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Strain


Mission: Teacher's Pet

Location: Lighthouse Island





"Did we get away with stuff? I mean, if I told you, I'd have to kill you."
Oh Look I'm So Edgy, Everyone's So Terrified, So Cool, Oh Noooooooooo


Lucian let out a laugh at the kid's smarminess. He was getting flashbacks of his younger self...crap, he was only 19. But even so it still felt like ages ago he was the snot-nosed twerp his stepfather drilled into the guy he was today. A kid out to face the world, stubborn and angry and stupid as all hell. This kid was so reminiscent of some of that it could only make him laugh. Sure he had a point about the robot cops, but so what if the city was safer because of them? Heroes did their job, and the robo-cops did theirs. It was all helping people, and to the hero known as "Strain" that was all that mattered...people being safer and able to live their lives. He would fight until the day he died for that.

But that was perhaps going a bit far beyond the point.

"Look, kid. Even if you don't go goody-two-shoes, there's a lotta' people who'd still want to kick...much more kill your ass. Hell, even kidnap ya' and exploit the hell outta' ya' till ya drop dead or worse just cause' you have powers.

But that kinda' stuff don't sink in, least' until it happens outta' the blue. Ya' never think it's gonna happen, then BAM. Kid next to ya' is dead. Someone's tryin' to run. Guy in front of ya' is looking at ya' like the next thing ta' check off on his little list, or is hidin' behind some mask and lookin' at ya' like yer' a tool e' needs at the store."


Lucian thumped his chest with one fist for a second, coughing and trying to reel himself back in. Too much of 'Brookside Luce' there for this situation. Too much. Was easy to fall into that and get a bit stuck. No. 'Brookside Luce' had some point at least, as crude as he'd delivered it to the kids. Lucian, no, Strain needed to try to talk some sense into the kids. If that failed, try to at least not knock the kid senseless. Tough love only went so far.

But then came the note, which was eventually passed along to him.

'Oh no.'

A fake villain atta-...was Principal Lee out of her mind?! He'd go along with this for her sake and the mission beyond, but heck that was one way to cheapen the experience for the kids. That and an underpaid teacher looking for revenge was a risk. Or not. Standard humans trying to tackle superpowered kids down was one idea, and not totally farfetched at all to be frank, but at the same time it left a bad taste in Strain's mouth to do it. That or it risked some actual shenanigans happening, depending on whatever was going on with this stunt.

Either way, Lucian kept oddly silent as the group moved into the yard. Beyond that, however, he cracked a smirk inside his mask as Blaze tried to get them to race her.

"If one of you beat her to the top I'll shovel out $10 to the winner. You all beat her without blowing the thing up and you get $10 each. I've got the cash for it before we leave later, if you've got the two seconds of patience for it now."

Bribery. He'd brought fifty bucks here just in case he had to stoop to it. Small cash for him in the long run, even if someone potentially nabbed it. No idea what approach they'd be trying to use, at least on his end, so he'd tried to come in with an idea. Anything from tough love to the simple stuff. He preferred the later, truth be told, but he'd seen a lot of the former before...

@Cu Chulainn@SSW


<Snipped quote by Yam I Am>

I envisioned them being in tatters, but I'm not 100% stuck to that.


<Snipped quote by Jeddaven>
I don't think it's out of the picture for them to be on their last legs by the end of Fallout 3. With the BoS' expansion and the Lone Wanderer doing a number on them, I could see it being a case to where they'd be firmly on their back heel...or successfully integrated into the BoS.

I was gonna leave it up to the final verdict of @Crusader Lord, since they'd have the most control over that area as it stands.


What Yam said is basically the case for the most part. Talon Company would not have been allowed to just shoot the place up as Sarah's BoS went to secure the Capital Wasteland, but not simply gunned down on sight outright either. I can imagine a number looked at the prospect of full-paying official work and took the chance, whilst those who don't want to give up the merc life either fought back (and lost) or were driven out in the end.

I'd venture to say most were incorporated into the BoS and as local Republic troops otherwise, and a minority fought back only to get shot up hard and either die or be driven out. Anyone left would be a small handful at best, probably living that mercenary life away from the Capital Wasteland but tempted to go Raider.

Or at least this is all that I imagined would have happened to them. If Yam wants to rule some otherwise, like them being fully integrated or dead at this point to keep things simpler, then I'm chill.
The Xandalian Republic


The Meeting Place


"After The Resolution"





Christensen sat at his desk, terminal in front of him as he leaned back with a small sigh. It had been a hell of a situation, to say the least.

Within the first six months of the gates reopening, a thing once thought impossible, and a war of all things had broken out. The Zetans had been ganged up on by the Undefeated and the Earth Cultural Union, who had launched an invasion that had likely taken quite the toll on the Zetan population. Besides, his own formerly stated suspicions to Sigma-Devi about the Zetans' nature was something the Senate had seemed to believe by this point. A collective consciousness, a hive mind really, filled with individual will but tied together like a beehive. It was fascinating, but it did bring up one major question..."what did it mean to be human"?

That was the big ticket thing there, and in truth the question would likely take a long time to answer on the part of the former colonies.

