Western Sunrise

Mialdor900

First time out of the vault
Yeah, I’m writing a fanfic :twisted: . BOO!! It’s set far from California, that's important. Here goes:
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Prologue: The Tale of John
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It was a Tuesday, and nobody cared. Nobody ever did; they had no idea what a Tuesday was, or what it could possibly be used for. No, that was a lie. Three people around here knew about Tuesdays, but two of them were dead. And nobody cared about the third person. But that was okay; Scyne didn’t care about anybody else, either.

Scyne was, however, somewhat concerned on everyone’s behalf on this particular Tuesday when the sun rose in the west.

It had happened before, from the tales his grandfather, Phyr, had told him long ago. It had been a Tuesday, then, too, Phyr had said, and it was quickly followed by fear, confusion, and darkness. The Second Darkening, he had called it. When Scyne asked what the First Darkening was, Phyr had told him the same story his father had told him, about The War and life in Vault 53.

“Wait- great-grandpa John lived in a VAULT?!” Scyne didn’t believe it. “You can’t live in a vault, can you?”

Phyr chuckled. “No, no, no. Not that type of vault- nothing to do with the old bank building. Vault 53, and all the other Vaults, are more like gigantic underground houses, like entire neighborhoods, hidden away, safe, where bombs can’t hurt them.”

“Bombs? What bombs?”

Phyr chuckled again. “Now, now, if you let me tell the story, you might just find out. Hold on to your questions and maybe you won’t have to ask them.”

And so Phyr launched into the tale of The War and the First Darkening. Scyne wished now he had paid more attention to the Tale of John. But all he remembered were bits and pieces, about the Government and the fight for The Fuel, how the Foreigners fought, but were nothing versus the Government’s Suits, and how when the bombs fell, it looked like the sun was rising everywhere at once. How, luckily, John had managed to reach safety in Vault 53 nearly a hundred miles away.

“How’d he get to South Bend from here? It’s a hundred miles!” Scyne asked.

“He used a car. It only took him an hour.”

“An hour? In those heavy cans?”

“At the time, Scyne, most cars still moved, and moved quite fast- nearly a hundred miles an hour, some of them.”

“Wow.”

“Now, when my dad got out of the Vault, things were different. Cars were a thing of the past. Mind you, there are still lots of them around, but very, very few of them work any longer.” He chuckled. “Actually, most of them work for a lot shorter,” he said, and chuckled at his own little joke.

Scyne had an idea. “What if one still worked? Would we be able to go as fast as your dad, grampa?”

“Ah, now I asked that same question of my dad, and he told me a pretty good answer, so I’ll be able to answer you, but I think it’s more important right now that I tell you about the Second Darkening.

“It was sixty years ago, on a Tuesday. I was about as old as you are now, give or take a year. One morning we all awoke to see this ball of light just rising in the west. I was afraid. It looked just the way dad had said the bombs looked. I still don’t know what exactly it was, but dad seemed to, and it didn’t look like he liked it. It was double-bright that day, like noon all day long, it seemed. But then, there was the darkness. It was like some kind of cloud convention- clouds from everywhere around, it seemed, were just massing together and blocking out the sun. And they stayed here for three days before breaking up and moving on.

“And Oh! the rain! It rained, for the first time I had ever seen, and sonny, I hope it never rains again. Foul, yellow stuff. It looked like piss! And it burned, like a Peeper bite. A lot of people died trying to drink it, or bathe in it. It killed all the plants, even the Biters. And it ate through metal! Can you believe it? Right through metal! Okay, well, not all the way through, but… The point is, it happened twice in a short time span. It could happen again soon, and I want you prepared for it if it does. Stay indoors at all time! If at all possible, get in the Vault. Yes, that would be best. The Vault would be safe…”

“But grampa, how would I get to the Vault? You said it was a hundred miles away.”

“That’s right, I did. Glad to see you’re paying attention, shorty. Remember how I told you I’d answer your car question? Well, like I said, some cars out there will still run. They’re not that hard to find around here, really, ‘cause the foreigners didn’t want to waste any bombs on this area; we weren’t ‘important’ enough to get bombed. Hah! See what ‘importance’ gets ya? Chicago! Detroit! New York! San Francisco! They’re all rubble, I betchya. I know Chicago went, and daddy said New York went first- it was most ‘important.’”

“That’s great, grampa, but how does that get me to the Vault?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. Well, a while back, I found one of those working cars. M’dad had taught me all about cars, and I’m about to teach you. Get ready, there’s a lot to learn.”

And so it was that Scyne was ready for the Third Darkening when it came.

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That’s it for the prologue. It's just a little background on the subject. Fun, yes? See ya.

P.S.- The names are pronounced like 'sign,' 'fire,' and 'John,' in order of appearance.
 
