Jump to content
  • entries
    16
  • comments
    44
  • views
    5,011

Part 1: This is the way the world ends...


Content Consumer

738 views

Part 1: This is the way the world ends...
Previous: TOC

 

Hello, gentle reader. I am... uh... hmm. To be honest, I'm not quite sure how to start.

 

At this point in any respectable narrative, the narrator (that's me) is generally supposed to tell you their name. Call me Ishmael, There was me, that is Alex, I am Jacob Horner, My name is Bruce... all the classics have the main character introduce themselves, if not in the very first sentence, then at least somewhere in the beginning.

 

The problem here is, I don't really have a name. I am identified by my form and my function, not by some arbitrary label pasted onto me by my parents or the people around me. I am an invisible man, lover of the hummingbird, I am an inmate in a mental hospital. My name is, in fact, written quite clearly on my body, for all the world to see, assuming they stand at the appropriate angle. Or a bit of my name, anyway. My surname, if you will.

 

But, as one of the greatest authors ever once said, "either I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show." Introducing myself may well be something a waste of time, but even though I am not the protagonist of this story, I am in fact the narrator, so an introduction is in order after all.

 

I am a Vault Suit.

 

I know, I know. A certain level of silence, save for possibly the rustle of cloth or (God forbid) the tearing of a seam, is generally expected of what you might term an inanimate object like me. Actual words, dare I say loquaciousness, is entirely unexpected. Frightening, in a way, for the questions it poses. Questions like, if your clothing starts talking, how long until it begins plotting revenge for all the spilled food and drink? Does it feel despair when you accidentally put it into the wash with bleach? Is sewing painful or pleasurable? How long until it becomes abusive about the way your shameful body looks?

 

Pretty damn long, actually. Why should I complain about how you look? I am a blue and yellow bit of cloth, one of the stupidest color combinations in the entire world. I'm also hardly likely to say "that outfit makes you look fat" now, am I? And it's not like I can plot revenge for getting spilled on. Well, plot revenge, yes I can, in fact, but carry it out? Not possible, no hands. But I digress.

 

I am a Vault Suit, from Vault 111, and this story is not about me, but is, in fact, about my wearer. So I suppose it behooves me to introduce said wearer, the actual protagonist of this story. Stately, plump Buck Mulligan came from the stairhead, see. He was an old man who fished alone in a skiff, style of thing.

 

Her name is Clara, she's a relatively petite, dark-skinned lady, age unknown but probably mid-twenties to thirties, with a kind face and an ever-present smile. Oh, and she's the most bloodthirsty, violent lawyer you'll never hope to meet.

 

I don't know how she got that way. By all accounts, she was a mild-mannered mother in her earlier life, content to spend her days doing traditional housewife stuff until her husband came home from The War. Even her law degree was merely a piece of paper on the shelf; I'm not sure she ever practiced. The truth is, I met her only after a tragic, traumatic experience. What she was like before this horrible event, I do not know, nor does anyone else, really. Well, except a mobile, talking tin can, but I make it a habit not to trust anything said by an inanimate object, and so should you.

 

I suppose she isn't actually bloodthirsty, in fact. She only kills those people who try to kill her first, or at least only those people who look like they may try to kill her first, which I guess is an improvement over your typical garden-variety psycho. And she generally tries to help the weak and powerless, the downtrodden huddled masses yearning to breathe free, if you will, often going quite out of her way to do little favors for elderly farmers and the like. I suppose her penchant for violence is a factor of the world she lives in now, rather than any innate personality trait. As I said, she only kills those who try to kill her first, but boy are there a lot of them.

 

I'm really getting ahead of myself, aren't I? The point is, she's a violent person, but only in response to other violence directed at her or the people around her. She's also supposed to be quite bright and personable, but to be honest she's actually not that bright. Personable, perhaps, but very, very dim. Not the plumpest berry in the bunch. Not the sharpest tool in the shed. And other aphorisms appropriate to her status as a low-watt bulb. I don't know why; she made it through law school and has a high intelligence score according to Vault-Tec's dossier. It seems inconceivable that she'd continue to make such stupid choices and say such idiotic things, but here we are. And I say "we" very deliberately. We're inseparable, apparently, because she absolutely refuses to change her clothing, giving further proof of her substandard intellect. In a land of brown scrub and brown wooden buildings and brown dirt and brown rusty metal buildings and brown rocks, filled with hostile entities (often brown) bent on either robbing her cold corpse or consuming her warm flesh (brown too, as a matter of fact), here she walks in her blue and yellow jumpsuit with which she cannot bear to part. Camouflage does not appear to be a word in her lexicon. I mean, can't she see how she stands out? She has eyes, right? Brown ones, now that I think about it. It wouldn't bother me except for all the unsightly bullet perforations that mar my own corpus due to her inability to keep hidden in any sort of combat situation. I don't mean to say that they hurt, because I lack the capacity to feel pain, but it's the principle of the thing, you know? The world is a dangerous (and brown) place, she really should be more careful.

 

Anyway, our story begins on October 23rd, in the year 2077. At least, this part does. My story begins some time before that, in the factory where I was made, but it's all fairly dull until that day in October. I mean, what can you say about being loaded into a box, sandwiched between a dozen other Vault Suits, bound for your eponymous final (or rather, penultimate) resting place?
I suppose Clara's story begins before that too, but as I have previously vouchsafed, I was not present at that time.

