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“Um… Hi?”

A greeting turns into a question as you stand there in the snow, a cylinder of sizzling metal falling from your arm and colliding with the dirt as a host of beady eyes trade glances between it and you.

“Do any of you understand what I’m saying, by any chance?”

“Chitter-chitter…. Chitter-chitter-chitter!” comes the unintelligible response.

“Right…”

Science is a truly amazing thing, and its inventions shall forever be the benchmarks of human progress. From medicines to fight diseases, materials that let buildings soar toward the heaven, data and studies that give way to a more harmonious social order, and electricity to light people’s homes all have their place there.

“Chitter-Chitter!”

Of course, for every bright side there is a darkness to be found, a disease developed for every cure made to an old one, bombs that can eradicate cities, and apparently now intelligent racoons, who despite not being able to communicate with you seem to be having an easy enough time debating amongst themselves what to do about your sudden appearance in their little neck of the woods.

“Listen,” you offer, giving communications one last try. “I get that we’re encroaching, but you can’t have Arya. She’s already got a boyfriend that can make power armor out of a few scraps of metal and some rocks that’d be down here in sight of a week to blow you all to hell.”

“Hey! Zzzt,” comes the objection from the eyebot lying on the ground. “Lu-Zzzt-cius is not my boy Zzzt friend!”

“Of course not…” you sigh, noting that the assembled, fuzzy bandits now seem at least more confused than hostile. “Anyway, Major, if you would kindly stay back and not make things any worse.”

“Roger! Just let me know if we’re going to need grenades.”

“Wait! You have grenades? How do you have grenades? Also, why?”

“Of course, I’ve got grenades. You don’t?”

“Well, I do, but-”

“Please Zzzt tell me they aren’t those gas grenades you were talking about…”

“No, they aren’t, ye damn hippy, but I keep tellin’ you-“

You tune them out in favor of devoting your processing power to the situation at hand, trying to think how to get your message across to the bizarre, indigenous species into whose territory, Arya stumbled.

> What to do?
> [] Just calmly approach and take Arya. They can’t stop you.
> [] Try to pantomime what you intend, after getting their attention somehow.
> [] Offer them something in exchange. What?
> [] Other
>>
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>>2100027

For new players, welcome to Fallout: Last Spark, a post-apocalyptic game where-in you take up the role of an artificial intelligence originally designed to protect and serve the citizens of Seattle in event of catastrophes both natural and man-made. Woken after a two century nap, you are now back on the path to reclaim your city and tame the post-apocalypse.

For those who want to follow me on twitter for quest announcements and the like:
https://twitter.com/bananon_QM

All previous threads can be found here:
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?searchall=fallout%3A+last+spark
>>
>>2100027
>[] Try to pantomime what you intend, after getting their attention somehow.
>Other: use the still hot spike to start writing on a tree; even if they can't speak English, maybe they can read it?
>>
>>2100047
I'm disappointed than an Engineer Raccoon hasn't stepped up to the plate to try to out-engineer the human.
>>
>>2100027
>> [] Offer them something in exchange. What?
Got any meatbag fuel? (Food?)
>>
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>>2100214
>>2100094
>>2100027

“Look,” you say, loud enough to get a few heads and guns turned your way. “I want her.”

You point to the sphere, then mime pulling it to you.

“Then, I’ll leave,” you say, pointing out of camp.

“Chitter-Chitter.”

The collective doesn’t really seem to know what to make of your gesture or doesn’t care as they continue bickering amongst themselves.

“Umm, other me… I think they might be hungry,” Arya chimes in, as you return your focus to her and note the racoon tapping its wiry fingers across her shell and sniffing the singed electronics. “I think that’s what the electric fence was for.”

You take a closer look at the scene and with it, pick up on something you hadn’t seen before, metallic wires buried amongst the leaves and branches and the probable cause for Arya’s malfunction. There also seem to be the occasional blood spots or remnants of bait indicating that other things may have similarly stumbled into this trap.

“Do you want food, then?”

Naturally, those that bother looking at you just give you a blank expression, and so, you mime to your mouth, making eating noises before pointing back to Arya. This, at least, seems to strike a chord with them as they begin chittering more excitedly amongst themselves, pointing to Arya and what appears to be a manhole concealed amidst a pile of snow. Finally, the oldest and biggest looking creature seems to turn to you, chattering what you suspect is a proposal involving food given his miming with the promise of the strange, metal coconut in return.

> Great. So, seems like you are going hunting, then…
> Roll 1d100 to search for game
> Specify hunting tactic and specific prey.
>>
Rolled 12 (1d100)

>>2100440
Are we anywhere near the water still? Raccoons love shellfish as I remember, and it'd probably be pretty easy to take down another crab, or find a giant mollusk to crack open for them.
>>
Rolled 77 (1d100)

>>2100440
Take to the trees, or at least as high an elevation as we can manage safely.
Use infrared to track down birds and bird nests, and take them out with low power lasers while the DAVID collects eggs.
>>
Rolled 38 (1d100)

>>2100440
Let's go grenade fishing.
>>
>>2100663
In all seriousness, let's not.
Besides the mirelurks that could be attracted by it, the mer-people would likely not appreciate it.
>>
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>>2100440
>>2100513
>>2100542

> 77

“Fishing sounds easy enough,” you conclude, and there are plenty of rivers nearby where you can try your luck.

With that in mind, you leave the racoons with the Major as your lookout and try to find the nearest body of water that your records indicate. Unfortunately, the first turns up nothing but a dry creek bed where a landslide probably choked the river off, but it still doesn’t take you too long to find running water. Whether or not there is still sizeable fish to be caught in it is another matter.

