Vault 101 Dweller, Fallout 3, Anywhere Pandimensional With A Ceiling

[mm_cam]

The door creaks open on a sunny, cool day where a thin wind that smells of faintly wrong things breezes over concrete and grass. A moment later the muzzle of a ten-millimeter pistol makes its appearance at the edge of the doorframe, followed first by the rest of the gun and then by its wielder: an Asian-looking woman who can't be more than twenty

Comments

[rare_softness]

...Okay, that's a new one.

Call it professional curiosity, but Chainsaw wanders closer, head tilted.

Her expression isn't quite concerned; intrigued, maybe.

[rare_softness]

Chainsaw snickers.

"Damn if that ain't the sweetest case of agoraphobia I've ever seen."

[mm_cam]

"I'm not quite used to traveling outside the Vault yet," she admits. Even under the circumstances, she's not about to say I have never been anywhere other than way, way, way underground in my entire life before today.

[rare_softness]

"Better get used to it. If you're running into the kind of trouble that requires assault rifles, you can't afford to be carrying around that kind of psychological baggage."

This is the closest to helpful Chainsaw has gotten this entire conversation. Aww.

[mm_cam]

"Actually, the rifle came off a man who was trying to tunnel into the Vault," she says, with a bit of a smile. "But, yes, I'm working on it. One step at a time, that's all."

[rare_softness]

"And what was he trying to tunnel into the Vault for?"

That's the most interesting question, isn't it?

[mm_cam]

Given what was hanging from the ceiling in the gymnasium, the chains in the corridors, the- displays- staked to random walls...

"Probably supplies," she says, a little distantly. "And people. I don't know. That's my best guess."

[rare_softness]

"Hm."

Next question-- and not one she expects the liveling can answer too well, but it's been bugging her.

"So what's the Vault?"

[mm_cam]

"Vault 101. The sealed facility where I-" Her breath catches a moment. "Where I used to live, I guess. Until Dad left, anyway. I'm trying to find him now- he's a middle-aged man a few inches taller than me. Have you seen him? He looks a lot like me..."

[rare_softness]

"Hm. Nope."

Chainsaw grins.

"I'll keep an eye out, though. Might as well. What's his name? For that matter, what's yours?"

[mm_cam]

"James. I mean- that's my father's name. Mine's Ellen. What's yours?"

[rare_softness]

"Chainsaw."

[mm_cam]

Well, it's the surface... Her first instinct is to look for one. When it doesn't appear to be in evidence, she smiles politely instead. "Very good to meet you, Ms. Chainsaw."

[rare_softness]

"No Ms.," she corrects, mildly amused. "Just Chainsaw."

[mm_cam]

"Oh- I'm sorry." She dips her head apologetically. "The only other surface dweller I've met who gave a name was Dr. Clemson."

[rare_softness]

"Surface dweller, huh?"

She grins.

"I could debate that one, but okay."