...Right. Downtime. Shit.What's wrong with downtime?I don't know what to do in those times. I keep myself useful, or else the Steady boost is wasted. This stuff doesn't have fun withdrawal, kid.What stuff?Steady, dumbass. Vapors that calm the hands and let me work properly. Without it I'm too jittery... Hell, whatever. You're going to be useful, so Pack Leader won't eat you when he gets bored.You're not sure if he actually eats people, but he doesn't seem like the type to make empty threats. Not to mention: super mutants aren't known for their delicate palate, they'll eat anything with nutrients.
When the last time you ate?She doesn't say anything. Looking her over, with her dark hair and unhealthy lack of meat on the bones probably answers that. You can't help but feel a small pang of sympathy for the kid.
Oh hell, Diaz. Don't get too attached. You think to yourself as you run your hand through your scraggly beard.
Shit, fine. We'll prepare that gecko. Might as well teach you something. Also, lesson number one: Don't trust what Chef makes. Dude doesn't love cooking, he just likes watching meat sizzle. I was really damned happy when his flamer broke, let me tell youWhat's a flamer?Post-war design of a flamethrower: Basically sprays some flammable gas in front of a small little flame. Fwoosh, and you've got roasted assholes. The smell alone could knock you over.... Burning people alive? That's...Worst way to go, by far. Shit, I've seen it take an hour for one guy to finally die. Sure ruined my fucking appetite that day. You shudder as you remember that particular moment. It made it very, very clear that Pack Leader does not mince words when he says "don't steal from me". Poor bastard just wanted a YumYum deviled egg, for fuck's sake.
Alright kid, go pick up some branches from the armory. Bulletpoint's an ok dude, kinda stupid, but he's alright. He won't try anything. And take a piece of metal with you, that'll come in handy after we're done cooking. The kid nods and disappears into the tent. You don't trust anybody with the kid, to be fair, but Bulletpoint's too much of a wet blanket to try anything stupid. You move to the mess hall, in the meantime, to get your meal.
You carry the gecko out of the mess tent, counting your lucky stars Chef was too busy watching the meat sizzle and pop. You even manage to get some kindling along the way, though it's getting a little heavy.
str check: 7/6) You meet Barrels on your way out, the disgusting bastard isn't wearing a shirt again, though with the amount of hair he's got he hardly needs it. Nothing but hair on that guy, and the smell... He smells like a corpse, really.
Hey, Diaz! I saw you playing with your little friend. You mind sharing her when you're done? he says, grinning like a jackal.
You look at him with the best withering stare you can manage. Your scarred face, along with your natural knowledge of human beings lets it be particularly effective, and you see some color fade from Barrels' face as he quickly leaves.(
Roll: d20+7=15) That should make the point clear, and you make a note to tell the kid to put the earlier shanking practice to use if he tries anything. You drag the gecko corpse to the kid, and lay it down on the ash. She brought just the amount of materials you were hoping for
Alright kid, good haul. Now, we're going to be making some jerky out of this thing, alright? Watch me while I work, this isn't too hard. You take your rebar shank, and use the point to start cutting into the meat. It's not ideal, and you'd prefer an edge, but hell. You don't exactly have the resources to make really good jerky, to begin with. This shit hardly works as travel food, you don't have the salt to make it keep. Although...
You think back to your first kill, shortly after you were exiled. That lady had some odd jerky on her, sweet instead of salty. You think about it for a while, but then you connect the dots. You may not have salt, but you've got sugar!
Survival check (60) d100+27= 78. It seems a bit odd to you, but sweet jerky should work out. You tell the kid to go back to the armory and pick up a small bag of salt. Marked with an "S". She stares at you for a while, but she gets it when you draw the S in the ash. She's back pretty fast, though she's already a little winded from the short run.
Right, so. You see all this fat? Tastes great, lets you survive, but doesn't keep for shit. So, when you're making jerky, you cut it off. Or pull it, in this case.You "loosen" it with your rebar shank, to allow easier pulling. You can't remove all of it perfectly, but enough that it aught to be fine. You set up a drying rack and place the pieces of meat on the pole.
Now, this "papa" figure, the one on the pike, left us with something we can use. We actually raided him for that sugar, you know? Pays for a lot of cigs.The kid is just staring at the meat, saltivating.
Shit, right. Well, we're leaving that stuff to dry for couple hours, let's make something edible out of what's left, yeah? Y-yes please! She says, nodding vigerously. It's endearing, especially with that small trail of drool flying off her chin. Damn it, she has to be hungry.
Right. I'll get you the best part. You cut into the dead gecko's thigh, and after some extended swearing, pulling and repeated stabbing (mixed with a bit of kicking), you eventually manage to cut the leg loose from the body. You just snap the leg off at the knee, leaving only the thigh. The creature's been dead long enough that there's not too much blood leakage, so you don't have to worry about your clothes (a ragged undershirt, patched with brahmin hide and 200 years old jeans) getting messier. You put a solid piece of wood and jam it through the softer parts of the muscular thigh. Then, you start a fire using the kindling and the fire striker you took along with the kindling. The sparks fly free, and the cheap pre-war money ignites long enough to let the rest burn. The stuff doesn't smell great, but hell.
