasn't something in the air, actually, more like the wind. It was this low tone, soothing and musical. It made me want to get up and kinda wave around, yaknow...
It became louder and nearer, and I I realized it was a song. I didn't understand the words...it was full of ~nagas... ~U-suthu...and......Vault Dweller? Chosen One??
The door to the church opened again, and I expected more tribals. What came in, I couldn't classify. Well..I can't call them tribals...you see, they've got on some pretty spiffy blue suits..and they carried what seemed to be really high-tech gadgets.
Only, they had really cool tattoos....and their leader was weird.
He was really, really short. About my height, really..and he had on this wooly robe that covered everything.
I mean everything. It flapped over the face, and I couldn't even see the feet. How the hell did that guy...I assume it's a guy. It's just the way he moves...swinging from side to side, arrogant as hell.
Anyways..I couldn't figure out how he kept from tripping on that robe and falling flat on his face.
As it went, the short guy shuffled up to the coffin and bowed low. His retinue bowed too, even more deeply. He waved them away, and they went out the church, bowing once more even as they bassed through the door.
Weird. Tribal..and not..tribal.
The short hooded guy sits next to Uncle Vic, and sags into the bench.
"I didn't think you'd come, Goris..", Marcus says over his head.
The guy just growls...but it got the message across. It's the kind of low, almost animal-like growl that says.."You're lucky I don't gut you for even trying to imply that.."
Uncle Jesus looks scared. He inches away from the hooded guy and crosses himself. The Super-mutant laughs. Jesus ain't scared'a no super-mutant, but he's spooked by this short guy.
I wonder why?
-------------------------
I turned to my left and saw that Butler was sleeping. The fat bugger..can't stay awake for more than five minutes.
I looked at the coffin. I already knew what I would see if I looked down on it..and the image came to mind.
Pop looked just like he was sleeping...
What would it be like..to be dead, I wonder...Pop used to sing something to put me to sleep...
~Sleep..sleep, the cousin of Death.
~Silent and dreamless.....
~Healing and true.
~Sleep now...and let destiny go...
~Your fortune will find you...
~Wherever you go....
I know...hardly the kind of lullaby that people appreciate. Mom was shocked when she learned he was singing me that. It was a tribal song..a war song, actually.
Well, it was kinda cool...that's just the way my Pop was weird.
How old was Pop, anyhow? I never knew...nobody in New Reno knows. He looks like he's in his early 30's but he's more than that...
He's been all over the Wasteland, people say...and there was talk that Pop had a lotta thing to do with the many changes in the place.
You gotta admit, it was kinda a weird coincidence. The biggest changes in the Wasteland...the dissolving of the New Reno families...the making of a Power Grid...the rise of NCR..these all happened in the twenty years he'd been said to have been roaming around.
I asked him about it once. All he said that the chosen One was the one who did it, not him. He was just another Mordino...albeit an adopted one at that.
Somehow..I feel as if he'd been lying to me all these years.. Look at all these people..he has GOT to have done something other than being just another crime boss.
Yeah. I know we deal in illegal stuff. It's just the way things are. Wanna make something of it?
-----------
I've got the feeling that something big is gonna hapen again... Well, it's that..or I really need to go, badly.
Nah.
The floor is shaking, that's what.
The bucket of Holy Water on the altar is shaking. I'm closing my eyes to get a better feel of things. There.
*thump*
*thump*
*thump*
*THUMP*
It's kinda like...marching?
The sound stopped.
What the hell? I blink my eyes open and look around. Seems like people noticed the sounds too. Kinda hard not to, after all..we don't get earthquakes her in this part of the Wasteland.
The door to the church swings open, and I felt blinded. I help a hand up to sheield my eyes from the glare, and I gasped at seeing what walked in.
Damn. Why is everybody grinning so happily all of a sudden? It was the ultimate weirdness to come into my life so far. a troop of metal giants..walking into the church..
The tin men parted, and I saw someone step up from behind them. It was a man, his helmet off his shiny metal suit. I guessed that these things..were actually...armor.
The famed Power Armor.
Damn. I'm drooling.
The guy clanks over to the coffin and looks down, and his face creases with sadness. He sighs heavily, and the Armor whines as he sags down in heavy-heartedness. He looks back to his troop and nods meaningfully. He takes out this shiny gun..and fires it off above the coffin.
Wow.
The thing lets off this bright flash of green light, and the next thing I know..there's a hole in Father Tully's roof.