You wait for a long moment there on the shore, thermal vision trained sharply as you scan for any sign of heat in the near frozen water. Smaller fish and minnows float by, at least, giving you hope, but the bigger catches initially prove elusive, that is, until you suddenly see half a school disappear and the rest scatter in the wake of a sudden opening of a hidden mouth along the bottom. It seems you found your mark.

There’s nothing flashy about the takedown from there. It’s a predator that relies on stealth, and for all intents and purposes, you are in your own separate world from him. That is, until you send a superheated spike launching outward and shatter that barrier, sending up a cloud of blood and brown mud as your shot strikes true before casually going for your mark.

However, to your shock, a metal spike through the head alone doesn’t seem enough to have killed this thing, the horrific resemblance of a catfish thrashing up out of the water in apparent defiance of its death before it goes speeding downstream at an absurd clip. One thing is for certain, however, and that you are not losing this fish, a second spike and a third flying into the river bed before your last finally strikes clean through its tail and pins the dim creature to something solid.

Resources being precious as they are, you know that you’ll have to recover those before you leave, a fact that has you mentally cursing even as you move to throttle the fish now frantically flailing back and forth. Fortunately, it seems that you struck through a fat enough portion of its body that tearing out the wound isn’t proving easy, giving you your opportunity. Wading in knee deep in the icy water, your short stature almost proves a stumbling block, but as the fish lashes back around, presumably trying to bite at you, a pair of mechanical hands spear it through the gills and you slam it head first into the bank.
>>
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>>2100963


… Or at least, that’s what you thought you did, but it seems that the fish’s head is staring back at you still as something crunches into the bank. It’s a half-second’s confusion and another brutal slam before you truly realize what’s going on, a pair of skulls now flattened against a sizeable rock and blood flowing down into the water as what must be a forty pound, double-headed catfish finally lies still.

Well, you have your fish, and as you look around carefully in the aftermath, retrieving your spears and making sure that the ruckus hadn’t attracted any predators, you realize something else. There are footprints along this shore, deep footprints of the sort only power armor would make.

> Curious…
> [] Get that fish and go. You need your sister machine back.
> [] Try to follow the footprints.
> [] Other
>>
>>2100973
>> [] Get that fish and go. You need your sister machine back.
Well, you need that eyebot back anyway.
>>
>>2100973
> [] Get that fish and go. You need your sister machine back.
First things first
>>
>>2100973
> [] Get that fish and go. You need your sister machine back.
>Other: mark the location of the footprints, send the data to the Major and Arya, attempt to predict where the trail would go to.
We’ll follow up with the footprints once we have Arya and her set of eyes to help us track this.
>>
>>2100973
>> [] Get that fish and go. You need your sister machine back.
Although we should try to pantomime what we saw to the raccoons, to get a small bit of information.
>>
>>2100973
>>2100987
>>2100995
>>2101000
>>2101002

You grab the fish as best you can, realizing quickly that the fact it is taller means you’ll have to content yourself with a bit of grime carrying it back. Blood and mud and slime to boot, this day just keeps getting better, but you don’t let it become too much of an obsession as you maneuver your way back with the world’s worst smelling boa around your neck.

At the very least, when you enter the camp something like a half hour later, you find the rodents you plan on bargaining with very interested in your prize, the few remaining above-ground immediately moving up to try to retrieve your catch before you put up your hand to ward them off.

“Her first,” you say, motioning to Arya, a cue which the racoons seem to oblige as her keeper begins slowly rolling her in your direction, unintentionally encasing her in a snowball twice her size.

No sense raising a fuss when a bit of heat will fix that. So, you let things proceed as they are. When she is in grabbing distance, you present the fish and let the two creatures patiently waiting with paws outstretched, take it off your hands, the duo dragging it along and leaving a trail of blood as they happily smuggle it back to their burrow and duck inside. A couple of other racoons move to join them, but not all, some of the older looking specimens still with firearms ready in case you try to do something.

Granted, it’s a force that you wouldn’t feel bad about your odds engaging, you instead turn your attention to Arya, and try to figure out exactly what went wrong, A few blown capacitors is what it looks like, and some spaces in need of a good discharge and manual reboot, but she’ll live, something you’ll breathe a sigh of relief over when you aren’t having to move on to the next problem.
>>
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>>2101134

“Hey,” you call to the racoon elders, getting a questioning chitter in response. “I saw something out in the snow. Have you seen this?”

You begin scratching the outline of the boot print in the snow, not quite sure how you’ll convince them to come over and look at it, but it seems natural curiosity does a lot of the work for you, two of the remaining staff moving up to watch you work, their tails swishing curiously as the outline becomes clearer. In the end, you only have to get halfway through before one of them lets out an angry hiss.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then,” you guess, “but what is it?”

You gesture back to the woods, and stab your fingers along in the snow to try to paint a non-verbal picture for them, drawing a rut where a river should be. In response, the hissing racoon chitters irascibly, slashing a crude picture in the snow next to yours that looks like a more nightmarish, even demonic power armor helm before scribbling out something that looks like a racoon next to it, and drawing an “X” through it.

“Ah. So, they aren’t friends,” you surmise.

> Interesting…
> [] Try to get more information out of them, somehow…
> [] Try to go back and track the prints yourself
> [] Screw this for now. You have a vault to find.
> [] Other
>>
>>2101146
>> [] Try to go back and track the prints yourself
Best case scenario? A new friend. Worst case scenario? Power armor spare parts.
>>
>>2101146
> [] Try to get more information out of them, somehow…
Try drawing the insignias of the BOS and the Enclave to see who it might be.