A good first go, Mialdor. I hope this one sprouts.

However, you might want to resist the urge of adding footnotes to the story. When writing, have one of these mentalities in mind: either assume the reader knows the background or assume the reader doesn't know the background.

If the reader is supposed to know the story, don't add footnotes at all. It'll make it seem obscure and add mystique to your world. Sorta like your mentioning The War. The reader will think, "What war?" and possibly have him much more interested in the world, wondering what happened and so forth.

But if the reader doesn't know the background, fill it in into the story. Like saying "Phyr spoke of The War, the war to end all wars. Essentially World War Three, only this one actually would have no descendants."

Just my suggestion, don't change anything major on my account.

Other than that, have a go with it.
 
Footnotes? What footnotes? :whistle:
Thanks. I just read The Gospel According to Larry and The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, two books with footnotes, and so it seemed like a good idea. But now that I read it without them, I think it was really an improvement. Thanks again.
 
Very lively dialogue for an enjoyable prologue. Good stuff, Mialdor!

As one who enjoys Douglas Adams' works, you might be familiar with the novels of Terry Pratchett who often uses footnotes to add humorous details that aren't essential to the understanding of the novel but add greatly to its comedy value. I think that anything the reader needs to know should be part of the main text.
 
Didn't get to see the foot notes but i'd generally agree with Gunslingers post.

But anyways, nice start. Be looking forward to seeing how the rest goes.
 
Well, here’s the first chapter. I’m gonna have a lot of free time soon, so maybe I’ll get chapter 2 up soon. But who knows? Might wind up not feeling very inspired. We’ll find out, I suppose.
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Summary of story to this point: Scyne must try to reach Vault 53 in the event of a Third Darkening. Phyr has taught him about cars.

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Chapter 1: The Coming of the Third Darkening
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The Third darkening came, much as expected. It was a fine day for change, most people would have thought, but for Scyne, it was a terrible, terrible Tuesday. He stood rooted to the spot when he saw it: the gigantic ball of light rose over the horizon in the west, shedding too much light too early on the little surviving town that was Saint Benton. It was beautiful and frightening all at once: like a miniature sun, crackling with energy, creating such a sense of awe and power that one could not help but to gaze.

It reminded Scyne of tales from various traders that Scyne’s father, Styr, had passed along. The traders of the south spoke of great columns they called ‘Spinners’ that fell from the sky and destroyed all they touched before vanishing in the wind. In the east, it is said, there are great ‘Washes.’ Every summer a Wash will come in off the Sea, flooding villages, settlements, and outposts before dragging what it can back with it into the Sea. These traders too had felt the inexplicable urge to watch as these wonders did their work. But the Second Sun retreated now and Scyne was reminded again of the need for urgency. He turned and ran.

He ran to his shed, where he immediately picked up the cans of The Fuel he had collected and put them in the trunk of the old Forrarian. He made sure he had all he would need and jumped in. As his grandfather had taught him, he buckled his seatbelt first. As he reached to turn the key in the ignition, he thought of all the work and time spent preparing for this moment. The months spent trying to find a car that would still function. The years spent siphoning every last drop of The Fuel he could find out of other cars and into the fuel canisters. The weeks spent learning and practicing the motions of driving in the old and broken Corvega. He remembered all this with satisfaction as he turned the key now.

Whirrer-err-err-erphut.

“Oh, shit!” Scyne shouted, frustrated and scared. This was not the noise Phyr had told him to expect. He tried again.

Whirrer-err-err-erphut.

“Fuck!” He cried. He tried once more.

Whirer-err-err-groomph, purrr… The car began to rumble.

“Son of a… yes!” Scyne shouted in joy. It still wasn’t the sound he had been told to expect, but this one felt right, somehow. It was an amazing noise, unlike anything he had ever heard before. It reminded him of the noise dogs made when agitated, but this was more pleasant. He couldn’t place it. But he had no time to lose- he couldn’t be there pondering when the rains came. He shifted into ‘drive.’

The car jolted. Scyne put his foot on the gas. He pressed slightly. The car began to move, and started to gather speed. He looked right, left, ahead, and behind. He pressed a little more. The car began to move even more quickly now, and Scyne was on his way. He glanced at his aged map of the area. He could still see the ‘Vault-Tec Maps’ stamp in the corner. His great-grandfather had brought it home with him. Scyne remembered his father taking it with him on trading trips before… before- well, he didn’t want to think about it. Besides, he needed to find his way to the Vault. He turned onto the main road and sped off towards the bridge.

He was there in half a minute. He hadn’t properly comprehended the speed at which the Forrarian moved. He navigated around the fissures and holes in the bridge and towards the hill on the other side. He flew up the hill, past the site of the only green plant life in the town: the Berry Inn Orchard. No one was quite sure why it was called Berry Inn. There was no inn and there were no berries. he locals said it was derived from its prewar name, but no one could be sure, and no one cared anyway. It was just a place to get the week’s food. The corn, wheat, potatoes, apples, and cabbage were what you lived on in Saint Benton. Scyne thought of this as he sped on, making a great roar and leaving two parallel black lines behind him.