As for himself, he was glad he'd been able to participate in it all. Drawing attention to the event, and the ensuing further exterior condemnation from other nations to boot, had proven quite the tactic. But that had also been the Senate's plan in the first place: "End Things Peacefully If Possible". Or, at least that was the proper national front the Senate presented. Truth be told, even now the Xandalian Republic was also sending military cargo craft and other relief to assist the Zetans in their post-war recovery efforts. From there it'd be work to build better relations with the Zetans in terms of trade and so forth.

But it was important to note that the Republic wasn't simply tossing out words before either. The real motto they'd gone by in all of this was "Fight If Necessary, End Things Peacefully If Possible". The Senate had begun military mobilization after his announcement at the Meeting Place, which was one reason they'd been able to transition rather rapidly and more easily into sending relief efforts. Then an ECU Protector had tried to shoot him, only for a cocky youngster Oligarch who had seemed to come to challenge the Envoy to instead try to pull a gun on the wannabe assassin. After that he'd ultimately subdued the bloated lummox of a man who had tried to merc him, but the man had died before he could be taken into custody by Xandalian security from their area of the Meeting Place. Hmm...

...it was a shame, really. He'd have liked to drag information out of the guy himself, to get an understanding about the ECU from the inside. After all, the work to maintain peace wasn't always sunshine and happy politics. Sometimes you had people in the shadows, like himself those years ago, who kept it and maintained it one way or another and kept the people happy. But that was that, he supposed, and he was far more glad to be in a diplomatic role now. It let him have more time to call his grandkids during the off hours!

Christensen had also sent a box of non-Thalarite medicine to the ECU's wing, all intended to help Tanaka in his recovery, and a small gift to boot. A mini music player in the form of a tiny 'jukebox' that played music from old Western movies. Heh. Thing had been close to gathering dust at his home for some time, he had used to listen to it often before being reassigned here. It would of course be in good hands. Miniaturized vintage tech, none of the new Thalarite stuff, and something his great-grandfather had passed down in the family as a sort-of heirloom. Maybe the Earth-crazy cowpoke would enjoy it.

What would come next, though? That would be the most interesting thing to see after all of this.

Republic of the Capital Wasteland


-Sarah Lyons' Office, The Citadel-





Sarah Lyons sat at her chair as Elder, head held in her hands as her elbows rested on the metal desk itself.

Damned paperwork. Every. Single. Day. But that was what it took to keep things running in this Republic she and the Lyons' Pride Brotherhood had worked to forge. Over two decades of work, blood, sweat, and tears, and finally her father's dream for the Capital Wasteland was rudimentarily achieved in 'well enough' order at least. She'd learned a lot in the past two decades and counting, both on and behind the front lines, all mostly thanks to that kid from Vault 101...well, she was far from a kid these days at least. The 'kid' was 30 years old in her own right, and she herself was 47 by this point and had a kid of her own for pity's sake! It was a hell of a thing to think about in retrospect.

Sarah glanced from her desk at the half-empty bottle of scotch near her, leftover from a 'few sips' the prior night after getting off of work. Ugh. It had taken some meds to get the pain to go down, though she'd refused the use of one of the Senatorial members' own 'homemade hangover cures' at the morning meeting.

But it all still felt worth it to stick it to that damned golden boy of the Brotherhood, though, whose death she still celebrated once a year. Last night had been that night to celebrate, though it was just her and a certain former vault dweller that had been the celebrators. All sitting alone in her dimly-lit office after turning things down. Hell. She could still see the look in the damn fool's eye the last time he saw her face to face, getting her hopes up for a moment that the kid she'd trained to shoot super mutants was in there somewhere. But after Maxson left...

...hell, why did he leave them alone here?! They still had scraps stored from the battle at Adams, and enough defectors that the Elders out West would have made them a damned target for insurrection! So why in the hell did he just leave them alone! He was the golden boy and promised messiah of the Brotherhood of Steel, he'd gone from a child who seemed to tag shyly along and talked to robots to becoming a real monster. Saying one thing and doing another. A fundamentalist that went right back to the roots of what the Brotherhood had done wrong in the past, blasting apart anything that didn't surrender its food and tech and bend the knee!

The damned man had desecrated all her father had stood for, all she had come to stand for, and endangered the Brotherhood...all for what? To go fly his giant-ass blimp over to the Commonwealth and die to the pissed-off locals somehow? Really? What was how the great 'Elder Maxson' had gone down? Blown apart like no-one's business. Dead. Leaving her and the people he left behind in his stupidity to pick up the pieces.

She clenched her right fist, and even beneath the gloves she wore as part of her Elder attire Sarah could feel her knuckles turning white. Damned Maxson. He haunted her even now, the fool of a boy. To that end, the Elder grabbed up the bottle and took a small chug before slamming it back down onto the metal table with a loud 'clank'.