Also, see if they'd like to meet up again to trade sometime.
>>
>>2101146

Gonna check out here for the night and get some sleep. Will pick back up tomorrow.
>>
>>2101146
>Screw this for now. You have a vault to find.
Let's make contact after securing the doges and the future of the metro.
>>
>>2101146
> [] Screw this for now. You have a vault to find.
We’ll come back to this after the Vault. We need to see if the Vault has a weapon we can use to punch through power armor just in case anyway.
>>
>>2101146
>[] Try to go back and track the prints yourself
No telling if it'll snow and we'll lose the tracks.
>>
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>>2102895
>>2102512
>>2101389
>>2101188
>>2101181
>>2101146

You wish you could be in two places at once. Well, you suppose in point of fact, you -are-: three if you count your server. Still, as it applies to the woods, you find yourself wishing you could split yet again in a way that wouldn’t endanger the units you brought with you.

Before long, those prints might be covered up by the falling snow, but you also can’t forget the reason why you came here. The Metro was going to need as much help as it could get and every minute you spent chasing after a shadow in the woods was one that your enemies were being given free reign to try to cripple your allies or network. You sigh as you think over your options, flipping open your frazzled sister’s wiring panels to take a closer look.

“Hey, other me…” Arya whispers after a few minutes. “Zzt Look!”

It seems yet more furry eyes have peaked out from beneath the snow in the time you’ve been preoccupied, ones that seem oddly large in their small frames as what must be infant raccoons watch you work. A growl from further back in the den holds them fast at halfway out, but they seem to be chittering excitedly as they look at you, perhaps the first mechanized lifeform they’ve seen.

Then again, a thought occurs that you might be able to test that theory…

“Hey,” you wave over the raccoons you’d been ‘conversing’ with before and begin scrawling a new image into the snow.

This time, you draw emblems, first one for the Brotherhood of Steel with its winged sword and then a second one for the Enclave for them to observe. Once again, you don’t even have to finish the star-spangled letter E and draw a connection to the demon helmet before there’s an immediate reaction from the pre-war vermin, the two chattering excitedly to themselves before darting for their elder who despite trying to swat away their coaxing, eventually relents.
>>
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>>2105624

He makes a fuss as he waddles over on two legs, gun still in paws. Apparently tired of this whole business, he looks to you with a sort of tired apprehension before turning to the symbol, trading glances as though seeming to ask what you mean by it. In return, you draw a line between it and the demonic looking helmet and give what you hope is a questioning look along with a prerecorded chatter of your own.

The look you get in return meaningfully indicates that you likely still know nothing of their language, but it doesn’t stop the old codger from offering a response, engaging in what quickly escalates into a heated diatribe of his own as his snout wrinkles to reveal one fang and he begins loudly chattering with wild gesticulations, waving blackened paws at the helmet, the symbol, the fence, seemingly the whole clearing around you and several of the assembled raccoons as he outlines in absolutely certain, if absolutely incomprehensible terms, the answer to your question.

“Hmm, think I get it,” the Major says, of all people, hovering close. “Thought that power armor looked familiar, and that’s because it’s probably a Mk II developed by the Enclave. Seems our John or Jane Doe held up here for a while, long enough to setup some base defenses and piss off the local wildlife from the sound of things. And then, they moved on.

“They might have left in a hurry, too, seeing as they failed to break camp and cover their tracks, not that I can blame ‘em. Hell, if I had three weeks and eighty cans of spam to barter with, I’d say we found our army, right here: just add Kevlar.”

> What to do…
> [] If the Enclave is here, you need to know why. Time for a manhunt.
> [] The Vault is top priority. Recovering its assets comes first.
> [] Other
>>
>>2105630
>[] If the Enclave is here, you need to know why. Time for a manhunt.
Dammit. We MIGHT have a Remnants situation here, where we could potentially get this guy to help us out.
And the Major makes a good suggestion, if we can crack the language barrier.
>>
>>2105630
>> [] If the Enclave is here, you need to know why. Time for a manhunt.
>>
>>2105630
Well shit if Enclave is poking around that means they successfully regrouped at Chicago and are operational condition once more.

> [] If the Enclave is here, you need to know why. Time for a manhunt.

>>2105644
As much as I hate to admit it that is...most unlikely. The only recent enclave remnants are those from the East and they technically should have regrouped at Chicago. Seattle is a long fucking way from Chicago much less the Capital Wasteland.
>>
>>2105831
Not like the Remnants in the Mojave, who moved there after Navarro, but like Lt. Oonoda and other Imperial Japanese soldiers that didn't accept that the war was over for decades.
Basically a commando that was given orders to fight a guerrilla campaign or defend a resource, and never got word or accepted that their side lost.
>>
>>2105881
The power armor is too up to date. It could only come from the Eastern Seaboard or Chicago where the Enclave rallied.
>>
>>2105630
>> [] If the Enclave is here, you need to know why. Time for a manhunt.
Maybe we'll get lucky with Enclave debriefing twice. If not, well, they have the coolest toys.
>>
>>2105916
It's conceivable that Autumn or Eden could have sent small teams or solo elite operatives to procure or secure assets until a larger reclamation team or effort could be mounted, and in the retreat from the East Coast, the records of this operative were lost.
>>
>>2105630
>> [] If the Enclave is here, you need to know why. Time for a manhunt.
The Vault isn't going to pick itself up and walk away like this asset is doing right now! That was probably a different vault's experiment.
>>
>>2105630
>>2105644
>>2105743
>>2105831
>>2105881
>>2105916
>>2105968
>>2106000
>>2106000
>>2106862
> [] The Vault is top priority. Recovering its assets comes first.

Anons, this is kind of a thing QM's been doing to us. The pattern is every time we focus on something we're shown an interesting distraction and then the first thing gets dropped.