You start spinning the make-shift rotissary, and then realize you're going to be like this for about twenty minutes. Well, you're prepared for this.
Kid?How long will this take? She says, staring at the gecko leg with an almost hypnotized look.
Decent bit. But listen up. Grab that piece of metal, and then pick up a rock. I want you to grind that metal against the rock until you've got something sharp. Like my rebar shank, get it? J-just... Rub it?Like you mean it, Kid.She gets to work on it. Her puny little arms aren't exactly going to get it done in those 20 minutes, but it'll keep the both of you busy. You tell her some other things you know.
Ok, let this be an important lesson. These ashen plains are as fucked as it gets when it comes to messed up soil. Don't EVER dig past the ash layer. The amount of rads down there will turn you into a walking corpse in no time. Or, if you're lucky, you'll just die. You mean ghouls, right?Call the fucking zombies what you want, I don't care. They're ugly fuckers that'll try to eat you eventually. Sometimes their brain just 'ain't caught up with their body, get it? ...ok. She continues whittling down the metal while you turn the meat.
Got an idea for a name yet? You say, opening your eyes after dreaming away for a moment.
She looks up from the metal she's whittling, and doesn't look you in the eye, as if she did something wrong. She hums in a manner that sounds like a groan.
Hey, it's cool. It's just easier if you had one. Want me to think of one?She looks at you with one eyebrow raised and her head cocked to the side.
Friedrika Van Blitzenburg!She stares for a moment, before breaking out into giggles. It's contagious enough for you to give a half laugh as you grin ever so slightly.
Don't you like it? I read it in a comic book once.But that's so stupid! Well, "Miss Friedrika", I'd try to find something better pretty soon, then. You grin again, leaning back as you switch arms on the rotisserie. Smells pretty good already!
What about... Blitz!? Shit, not bad. Quick and easy, I guess. I'm... I'm not sure yet, though. Can I think about it a little longer?Whatever. Keep whittling for a few more minutes, you're getting your food in a moment. When the meat is finally finished, you give her the meat haunch. She tears into it like a starving dog, though the heat is enough to deter her ever so slightly. You get to work on cooking some othe scraps of meat for yourself as she tears into her piece of meat. It's still pretty large, of course, so she won't be done too fast. The sun is shining down, but it's not too warm, despite the open area. Ash takes up the heat pretty well, you find, so while the ground can be pretty toasty, the actual general heat is pretty alright. And, hell, who isn't used to a little sun every now and again?
You hear some yelling from the camp, but it doesn't seem like anything out of the ordinary. Just people eating, if you had to guess. Sun's getting pretty low...
You can see Bulletpoint heading your way, and you give him a wave. He's as much of a fan of Chef's meat as you are, and you have too much gecko for just the two of you. Considering you're just baking some of the quicker stuff, and some organ meat, you'll be able to give him some stuff.
As the three of you eat without a word, the girl mainly because she fell asleep after her meal, you hear some more yelling from camp. Oh hell, this sounds like actual trouble.
Shit, probably more geckos or something. Fuck it, they can handle it themselves.The kid snores softly, and you don't really feel like checking it out either. But...
Do you check up on the gang?Combat StatsHP: 215/215
Weapon: .357 revolver (6 shots remaining) (requires 0.3 second to fire, 0.7 to cock the hammer for the next shot) (reloading takes 0.7 seconds per bullet) (Can be "aimed" for a bonus to hit and allowing you to hit specific parts of the body) (Loses accuracy beyond 5 squares, by 5 percent per square) (STEADY bonus: adding 30 percent to hit) (90 percent chance to hit, not modified for range) (does 36 damage)
Raider Rags (1 DT) (equipped) (Light armor)
9 .357 bullets
Emergency Shank (unequipped, takes 0.3 seconds to take out. 0.5 seconds to stab something)
STRENGTH 7
PERCEPTION 5
ENDURANCE 6
CHARISMA 7
INTELLIGENCE 4
AGILITY 5
LUCK 6
Barter: 19
Energy Weapons: 15
Explosives: 15
Guns:30
Lockpick: 30
Medicine:13
Melee weapons: 19
Repair: 28
Science: 13
Sneak:30
Speech:19
Survival: 27
Unarmed: 19
Iron Stomach: Your extended life as an outcast left you with a strong stomach. Radiation and general filth does not affect you nearly as much
Weird Wasteland: Maybe it's that blow to the head, but things seem a little more loopy and funny. Some things seem to happen that shouldn't. Well, it's nothing bad, at least.
EXP 'till Level-up: 35/100 (Gecko X2) (Finished combat X1) (Proper food (kind of) X1)
Just noticed I forgot to add the origin bonus to survival. Now fixed.
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Topic: Fallout: Raiders of Louisiana (Read 42023 times)