The other Power Armored people draw similar pistols and fires it off. I must say, it made a VERY impressive light show..and I felt somehow gratified in this strange way their saluting my father.
Of course..that makes half the roof they've vaporised...but nobody seems to care. They're too awestruck.
"And thus..we pay homage to a great man, a much-honored Son... of the Brotherhood of Steel...", the guy announces in a booming, somber voice. He raises his hands high in the air, like sorcerer casting a powerful incatation.
"The Glory of the Brotherhood goes with you!"
Ow. My jaw dropped so hard that it hurts. Pop?! A MEMBER of the fuckin' BROTHERHOOD OF STEEL!!?!!?!
Waita second...this is beyond weird. This is Insane!
I gotta faint now...
*clonk*
----------------------------------------
End (for now)
Sorry..I just had to get this out of my system. Don't expect a follow up too soon. Which would you rather have me do...This...the Nightsong...or Stasis?
Either way..it's gonna be loong before the next one.
The Mass _Nonproduction_ Perk! Ahahahahahaha!!!
Additional datum:
This is from the viewpoint of the son of the Chosen One and Miss Kitty. Any ideas on what his name should be?
Ah, yes..I forgot something...the trailer...
~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^
Visit the Sattelite of Java!
Marvel at the colorful toxic clouds of Cygnus Beta!
Tour the historical Sattelite of Java, home to the Caffeino2000!
Talk with the illustrious (read: pervert) Crawler!
Match philosphical wit with Gummert!
Be fussed over by CowLord!
Try to out-cool Sparks!
Listen to Bpen sing RIDICULOUSLY LOUD AND OFF-KEY,"Nuke 'em till they glow! Nuke 'em 'till they GLOW...NUKE 'EM TIL THEY GLOW!!!!AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAA!!"
All this and more for the measly price of one crappy fanfic. Seats available in First Class only. Thank you for choosing to crash with The Bluepencil Airways.
Restricted to people with an sanity quotient of sixty or below.
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~cause anything less than total and utter overkill is a complete waste of time~
-it's the freakin' bluepencil!
~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^
Choices
by B-pen
Well, the old bugger is dead. I can't deny that. I thought he'd never die, yaknow? After all, look at old Jules. Everybody talks downwind with him, he's got to have more alcohol than blood in his veins. He's so shrunked up, that you'd almost think that a good breeze would blow him away.
Nope. He lives on, the town greeter. He still stands by the corner across and down from the Desperado, greeting newcomers into town, and more--less making marks on who's who in town.
Hey, it keeps the casualty level down......
Anyways, old Jules said that he used to be taking drugs, this very addicting thing called Jet. "Rots you from the inside..",he said. But my Pop came to him one day and gave him this funny little brown bottle, and told him to drink it.
And lo and behold, the Jet cravings were no more.
It's kinda weird. He never expected to outlast the Padrino, he said to me. I can't believe it too. Pop never took a single drug aside from Stimpacks, when he fumbled up his blades and cut himself.
Uncle Li'l Jesus would just laugh and twirl his own knife in the air. Then Pop would glare and say.."Let's see you try to use a Vindicator..."
I don't know what he means by that, but it sure shuts up Uncle.
But he's dead. That's something I can't ignore. His coffins there, by the altar, and Father Tully is crying over it. For once, the geezer is sober. "What a waste, my Lord..what a waste...too early...too early..", he keeps on muttering over and over.
Aunt Valerie is crying softly, a row right behind me. She looks at me, tears in her eyes, the lights of candles sparkling off them. I can tell she want me to beside her, for me to be cuddled and cried over.
No, thank you.
She's not really my aunt. But she's the daughter of old man Vic, someone Pops viewed as kinda like his uncle, anyways...so that makes the guy my...what, great-uncle?
Ah, who cares. The bigger the family, the better. Mordinos rule.
-----------------
Lil' Unca Jesus looks out of it. I guess this is the third time he's gone to a Family funeral. The first was for his own dad, Big Jesus Mordino, then to Mom. Heh. Pops told me that he and Uncle Jesus were rivals in many things, specially in being the head of the Mordino clan. But one other thing they were fighting over was Mom's heart.
Turns out that Pops won both ways, then they had this kinda big fight, and then, Pops won again.
Uncle Jesus finally got it that he'd end up as a second-stringer for the rest of his life. He had to admit, that Pops *DID* run the Mordinos better than he could have ever done.
He became the best friend of Dad, Mom, and me. He still loved Mom, but she didn't love him back. So he felt like the only thing he could do was to protect her honor.