Most of the time I don't mind but this time we stand to lose most of what we've managed to put together. We should really stop fucking around in the jungle and find the vault, go back to the city, and neutralize the lurker threat before everyone dies.

We don't have the time to bring an Enclave soldier to ground right now. Power armor shows up on scans well enough, we can come back and sweep the area.

There's a good chance this is a deserter, regardless of where he came from - Enclave power and loyalty isn't what it used to be by now. There's an equal chance this is a loyalist, though coming from chicago means they would have had to contend with the Midwestern BOS presence. This could also be a Midwestern BOS member, their armor is more like enclave gear than 51-Bs. We don't know.

The real problem is a trained power armor wearing soldier might have energy weapons that could go right through us. We'd need to have energy weapons to pose a credible risk to anyone in armor like that, and we don't have any.

We should not risk getting shot up by plasma at this point. We have no effective counter. A power armored enclave soldier could shrug off almost anything we could throw at him right now.

A manhunt without means to kill or capture effectively is a terrible idea.

We should come back with the help of BOS members or better gear, counter their armor with our own. Gunning for the enclave now is premature.
>>
>>2106973
Also, the Major may be able to passively monitor their communications in the area if there's any organized presence. She could tell us if there's anything to worry about.
>>
>>2106973
This. Let's get on with it. I want of Name all goddamn ready.

Bananon: Can we move the main plot forward, please? I enjoy the quest, but the distractions are getting a little excessive.
>>
>>2107088
Have you never played a Fallout game?
>>
>>2107088
I happen to enjoy the constant need to prioritize issues as they crop up with I’ll intent.
>>
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>>2105630
>>2105644
>>2105743
>>2105831
>>2105968
>>2106862
>>2106973
>>2107088

“If the Enclave is around here, we need to know why,” you say deterministically. “Still, I don’t like our chances going up against anything that might be packing plasma bolts, let alone fighting someone hiding behind two inches of steel. It’s probably smart to keep it to a recon run for now. We’ll get as close as we can and proceed from there.”

“Roger!” agree the other two machines, Arya wobbling slightly as she once more takes to the air.

“Also, Major?”

“Yeah?”

“Has anyone been on SATCOM recently trying to broadcast from this area? If we’re dealing with a lone wolf scouting for the pack, they’re bound to be trying to bounce back communications to their higher-ups.”

“SATCOM has been dark for years now. The higher-ups in question probably figured that after two of their operations went belly-up, the network had been compromised. There was some last buzz on the line about regrouping in Chicago, but that’s about it. It’d be a hell of a hike for that guy to come out on his own. So, all-in-all, I’d say it’s more likely that we’re dealing with a deserter.”

“Maybe we could recruit him!” Arya says happily.

“Or maybe he’ll try to scrap us for parts,” you counter, feeling a little bad from the way her eyebot droops in response. “Still, there’s only one way that we’re going to find out, and that’s to investigate.”

With that decided, you make a b-line back to the river, the furry denizens of the forest watching you go but not otherwise moving to impede your progress as you leave them in peace. Fortunately, the way back is quicker without a giant, mutated fish draped over both shoulders. You were going to need a nice, long oil bath when all of this was said and done. However, the tracks are still visible in the snow by the time you arrive, and that means that they’ll be taking priority.

“Tracks seem a bit light if you ask me,” Major points out, as he analyzes a footprint. “Maybe forty kilos shy, and that’s after ditching their payload.”

“Maybe they’ve been on a diet!”

“If you mean the kind where they start cutting off arms and legs, maybe,” the Major scoffs. “They’d be one skeletal son of a bitch, though.”

“Guess we’re going fishing again…”

“Knock it off, you two!”
>>
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>>2108142

The conversation is silent, held purely over your closed channels. Even so, you want them focused as you all stay low, trying to avoid being spotted or heard as you carefully step your way through the crackling underbrush. Whether they are a few pounds light or not, you can still clearly see where thick branches have been caved in by at least two hundred or more kilos of force, new wood left as little more than pulp beneath a boot that could probably kick a crater into your chest plate.

You consider using a stealth boy just to be sure, but think better of wasting valuable resources. Noise is your bigger enemy here, not visibility. So, you just keep your head down and your sound sensors dialed up, trying not to think about the possibility of being caught… or the deathly quiet that seems to have come over the woodlands over the past few hundred feet.

You’re getting close. As trails of broken branches converge onto your own from multiple outings, you’re sure of it. That alone might explain the quiet, why the animals are steering clear, but as you try to convince yourself that that’s all there is to it, your unease only seems to grow.

Maybe it’s the static you’re tamping down on from your peripherals, or maybe it’s the way the trees’ shadows dance and writhe in the pale moonlight, mists gathering about your feet and the surrounding hills as dawn draws closer. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s the way the water pooling in your own footprints now gleams blackish red, the small branches at the edge of your peripherals revealing themselves as bone ornaments hung with care in numbers beyond counting.

Trophies aren’t unnatural, you remind yourself. Neither are warning signs. Besides, you still hadn’t seen even a hint of the fire. You just needed to keep following the-

“Other me…” Arya whispers nervously. “Stop…”

You hadn’t realized that you’d stepped into the clearing. At least, it hadn’t been at the forefront of your mind. It still wasn’t, in point of fact, the clearing which held your fixation. No, you’d skipped past all of that, the torn cloth and butchered earth to the pile of bones that rests on the side opposite yours, a helm lying at its base, worn, rusted, and bloody, with an equally ruined, power-armored arm partially exhumed from the earth beside it.

> Ummm….
> [] Nope. Nope. Nope. Getting yourself some canine protection. Fuck this place.
> [] So… Free power armor?
> [] This seems like a trap
> [] Other
>>
>>2108154
>[] This seems like a trap
Full sensor sweep, infra-red.