He reached an intersection. He kept going. He reached another. He kept right on going. At the fourth intersection hereached he slowed down somewhat. He turned left and headed down a hill. At the bottom of this hill he found his first checkpoint: a strip of asphalt that stretched to the horizon in both directions. He turned south and stepped on the gas. Hard.

He had reached the Interstate.

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Well, that’s chapter one. I’m already starting chapter two, so you should be able to see it sometime this weekend. By the way, Styr is pronounced like 'steer.'
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Scyne has one hundred miles to go before he reaches the Vault. What will happen? You don’t know! Wooooooooo… miss-star-re! Tune in next time for Chapter Two: The Glory of the Open Road. See ya.
 
Not bad. This is starting to come along well.

Be looking forward to see where this is gonna go with the vault an all.

I aint really got time now but i'll try and add some more constructive comments later...

Ciaos
 
Sorry, can't get chapter two up right now, maybe next weekend? And sorry if I got anyone's hopes up by having made a post that was not actually an installment.
 
No, that's quite alright. We all acknowledge that real life can be a tedious and time-consuming endevor, and that not everything revolves around board posts. Of course, that's still not exscuse for your utter and total failure. As such, you will need to be punished in ways ancient and myserious

pulls out a spear, rusty and with a 95% chance of inflicting tetnus damage

Now don't hold still, because it's a lot more fun that way!
 
Here be the second chapter. Enjoy.
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Summary of story to this point: Scyne has left Saint Benton for the Vault in his spiffy Forrarian. He has reached the interstate.

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Chapter 2: The Glory of the Open Road
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Heading south, Scyne glanced at the speedometer. One hundred miles per hour. He glanced at the map. One hundred miles. After a quick mental calculation, it was realized that that left him an hour- alone, in the car, with no one to talk to. He sighed.

He passed a sign. ‘Speed Limit: 70mph,’ it read. The loneliness really set in then. He was reminded harshly now that there were far fewer people left after The War than the were beforehand: normally there would be so many people in so many cars driving around that they had to enforce speed restrictions so no one would get hurt. Now there was just him, going thirty miles too fast. There was no one to stop him. Not that that was an encouraging thought.

Scyne didn’t like being alone; every time he was alone, his memories haunted him. Much like they did now. Memories of his long-gone family rose to the surface from the depths of his mind.

Dead. All dead. Great-grandma Lyn, who started the tradition of naming everyone with a ‘y’ in their name, had passed, long ago, of radiation poisoning: she had drunken so bad water. She was twenty-two, and Grandpa Phyr was only three. Great-grandpa John had died in his sleep twenty-seven years later. Phyr, too, had passed in his sleep, when Scyne was twenty. Grandma Kara had died giving birth Styr, Scyne’s father. Styr had married a woman named Dallas, who, along with all her family, had died in a gang shooting at the park where they where holding their annual get-together. Neither Scyne nor Styr were there at the time: Scyne was at home, being babysat by Phyr, and Styr was out on a trade route. When the news reached him, the other traders reported, he died of heartbreak.

“He fell to his knees and grabbed his chest, like,” they said. “Then he tossed his knife and revolver at our feet. He said: ‘Give these to Scyne.’ Then he lay back and screamed ‘Dallas!’ He just lay there, with his eyes all rolled back in his head.”

That was the end of Scyne’s immediate family.

Scyne pulled out Dear, his father’s old revolver now, and looked at the inscriptions on it.. He glanced up. As fate would have it, he was just in time to see the sign: ‘South Bend/Vault 53, next exit.’ He put the revolver away and pulled off the interstate. He passed a billboard.

“The future is now!” was its lame and outdated slogan.

“The future sucks,” Scyne said.

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That be chapter two. There aren’t really any unusual names to worry about here.
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Scyne has finally reached South Bend. What next? I don’t know! Wooooooooo… miss-star-re! Tune in next time for Chapter Three: The Great Vault 53. See ya.
 
Just postin' ta see if ennyone's still here. Perhaps you thought I had made another non-installment post, mayhaps mayhaps? Or maybees youz is under ze impreshun dat I haven't posted at allz, mayhaps mayhaps? Or maybe you don't care about my story becauz youz is having lives of yourz own and I is not ze center of yourz universe, mayhaps, even?


Misspelling things izz funz...
 
I really liked it and am looking forward to the next installment if you write one.
My favourite part was when the rain looked like urine
 
Good stuff man. Keep it comin.

I never noticed these boards, hmm maybe I should write something.
 
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