So when this drunk calls Mom a whore, Uncle Jesus comes up to him and makes sure he can never talk..or walk again.
Ouch.
Well...we did kinda own the Cat's Paw brothel...but I can't picture Mom being a whore. She was always so clean, so high-class beautiful. not like the other girls in the Paw.
They tell me that Mom was lucky to get Pops. I say it's the other way.
--------------------------------------
This breeze shafts through the church, and I get this feeling that something important's gonna happen, or someone BIG is gonna walk through that church door.
Sure enough, the door opens, but what walks through was this REALLY, REALLY old woman. She can barely stand up and walk, but she was supported and helped by a group of blue-uniformed soldiers, armed with the scariest-looking big guns I've ever seen.
Everybody around me gasps, and I could see that even Unc Jesus, who NEVER bows to anybody except Pops, wanted to stand and salute.
The old woman hobbles down the aisle and looks down at the coffin. She lets out this hard wail, and I tell you, my bones shivered.
Then, she walked down limply and sat at a front pew.
I asked the big man next to me, his name's Butler, and he's my bodyguard.
"Who's that?"
"What, ya don't know? Even if your still akid, you gotta learn to know what's what and who's who in the world."
"Just answer my question, Butt." Hehehe. Butler had this annoying habit of lecturing me. When that happens, I just call him by a shortened version of his name.
If fits, anyyhow. He's so fat, his butt sticks out high in the air.
"That's Her Excellency Tandi,", he said with a frown."President of the New California Republic."
"NCR..", I gasped. New Reno is the only town left in the Wasteland that isn't part of NCR. It used to be that there were three powers in the Wasteland. NCR, Vault City..and New Reno. After Pops closed down the Jet business, we kinda went into the background. NCR became so big and so powerful that anybody had GOT to be insane to try and act up against them. So, Vault City became a NCR state.
Where the hell was Vault City, anyhow? Aunt Val used to live there. Who cares..they're far away..and NCR left us alone. By the way that old woman's carrying on, I guess Pop had something to do with it...maybe he did a favor for her..and the price of it was New Reno.
She's old, and her skin so wrinkled..and so white and dry. But when she looks at you, her eyes are hard as diamonds, and it's so ALIVE that you couldn't believe it.
And she's lookin' at me.
Damn.
-------------------------------------
The door opens again, and Great-Uncle Vic walks in. He's still wearing those same faded clothes like last time. I heard that during his travels with Pop, he got so rich that he could probably qualify as one of the High Classes here in New Reno. So,m at the very least, he could have afforded new clothes.
But he doesn't. Seems to me like he likes his clothes..and all things that he uses to be like him. Old.
"Good tools got personality.", he said. "And old tools are the best, they matured, and had tangled with more screw-ups than you'd ever have seen.."
I don't know what he means by that, but it's one of the things that makes Pops embarrased.
"Hey, that generator wasn't my fault."
"Tell that to Gecko, Boss."
"But it's fixed!"
"Who fixed it?"
"Uh.."
More of the general craziness that follows this family around.
He's got another guy with him, an old tribal...Well, I know it's a trbal because he's got a bone as long as my arm stuck through his nose. Otherwise, he looks just like everybody, burnt in the sun...except that he's wearing Combat Armor. A lady with a hard look on her face walks up from behind him and pulls the tribal down to seat.
"Sit still, Sulik.", I heard her say.
"Ah..Grampy-bone be not believing this. He not sense this one."
"Like hell. I saw the way you looked at me even way back at the store."
"Sperit sworks in mysterious ways.."
I ignore them, they're tribals, anyway.
But Vic leans close and says, "Welcome back, Sulik."
"We and I wish it was on better occasion.", the tribal replies.
I sighed and turned back to the coffin. It's made of metal, but I don't know what kind. All I know is that Eldridge, Aunt Val, and a lot of whole lotta guys from all over the Wasteland came together and built the damn thing. All I hear when I pass by the locked workshop is sounds of clanging, and now and then, mutters about..."Proto-ceramic..Enclave metal. Brotherhood Welding techniques.."
I don't know what they were talkin' about, but damn...that's the coolest-looking coffin I've even seen.
Kinda fitting. Pops couldn't do anything without being cool.
-------------------------------------
I hear tapping on the door. "Could someone open this door, please? I don't think we have enough strength to push it open.", a squeaky voice says.
A guard sighs and opens the door.