Ugh, dammit, Fallout is a setting where there's magic in addition to superscience. I hope this isn't another Dunwhich Building.
>>
>>2108154
Oh, and what model of power armor is the helmet?
T-51b? Advanced Power Armor? APA Mk2?
>>
>>2108154
>> [] This seems like a trap
Would you say a power armor gauntlet weighs about forty pounds?
(According to the wiki it's more like fifteen... maybe if you take the rest of the arm too. Or both arms. We could be dealing with a deadly kickboxing ghoul.)
>>
>>2108154
>This seems like a trap
>>
>>2108172
Supporting
>>
>>2108154
>> [] Nope. Nope. Nope. Getting yourself some canine protection. Fuck this place.
>> [] This seems like a trap

I vote we scan the area to make sure we're not under immediate risk, mark our map, and fuck off back towards our stated goal here.

Enough goddamn distractions, this quest never goes anywhere but sideways.
>>
>>2108154
>> [] This seems like a trap
>>
>>2108154
>> [] This seems like a trap
>>
>>2108154
>>2108172
>>2108179
>>2108185
>>2108462
>>2108726
>>2109082
>>2109304
>>2109352

“I smell a trap,” you communicate silently to the others, your optics switching into the infrared as you scour the scene for details.

At first, you expect to find someone waiting outside the clearing, the most logical ambush point for anyone coming after a power-armored suit and easy enough to pull off if you happened to have a ruined arm and a spare helmet just lying around. Instead, it’s the armor itself that glows like a beacon amidst the bones, and not only in the infrared. There’s also a healthy flood of radiation pouring out all around it.

“Could be a ghoul,” you note. “Plenty of radiation, and the loss of body weight would be natural.”

“Or it could be something else…” Arya adds ominously.

“Whatever it is, it doesn’t seem likely to make the first move,” Major finishes, “and whether that’s because it hasn’t noticed us yet, it’s a decoy, or because nobody’s home, I reckon that won’t last much longer if we just keep standing here.

“I’ll go out on a limb and say I recognize that suit, at least. It’s a suit of tessellated Mk II advanced power armor, damn near top of the line Enclave technology. Looks like someone beat the hell out of it and dragged it through the mud once or twice, of course, but it’d be a hell of an asset to drag back with us if we could swing it. Either that, or it’d be one hell of a fight if someone competent and that well-armed got the drop on us.

“Any way you slice it, we gotta make a call and stick to it.”

> What to do…
> [] Leave the power armor for now. It’s not worth the risk.
> [] You can’t pass this opportunity up. You just have to be cautious in your approach.
> [] Other
>>
>>2110078
> [X] Leave the power armor for now. It’s not worth the risk.
Dogs>Shitty tin can iradieted to hell
>>
>>2110078
>> [] Leave the power armor for now. It’s not worth the risk
Irradiated power armor sort of defeats the purpose.
>>
>>2110078
> [] You can’t pass this opportunity up. You just have to be cautious in your approach
Lucius has his decontamination tech that could fix and decon the suit.
>>
>>2110347
Tech nobody else has, which means this opportunity will remain until we come back with a production model of Lucius' decon tech. Unless this power armor happens to be capable of picking itself up and walking away...
>>
>>2110559
>Unless this power armor happens to be capable of picking itself up and walking away...
It walked all this way here, since we were following the armor’s footprints. And SOMEBODY is wearing the armor and killing raccoons that can use rifles, using their bones to create wind chimes hanging off of the trees here.
>>
>>2110078
> [] Leave the power armor for now. It’s not worth the risk.
Maybe leave some sort of note for the old user to find, in case they're still sane enough to understand it.
>>
>>2110078
>>2110082
>>2110085
>>2110347
>>2110978

Seems the vote is pretty much resolved, but I'm sorry to say that I've been dying from a lack of sleep this week. Between errands, work, and trying to keep up with this, I just haven't had time. That said, I'll take a break for tonight and update as soon as I can.
>>
>>2111241
Oki doki best QM.
>>
>>2111241
Ok, Bananon. Hope you fee better and get you a good rest.
>>
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>>2110078
>>2110082
>>2110085
>>2110347
>>2110978

“I said this would be a recon run,” you confirm, “and I plan to keep it at that. Even assuming this isn’t a trap, the damaged shielding on the power core coupling or whatever is producing all of that radiation would take time to repair that we don’t have, rendering it operationally useless.”

“Fair assessment,” Major agrees. “Now, let’s get out of here before whatever powers that be around here get up and running again.”

With little fanfare, you decide to let sleeping artifacts lie and proceed without incident as you make your way back through the trees in the direction of the vault. Naturally, just in case things hadn’t gone so smoothly, you’d collectively remained on high alert with sensors trained for any signs of pursuit, but there was just… nothing, only the dim silence and clatter of bones in the breeze to accompany your journey as the light of dawn begins peeking over the hillside.

It's strangely comforting, the warm glow on the outside of your chassis and the receding mist helping things seem a bit more normal, the atmosphere less oppressive. You clear your cache and the cobwebs from your brain as you re-center yourself on the task at hand, ignoring the raccoon camp and any subsequent distractions as you pick your way toward the mountainside where Vault 59 was reportedly mined out.

Granted, that strategy doesn’t always end in taking the direct route. Whether it’s taking a half-mile strafe to avoid a colony of dog-sized ants or showing a few, possibly sapient plants the fear and awe that is your burning spear, it’s well into the morning before the mountain’s shadow has overtaken you. However, at least from that point, the road is clear.

It also quite literally exists, which comes as a surprise, broken remnants of asphalt and cement still flattening the foliage as it sprawls its way toward your destination. They had to get their supplies out here somehow, you suppose, but you could almost still use these today with a steady hand on the wheel and a liberal lack of concern for the long-term welfare of your shocks.

