Skinless 1a/?

Date: 2012-05-02 10:10 pm (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
Kink: ghoul
Characters: F!LW, Gob, Moriarty, Nova, Moira
Relationship: het

Trying a new style with this, so let me know if it sucks. Shaping up to be long no matter what I do, but still deciding whether to keep it small scale and domestic or wasteland-wide. It's up to you anons!

-


The first thing I'm learning is that the world outside the vault is pretty much a wasteland. And that's exactly what my Pip-Boy says it is, updated after two hundred years of being underground, mapping out the way the world's changed. It's telling me (at least, I'm pretty sure it's telling me) that the weird, metal dome I can see in the mid-distance is some kind of settlement. So, yeah, I'm gonna strike out for that.

This is crazy. This is totally, totally crazy.

I've got no idea how I'm keeping calm right now. There is blood on me. I can feel it in my fucking shoes. There's some on my cheek, I'm sure of it, but I can't make myself wipe it off. I can't make myself touch it. I beat someone to death today - someone I probably would have got to known, as I got older, someone who probably had a family. I took my baseball bat - my fucking baseball bat, the one Dad and Jonah taught me how to use when I was six and I've kept safe ever since - to bash someone's brains in. I felt his armour splinter and his skull give way and oh God why am I thinking about it I'm going to vomit.

Ugh.

Okay, I'm shaking now. Shit. Okay, stop it, keep it together. Don't be that guy who keels over five feet out of the vault, c'mon.

I keep thinking about throwing the baseball bat away. I can't. It's blood stained and battered and I can't, because what if something happens to me out here? I don't know what...monsters could be out here. I don't know how to defend myself, and right now, my baseball bat of death feels a lot sturdier in my hands than a gun I don't know how to shoot.

Alright, I'm going to keep going. I could probably move faster if I put the bat away but fuck that noise. I can see miles in every direction, but there are rocks and hollows and anything could pop up at any minute and I cannot express the extent to which I'm not okay with that. I could probably also make better time if I didn't keep stopping every few seconds because of the noises out here. It's quiet, but there's these sounds that...I don't know. And then there's the lack of sounds. No machines. No pipes. I don't like it. This isn't home.

But I guess the vault isn't anymore, either.

Suddenly, the jumpsuit I'm wearing feels like a relic of a childhood I've just outgrown.

It takes a while, but I get there. I move carefully round the outside until I find what looks like a way in. A robot chirps at me - LOUDLY. I don't know what I say to it. I don't know if I say anything. The doors are big and heavy and it hits me that I'm going to have to butch up, massively, if I'm going to survive for ten minutes out here.

What hits me first is the smell. It smells of people, all pressed together in one small space, in a way the vault never did. You could smell that kind of thing at parties, and at assemblies, but here it's magnified a hundredfold, and this is every day, this is life, this closeness and craziness, and how the hell am I going to survive out here? The structure of the place is intense, and that's what I notice next. It's like nothing I've ever seen, in a book or out of it. The whole town - city? - is cobbled together out of metal and scrap, and it hits me that this is what people can achieve. More than vaults, more than learning, they can achieve survival.

And that's what my life is gonna have to be now. Survival.

I notice all of a sudden, now I'm done staring at the place, that someone is closing in on me. He's big, broad shouldered, and he lifts the brim of his hat and says, "Welcome to Megaton!"

And I pass out, because he doesn't have a face.

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