We pinch our noses as this disgusting, rotting smell fills the church. The group of ghouls by the door looks embarased, and walks in, and to the coffin.
The guard makes like he's gonna throw them out, but Uncle Jesus stops them. "They got a right.., he says.
The ghouls cluster around the coffin. One of them, a tree growing off the top of his head, takes a leaf off the crown and places it on top of the coffin.
It was very symbolic, and while we didn't know the meaning, we were moved.
The ghouls all leave except one. He's wearing Combat Armor, too..so the smell wasn't that bad. Actually his smell wasn't sickly rot like the other ghouls, but more like burning charcoal....kinda aromatic if you close your eyes and not stare at his face that's falling apart.
Sulik waves in greeting and says,"How do, Lenny?"
"I guess I'm all right. These old bones could have been better off..."
He sits near Sulik, Uncle Vic, and Uncle Jesus. By some unspoken command, people began moving to the other side of the church, not out of disgust, but as a measure of respect.
Respect for whom? The ghoul? Nah...
But they left a whole lotta vacant seats.
Then the door opens, and I see who's gonna be sitting in them.
A Super-mutant.
No, let me rephrase that..
A fuckin' HUGE Super-mutant.
It looks around at the place, and its eyes glinted with...amusement at seeing our nervous gazes. Only the tribal Sulik, Uncle Vic, and Uncle Jesus seem unperturbed.
Most everyone in the place reached to their weapons, then looked surprised at not finding anything. They'd forgotten that they'd chucked them away this time as a gesture of respect. This was a funeral, there was room for only one death.
Vic waved at the mutant. "Marcus!"
The super-mutant turned and looked at the trader, a slight smile on his ugly face. He moved to sit on the bench behind them , and occupied half the seat. He shifted his tremedous bulk around and said to noone on particular,"At least he'll be in good company."
"What'cha mean?", Lenny the ghoul, asked.
"Jacob will be watching out for him."
Sulik nodded. "The sperits that are of same color wind up in same part of Heaven."
The mutant groaned.
"Twenty-goddamn years...and you're still on your Grampy-bone kick? Didn't your woman get rid of that?"
"She try..", Sulik laughed. "She try....."
Everybody seemed to be taking all of this casually now. This..Marcus seems like he's been buddies with Pop, a long time ago. I'd really like hearing his story.
Just as I was getting used to the idea of Pops actually KNOWING a Super-mutant...something in the air told me that things were about to get weirder.
---------------------
It wasn't something in the air, actually, more like the wind. It was this low tone, soothing and musical. It made me want to get up and kinda wave around, yaknow...
It became louder and nearer, and I I realized it was a song. I didn't understand the words...it was full of ~nagas... ~U-suthu...and......Vault Dweller? Chosen One??
The door to the church opened again, and I expected more tribals. What came in, I couldn't classify. Well..I can't call them tribals...you see, they've got on some pretty spiffy blue suits..and they carried what seemed to be really high-tech gadgets.
Only, they had really cool tattoos....and their leader was weird.
He was really, really short. About my height, really..and he had on this wooly robe that covered everything.
I mean everything. It flapped over the face, and I couldn't even see the feet. How the hell did that guy...I assume it's a guy. It's just the way he moves...swinging from side to side, arrogant as hell.
Anyways..I couldn't figure out how he kept from tripping on that robe and falling flat on his face.
As it went, the short guy shuffled up to the coffin and bowed low. His retinue bowed too, even more deeply. He waved them away, and they went out the church, bowing once more even as they bassed through the door.
Weird. Tribal..and not..tribal.
The short hooded guy sits next to Uncle Vic, and sags into the bench.
"I didn't think you'd come, Goris..", Marcus says over his head.
The guy just growls...but it got the message across. It's the kind of low, almost animal-like growl that says.."You're lucky I don't gut you for even trying to imply that.."
Uncle Jesus looks scared. He inches away from the hooded guy and crosses himself. The Super-mutant laughs. Jesus ain't scared'a no super-mutant, but he's spooked by this short guy.
I wonder why?
-------------------------
I turned to my left and saw that Butler was sleeping. The fat bugger..can't stay awake for more than five minutes.
I looked at the coffin. I already knew what I would see if I looked down on it..and the image came to mind.
Pop looked just like he was sleeping...
What would it be like..to be dead, I wonder...Pop used to sing something to put me to sleep...
~Sleep..sleep, the cousin of Death.
~Silent and dreamless.....
~Healing and true.
~Sleep now...and let destiny go...
~Your fortune will find you...