The Major, however, notices something else.

“Paw-prints,” she says simply, pointing to a puddle, and sure enough, there’s something in the bottom: a paw-print and not one belonging to any dog.

“Yao guai,” you state with flat contempt.

“Yao-what’s now?” Major demands. “That some sort of commie bear?”

“Mutated and very dangerous…”

“Whelp…” the Major sighs, flying off ahead of the group.

You let her do as she pleases, waiting patiently until she returns.

“Yeah, pretty sure there’s more than one in there. Three or four adults, cubs too.”

> Shit…
> [] Spring cleaning? With thermite and violence?
> [] You do -not- have the firepower to deal with this. Time for stealth.
> [] Maybe you can lead them away somehow…
> [] Other
>>
>>2115527
>[] Maybe you can lead them away somehow…
>>
>>2115884
Like, more catfish bait?
>>
>>2115527
>> [X] You do -not- have the firepower to deal with this. Time for stealth.
We are sneaky robots. We can do this.
>>
>>2115527
>> [] Maybe you can lead them away somehow…
>>
>>2115527
>> [] Spring cleaning? With thermite and violence?
Yao-guai are quite moody for bears. Plus we don't want any trouble with our dogs once they get let out.
>>
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>>2115527
>>2115884
>>2115942
>>2117579
>>2117621

“Fighting anything in its own den seems like a mistake,” you think to yourself, broadcasting to the others as you pace. “We can’t just blast our way in there. With what I’ve heard about yao guai, our present firepower would make it hard to even phase them, and trying to stealth our way in is a short-term solution when presumably we’re going to have to bring the dogs right back through the area.”

“What now, then?” Arya asks.

“We need to find a way to lure them somewhere else,” you conclude, “and keep them away until we finish our business here. Food might be a good start, but what then?”

“Food’s gonna be time intensive to gather,” the Major points out. “Might just be easier to hit ‘em on the snout and book it, relying on our aerial advantage to keep ‘em distracted while somebody else handles the details inside.”

“So, using a stick instead of a carrot,” you surmise. “It’s not the worst idea.”

“But it also might make them more aggressive,” Arya points out. “We might be able to accomplish the same thing with two of us running around with bait.”

So, it’ll be fishing one way or the other, but what do you want to use for bait?

> What to do…
> [] Let the Major take point, giving the bears a motivational kick to get them chasing her.
> [] Go with Arya’s plan. You don’t want these things on high alert.
> [] Other. Think of something else.
>>
>>2120577
>[] Go with Arya’s plan. You don’t want these things on high alert.
>>
>>2120577
>> [] Go with Arya’s plan. You don’t want these things on high alert.
Maybe you'll smoke out more hidden animal habitats here and accelerate the process of natural selection.
>>
>>2120577
>> [X] Let the Major take point, giving the bears a motivational kick to get them chasing her.
>>
>>2120577
[x] Other. Think of something else.

Bananon, you're an incorrigible tease. We've spent thread after thread focusing on other shit while you practically beg us to go to this goddamn vault and then we finally head towards it and there's raccoons and bears and power armor and shiny objects and we somehow can't go to the fucking Vault without burning time and having a random encounter out of nowhere every two seconds.

We could use everyone inside the Vault. We should just use recordings of bear sounds to lure them out of the way later on our way back. We also might find something more useful to use against the Yao Guai in the Vault.

We should just go. If they're literally in our way and we can't use our jetpack and hover abilities to evade, we should try to run them into a terrain bottleneck and block the entrance, or get them to chase us up a tree. Or we should play wolverine sounds. Bears can't handle wolverines. Here, have a video of what happens in nature when bears encounter wolverines: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QJ4tyowlVUM

Holy shit I think this quest has blueballs now.
>>
>>2120797
Probably trying to slow it a bit down as he can only do one update a day. If we get into some hectic stuff it's gonna be horrible to wait a day for a update.
>>
>>2120797
The only one with blue balls here is you, friend. At no point was he begging us to go to this vault, in fact it was pointed out how the trip would be a significant undertaking and wouldn't be a simple side trip - and since it's a main quest, it's got little side quests hanging off of it.
I'm still unconvinced that a couple of disease-ridden bears are beyond our firepower right now. If I can plink a Super Mutant Behemoth to death with a pipe rifle, SARA should be able to do pest control with half a dozen laser pistols.
>>
>>2120829
>At no point was he begging us to go to this vault
Anon, there's really only one expected outcome when a QM starts repeatedly dangling a possibility of >cute doggo in front of a fanbase with such regularity. Calm down.

>If I can plink a Super Mutant Behemoth to death with a pipe rifle
Judging your firepower by some shit facilitated by game logic in a quest is a poor idea.
>>
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>>2120616
>>2120657
>>2120680
>>2120797

Sorry, guys. Short on time, and I'm giving blood tomorrow. So, I need all the sleep I can get to avoid being lightheaded. That said, I'm just going to ask for a d100 roll to see how well your plan's execution goes. Please feel free to add details for extra credit, but it seems the majority is going with trying to bait the bears out with mobile food.

> tl;dr Give me 1d100

As for the yao guai, they're pretty dangerous creatures in the Fallout universe, and especially in Seattle, meaning the already fierce specimens seen in previous games may be dwarfed by some of the heartier descendants of grizzlies and kodiaks.