This time she'd done things right, though, no more foolish youthful notions and idiotic charging into battle to die. She kept on those who would accept her people's viewpoint, kicked out those who didn't want to stay, and kept the former Maxonites out whenever they passed by. Not that they wanted to join. Same general concept was applied when she went to Adams to secure the place, and hell it had been a wreck internally as the leadership was reeling from the loss of the bastard. Most stayed, most took on her viewpoint, and since then she'd secured her power base thoroughly in mindset, tenants, and so forth. They still secured tech, but at least now they used it to help the Capital Wasteland and its people as well to boot. It had taken time, really, but hell all of the efforts and pain and the like were worth it in the end to see things getting genuinely better around the Capital Wasteland itself.

Trees were growing, having expanded a good ways beyond the Oasis by this point. Purified, clean water was being piped to or sent in bottles to local settlements to provide clean hydration for the first time in over two-hundred years. The Super Mutant threat was gone, and what was left was under their purview and training and control. Hell, even Paradise Falls had been blasted clean off of the face of the Wasteland and resettled by the former slaves and had been changed into the processing point for myriad new immigrants that were arriving in the Capital Wasteland.

But that was also the problem, as a number of the papers in front of her had told of so very well.

They had the supplies for the most part right now, but they were working to settle and organize the newcomers and get things laid out safely. Sometimes the errant small group would slip past and try to take over any old spot as their own land, and this could cause local conflict that didn't help matters. Swelling the ranks of the Republic's military to have a non-Brotherhood branch had done wonders for this at times, and combined with brotherhood training and discipline they were properly-controlled and well-managed soldier-police. Didn't solve all the problems, but it allowed them to respond to them more quickly and ensure things didn't spiral out of control.

Any bigger threats, though, and the Brotherhood was there to snuff it out themselves. Migrating Deathclaws, Children of Atom Zealots occasionally trying to force their way in towards Megaton, Raiders trying to prey on the migrants coming their way or attempting to push into the Capital Wasteland again from outside, and even hostile Super Mutants seeking FEV from Vault 87 or just to kill and take over otherwise, all were pains in her ass and the Republic's ass. But at least they were manageable 'exterior' threats. That was the key word there. Exterior. Not a constant internal thing that was as bad as it once was. Though speaking of possible internal threats the Republic was even now still just 'keeping an eye' on those damned blood-drinkers calling themselves "The Family". Only reason they didn't go in there to wipe them out was since they seemed to be keeping a steady and non-aggressive peace with the locals at Arefu, and so they hadn't become a problem that 'needed fixing' as of yet.

Letting out a defeated sigh, Sarah put her arms down and grabbed a nearby pen. She'd finish signing the last of these resource allocation papers, and then it would be heading out for some fresh air and greenery. Harold had donated some seeds to bring some green to the Citadel as well, at least after they had managed to help him sort some things out and cut a deal with him and the Treeminders, and after enough years it had become a very welcome sight. A happier one, calling back to a better time she'd never known.

At least she had the day off tomorrow to be home with her husband and son.

Since @TheEvanCat is threatening to send the 101st Airborne to slit my throat in my sleep over mentioning that that Almont is part of the "New England Wastes", does anyone have a better idea for the region that'd compose of Upstate New York and maybe the East Great Lakes?


"Chowder Town" or "New Freedom Wasteland" could suffice. lol.
Strain


Mission: Teacher's Pet

Location: Lighthouse Island





Lucian had to blink for a moment, even if it was hidden by his mask. Was...was Principal Lee being sarcast-...no, she would have the right to he figured. If anyone. Every day. Mmm. Better to not think about it any harder than he was doing so already. However, the younger hero did let out a small and very quiet 'tch' under his breath all the same before heading in with the others to meet the troublemakers. It wouldn't be too much of a trip to get there either, though they ended up being left there in a hurry as Principal Lee just up and bolted.

Sure the kids were in a bubble, but he wasn't taking chances either. Vibration Manipulation, Pyro-and-Electro-kinesis, and then the most worrisome gravity manipulation. A joy. Stray seemed to go about chatting to them first as well, though the older man's new protégé seemed to be a tad more naïve than he'd seemed in the first place. Lucian himself just stood back for a minute with crossed arms, leaning against a wall as he looked the kids over from the depths of his mask. Analysis of the targets, basically, was the name of the game. Keeping an eye in case things could, or would, go wrong.

Was a sense of deja-vu to him in some manner as he looked them over, though he couldn't help but smirk after a particular thought hit his mind. Maybe? Maybe. Either way was worth a shot. Thus as soon as Stray was done speaking, Lucian himself briefly piped up at the kids.

"Just gonna' ask too, but did you guys at least get somethin' 'good' before they grabbed ya' up? Or at least stuck a guy to the ceilin' or somethin'?" the younger man said casually, giving a small tilt of the head and a shrug before re-crossing his arms.

He wasn't acting, even if he was still keeping a careful and disciplined eye on them (and the smoke at the top of the bubble for that matter) from under his rather concealing mask. He frankly didn't give a crap what they did in response for the most part. He was just falling back into a bit of his old Brookside self for a second, really, wanting to curiously see if they at least made the stupid spree worth it. Then again it was just alcohol and smokes, and they'd maybe just smarm back or something.

Either way it 'maybe' got them to do something...and tested the idea he was trying to formulate. No offense to his old teacher of course. A little prod to see what they'd say or do at least, if anything.
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