~Wherever you go....
I know...hardly the kind of lullaby that people appreciate. Mom was shocked when she learned he was singing me that. It was a tribal song..a war song, actually.
Well, it was kinda cool...that's just the way my Pop was weird.
How old was Pop, anyhow? I never knew...nobody in New Reno knows. He looks like he's in his early 30's but he's more than that...
He's been all over the Wasteland, people say...and there was talk that Pop had a lotta thing to do with the many changes in the place.
You gotta admit, it was kinda a weird coincidence. The biggest changes in the Wasteland...the dissolving of the New Reno families...the making of a Power Grid...the rise of NCR..these all happened in the twenty years he'd been said to have been roaming around.
I asked him about it once. All he said that the chosen One was the one who did it, not him. He was just another Mordino...albeit an adopted one at that.
Somehow..I feel as if he'd been lying to me all these years.. Look at all these people..he has GOT to have done something other than being just another crime boss.
Yeah. I know we deal in illegal stuff. It's just the way things are. Wanna make something of it?
-----------
I've got the feeling that something big is gonna hapen again... Well, it's that..or I really need to go, badly.
Nah.
The floor is shaking, that's what.
The bucket of Holy Water on the altar is shaking. I'm closing my eyes to get a better feel of things. There.
*thump*
*thump*
*thump*
*THUMP*
It's kinda like...marching?
The sound stopped.
What the hell? I blink my eyes open and look around. Seems like people noticed the sounds too. Kinda hard not to, after all..we don't get earthquakes her in this part of the Wasteland.
The door to the church swings open, and I felt blinded. I help a hand up to sheield my eyes from the glare, and I gasped at seeing what walked in.
Damn. Why is everybody grinning so happily all of a sudden? It was the ultimate weirdness to come into my life so far. a troop of metal giants..walking into the church..
The tin men parted, and I saw someone step up from behind them. It was a man, his helmet off his shiny metal suit. I guessed that these things..were actually...armor.
The famed Power Armor.
Damn. I'm drooling.
The guy clanks over to the coffin and looks down, and his face creases with sadness. He sighs heavily, and the Armor whines as he sags down in heavy-heartedness. He looks back to his troop and nods meaningfully. He takes out this shiny gun..and fires it off above the coffin.
Wow.
The thing lets off this bright flash of green light, and the next thing I know..there's a hole in Father Tully's roof.
The other Power Armored people draw similar pistols and fires it off. I must say, it made a VERY impressive light show..and I felt somehow gratified in this strange way their saluting my father.
Of course..that makes half the roof they've vaporised...but nobody seems to care. They're too awestruck.
"And thus..we pay homage to a great man, a much-honored Son... of the Brotherhood of Steel...", the guy announces in a booming, somber voice. He raises his hands high in the air, like sorcerer casting a powerful incatation.
"The Glory of the Brotherhood goes with you!"
Ow. My jaw dropped so hard that it hurts. Pop?! A MEMBER of the fuckin' BROTHERHOOD OF STEEL!!?!!?!
Waita second...this is beyond weird. This is Insane!
I gotta faint now...
*clonk*
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End (for now)
Sorry..I just had to get this out of my system. Don't expect a follow up too soon. Which would you rather have me do...This...the Nightsong...or Stasis?
Either way..it's gonna be loong before the next one.
The Mass _Nonproduction_ Perk! Ahahahahahaha!!!
Additional datum:
This is from the viewpoint of the son of the Chosen One and Miss Kitty. Any ideas on what his name should be?
Ah, yes..I forgot something...the trailer...
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Visit the Sattelite of Java!
Marvel at the colorful toxic clouds of Cygnus Beta!
Tour the historical Sattelite of Java, home to the Caffeino2000!
Talk with the illustrious (read: pervert) Crawler!
Match philosphical wit with Gummert!
Be fussed over by CowLord!
Try to out-cool Sparks!
Listen to Bpen sing RIDICULOUSLY LOUD AND OFF-KEY,"Nuke 'em till they glow! Nuke 'em 'till they GLOW...NUKE 'EM TIL THEY GLOW!!!!AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAA!!"
All this and more for the measly price of one crappy fanfic. Seats available in First Class only. Thank you for choosing to crash with The Bluepencil Airways.
Restricted to people with an sanity quotient of sixty or below.
-bluepencil@techemail.com
http://uro.topcities.com/asda.gif
~cause anything less than total and utter overkill is a complete waste of time~
-it's the freakin' bluepencil!
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