That isn't to say you couldn't fight them with the right plan and the right rolls, of course. Anything is possible, but it would be risky.
>>
Rolled 58 (1d100)

>>2122902
>>
Rolled 66 (1d100)

>>2122902
I got the flu so I couldn't give blood when I was supposed to last week. Good to see other people doing it.
>>
Rolled 38 (1d100)

>>2122902
Oh, right, the Yao Guai here aren’t descended from the black bears of the Capitol Wasteland or the Commonwealth.
They’re descended from Grizzlies, Kodiaks, and other brown bears. Potentially also polar bears and Polar-Grizzly hybrids.

We can catch more fish, cut them up to make a trail leading away from the cave to somewhere else.

Also, to keep them from coming back, how about we first prepare a big bunch of wood, moss, and kindling. When the bears are led away from the cave, we’ll bring the wood in and use our little lasers to start a fire inside the cave, as far back as we can. Hopefully the smoke and fire will make the Yao Guai unwilling to come back to the cave and abandon it.
>>
Rolled 33 (1d100)

>>2122902
Bet they still can't jump higher than we fly.
>>
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>>2122902
>>2122914
>>2122971
>>2123724
>>2123751

> 66 + 10

“From the size of these pawprints, I’m not that worried,” you state, trying to do the math pound-for-pound and coming out somewhere south of a normal grizzly.

At least that puts your worst fears at bay.

“Still, better we have them on the trail of something to eat than aggravated and looking for a fight. We can fly, but the dogs won’t be able to. Anyway, it’s going to take a lot of fish, to make this idea work. So, let’s get to it.”

It’s a bitterly cold day in the Seattle winter, one that makes you glad you lack skin for frostbite or nerves to damage as the wind picks up and you return to the rivers. As before, it’s not as though the fish are jumping out to greet you, especially not the bigger ones. Instead, the process is slow and meticulous, a trio of keen robotic eyes picking and choosing their targets before mercilessly executing them.

For all that, however, there just aren’t that many fish of the size you need. Though Arya insists that quantity can make up for quality, even going so far as to stay by the river with a makeshift fly and hook attached to her frame, it’s about the time that you have to disengage one power cell, letting it fall with a hiss to the earth before slamming a new one in, that you decide hunting may be worth a shot.

After all, you were no outdoorsmen, but you knew enough to know that bears were omnivorous and certainly not pescatarian. So, you leave Arya to the task, trusting she won’t somehow get eaten by a giant fish in the time it takes you to peg a molerat or a radstag.
>>
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>>2124663


“Where there is water, there is life.”

Even in times like these, those old proverbs hold true, and it only takes a little more travel along the river to begin spying signs of things with hooves or the tell-tale tiny claws of a molerat. Not in the mood for heavier prey, you follow the latter into the woods, sights set to kill as you watch the heat signature grow in the footprints.

In the end, it didn’t even see it coming, putting up no struggle as you burn a hole through its spinal column and gently lay it down to its final rest. Of course, gentle is subjective, but you don’t have time to think too much about that as you figure you’ve finally got enough meat to bait your hook with and lure the bears, throwing the dead and bloodied thing over your shoulders as you attempt to fireman lift it from the ground.

A sound echoes through your ears as you do so, a noise that might have vanished completely in the crunch of snow beneath your boots were you not taking special pains to process your surroundings. It was the sound of a snapping branch, a couple as a matter of fact, and the blurring form of another large rodent almost has you ready to launch a spike before something very peculiar catches your eye. It has to do with the creature’s back and how if your eyes aren’t playing tricks on you, there is another creature riding atop it, a crude bridle in its hands and a spear on its back as it likely attempts to put as much distance between you and it as possible before it’s noticed.

> [1/2]
>>
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>>2124679

That's all I've got for tonight, folks, and unless there is a huge push to go elsewhere, I'll assume you are sticking to the plan and trying to smoke out the bears when I pick up. Feel free to keep strategizing in the meantime.
>>
>>2124690
Is it possible that we will see 2 bears high fiveing?
>>
>>2124679
Is it a miniature bear? Kill it, before the main bear force is alerted!
>>
>>2124690

Thanks for writing! I think you missed a post, Bananon.
>>
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>>2124679

You debate opening fire, but decide against it as you sort out a pair of grey-furred ears and a striped tail in the fleeing mass. Seems there are more raccoons around here than you thought, and the implication that some of them have taken to animal husbandry…

Unfortunately, those are thoughts that you are going to have to shelve for later. You have business to take care of, and gathering meat was only half of it. Next up comes the lumber, and as you toss the fatty, misshapen rodent next to the pile of good sized fish and veritable mound of appetizers Arya has caught, you realize that the eyebots are going to be virtually no help in this.

That means all the more fun for you as you smash down tree after small tree, lashing the resulting logs together with vines, brambles, and whatever other, more readily flammable tender you can find. It’s not what you would call a short process, especially given the lack of proper tools, but fortunately, you need neither sleep nor rest as you whittle away the sum total of your daylight hours preparing your makeshift smoke bombs. In the end, you have five good bundles ready to roll and precious few daylight hours left. Now all you have to do is-

“Other me…”

“What now?” you complain, only to look up for your work and see tiny eyes gleaming in the dark.

Attracted by the noise or by the smell of ripening fish, you don’t know, but there’s a gleam of hunger in their beady eyes and the way they rub their tiny paws together, a group of raccoons decidedly less armed than the previous you’d run across but also capable of moving quietly enough to evade your passive sensors until they were little more than a stone’s throw away.

> What to do…
> [] Go away. Shoo. Bad raccoons!
> [] Try to explain the situation to them somehow.
> [] Other
>>
>>2127217
>[] Try to explain the situation to them somehow.
I also have the pragmatic idea that the smell of them around will also draw out the Yao Guai.
>>
>>2127217
> [] Try to explain the situation to them somehow.
They'll do as a distraction. Uh, don't tell them that, just tell them we're going on a bear hunt.
>>
>>2127217
> [] Try to explain the situation to them somehow.
>>
>>2127217
>> [X] Try to explain the situation to them somehow.
>>
>>2127217
>> [] Try to explain the situation to them somehow.
Pantomime a Yao Guai to them
>>
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>>2127217
>>2127287
>>2127297
>>2127309
>>2128386
>>2129013

Well, they aren’t hostile, yet… and if these raccoons are anything like the others, they’re probably intelligent enough to have something approaching a conversation. With that in mind, you try to move your body slowly but firmly between the most part of them and the pile of food, spreading your arms out wide and defensively positioning yourself between them and the subject of their inquiry.

“Chatter chatter, chatter-chatter-chatter.”

The animals, most likely not knowing what to make of three robots and a pile of dead fish, begin talking amongst themselves, making questioning, then frustrated, and then finally exasperated gestures toward one another before a slightly chubbier specimen abruptly shoves his companion forward into the clearing to parlay.

The raccoon seems to slouch for a second, clearly unhappy about his newly designated role as speaker before turning to you and chattering meaningfully about the pile of fish and flesh, miming eating with his hands and then pointing at the lot of you, growling and muttering lightly before gesturing to his own folk, then his stomach.

“I can’t just give you our food,” you tell him or her, either way, seemingly to the furry critter’s surprise. “Look, I know you don’t understand me, but this fish is for big-”

You pantomime the lumbering steps of a bear as best you can.

“Bears. From that direction.”

You point back in the direction you were just about to head, leading the raccoon to scratch his head for a long moment before another raccoon comes to the fore, apparently impatient. That quickly develops into an argument between the two, leading to a finger pointed in an off direction, a slap, and then the new raccoon pointing back the same way you did before beginning to scribble in the dirt.

Sure enough, it seems she(?) gets it, as she draws something that could pass for a bear or a very sad dog in the snow, chittering in possible consternation as she points to the pile of food and the drawing of the bear. The other seems only increasingly confused about this, vocalizing questioningly at the other before getting a testy response, one that’s apparently directed toward you.

“I think she means, ‘Why are we feeding the bears?’” Arya guesses helpfully.

“Because…” You take up your own stick and draw something resembling the cave around the bear. “We want the bears to leave.”

You draw an arrow from the bear toward the food pile, then point to the three of you and the cave. This leaves two confused raccoons, prompting a third to come forth from the tree line and begin the round-table discussion again. However, it seems this time there are no epiphanies forthcoming as inquiring eyes turn toward you.
>>
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>>2129798

“We need to get inside to find something,” you continue. “It’s like a big door made of metal.”

The shape of the cave grows as you add a hump to it and grab a spare part from your bag, placing a heavy cog right in the middle to symbolize the vault. The third raccoon, a taller and slightly pudgier specimen, actually seems to experience some sort of recognition with that, and chitters excitedly to the others as he apparently solves the puzzle.

In a series of enthusiastic gesticulations, he seems to propose his theory to the others, getting inscrutable expressions in return, before what you’re pretty sure is the female turns toward you. She gestures toward the food meaningfully with one gnarled finger and a short murmur. She then gestures toward you, her associates, and the cog on the ground.

It seems they want to trade?

> What to do…
> [] So, fish for safe passage into the Vault? What could go wrong?
> [] Precise plans require precise communications. You’d rather go it alone.
> [] Other
>>
>>2129808
>> [] So, fish for safe passage into the Vault? What could go wrong?
If things go belly-up, these hooligans will never bother you again (because they'll be dead). If it actually works, you won't have to face your insecurities about not being stronger than a disease-ridden wild animal. It's a win-win situation!
You know, maybe whatever they were working on in that Vault, doesn't just work on dogs. Maybe we'll end up returning with an alliance of trash pandas instead of a pack of cyberdogs.
>>
>>2130093
Support!
>>
>>2129808
>[] So, fish for safe passage into the Vault? What could go wrong?
>>
>>2129808
> [] So, fish for safe passage into the Vault? What could go wrong?
>>
We really do have to start coming up with a translation codex with these raccoons. Maybe finding another SARA node that can be tasked with it.
Or force-feeding ground Mentats to a raccoon.
Or finding original strain FEV and giving one a bath in it.

This is Fallout, either option has a chance to succeed.
>>
>>2130552
To be fair we could just develop a basic runic / pictograph language and teach one of them that before using them as our translator or something.
>>
>>2129808
>> [] So, fish for safe passage into the Vault? What could go wrong?
>Ask them if they've explored inside of the Vault before. If they have, ask them if they'd help you guys out in exchange for a few bags of dog food.
>>
>>2129808
>>2130093
>>2130228
>>2130249
>>2130271
>>2130552
>>2130615
>>2131290

“Err… I guess it’s a deal, then?” you ask warily, extending a hand and…

Well, what did you expect? The dumbfounded critter just sniffs at your outstretched fingers, seeming not to know what to make of the gesture. You sigh before trying again, this time grabbing a fish from the pile and offering the slimy, dead eyed trout as a sign of ascent, getting an excited chorus of chatters in return from the assembled collective.

It seems, for better or worse, you have a small army at your command now, one of questionable motive, intelligence, and sanity. However, with the clock running down on the Metro, every hand, no matter how spindly and horrifying, is one you need on your side, tipping the odds in your favor.

Now, it’s finally time to pay Vault 59 a long overdue visit.
>>
>>2133064

Alright, folks. That's where we'll call this thread for now. Apologies as always for sporadic delays, but I hope you all are having fun.

It's a little late for comments and questions even, but please let me know if you have a preference with picking up next time with the Vault team or the SARA unit back in Seattle, helping the Metro.
>>
>>2133073
After not making into the Vault this thread? We'll stick with this team.




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