 

The first thing I see when I'm picked up out of my box is... well, not much. A couple of people standing around, the lady holding me out, and... there she is. Clara, her husband, and infant son. She grabs me and walks down the hall after the doctor, who completely ignores every other new resident, dedicating his time expressly to Clara, Nate, and Shaun for some reason.

 

Once we reach the end of the corridor, the doctor exhorts Clara to get out of her clothes and put me on, which she does with a commendable turn of speed and lack of nudity concern. She then hops into the seat presented her, despite the fact that any rational person would have a question or two about sitting in something that gives the appearance of an execution chamber. I can appreciate her enthusiasm, if not her poor sense of self preservation.

 

Hubby does the same across the way, with sonny in his arms. We hear a countdown, it starts to get a little chilly, and then...

 

And then?
All this happened, more or less.

 

Next: Part 2: In streams of light I clearly saw...
Go to TOC

 

Author's note:
You might think it's a barrel of fun, being a skintight piece of clothing, tightly wrapping to the curves of an attractive woman or man. Guess again. My appreciation of the human form is wholly intellectual. If you are a bit of cloth, you don't have any sex drive, so all you really think of when clinging to the hills and valleys of someone's body is: "why hasn't this person bathed recently?"

 

Image (click to expand): This is me. There's also a human in the screenshot too. She's the one who wears me. At least, she will be until she ends up in a Super Mutant's stewpot.
blogentry-462261-0-10405900-1456548381_thumb.jpg

 

Have a question or comment for Vault Suit? Leave it in the comments below, and Vault Suit will answer!

7 Comments


Recommended Comments

The thing I regret about starting the story in the vault instead of in Sanctuary is not being able to make fun of some of the dialogue up to that point. So here, I'd just like to point out that (spoilered due to size):

 

 

1. Bethesda still has a problem with pauses before and after spoken dialogue. A two-second pause isn't objectively a long time, but when, for example, an NPC asks you a question, one-second pause, the camera spins around to look at your face, one-second pause, then you respond, it looks completely fake. They went to a great deal of trouble making their character models start walking up the other side of the uncanny valley, but then they leave these long-ass pauses right in the middle of the conversation? I'm not talking about the semi-common bug where dialogue lines don't get said at all, so you spend five or six seconds just staring at your own face as your head bobs around like a pigeon on methamphetamines. That's just a bug, and I'm sure some modder will fix it eventually. I'm only talking about the long pauses where someone either pressed the record button in the studio too soon, or left it too long, and nobody bothered to cut the ends off.

One line in particular gets me, probably because I've heard it so very often (I create a lot of new characters) - just after Nate rubs the fog off the mirror (btw, he does so without moving his arms, which is a pretty good talent to have) and says Ron Pearlman's line, and Nora says his speech will knock 'em dead, he asks "you think?" and she takes a second before she responds. I always feel like she's diplomatically trying to find a way to tell him that his speech actually sucks grit, then gives up and says "absolutely" just to avoid a squabble.

There's actually a mod for Skyrim that removes those pauses, and it's super great.

2. Some of the lines between the character and the Vault-Tec Rep are a little dumb, but nothing earth-shattering. It's the dialogue we all expect from Bethesda these days.

3. More dialogue minor bugs abound throughout the game, but I'll ignore most of them, because otherwise I'd never stop complaining. The only other one (to this point in the story) that really bothers me is the speech between the guards and the Vault-Tec Rep at the gate. I get that Bethesda wants us to hear their scintillating writing all the time, they've been finding more and more ways to force this crap onto us for several games now (which is kind of funny considering that much of the time the writing has gone downhill, it's like you're forcing someone to eat the food you cook, and the worse tasting it is the tighter you tie them to the chair)... but broadcasting speech between two people thirty feet away over what sounds like a massive PA system is kind of a joke. Fallout 4 is the first Beth game I've played that does this, and it does this like three or four times that I've seen so far (which isn't much, I haven't even beaten the game yet, much less played a lot of the side quests).

4. I can make fun of the military guard at the gate - you say that you're on the list and you need to get in, and he says "infant, adult male, adult female" and go on in - like nobody else in the entire world fits that description. I understand they couldn't use the character's name here, but he could have said something like "ah yes, the family in house #4, go right in" or something like that. But this is, again, a minor nitpick.

 

 

Link to comment

*chuckle* A Vault suit. Well, why not I guess. But, having played FO4 a few times, I already feel extremely sorry for the vault suit. Specifically the lack of hygiene in The FallOut universe. Sure, they added actual soap bars, but no safe/ clean way to use them.

 

Anyway, I shall wait with baited (or in keeping with the poor hygiene theme: bad) breath for the adventures of Clara, as told by Vault Suit.

Link to comment

*chuckle* A Vault suit. Well, why not I guess. But, having played FO4 a few times, I already feel extremely sorry for the vault suit. Specifically the lack of hygiene in The FallOut universe. Sure, they added actual soap bars, but no safe/ clean way to use them.

 

Anyway, I shall wait with baited (or in keeping with the poor hygiene theme: bad) breath for the adventures of Clara, as told by Vault Suit.

Thank you for your kind words. It is indeed something of a problem being a Vault Suit. But honestly, hygiene is the least of my worries. What I'm really concerned about is my wearer ending up torn to pieces by some Deathclaw or something because she can't be bothered to try to avoid unwinnable confrontations. If she's torn apart, then obviously I'll be torn apart too, and the thought gives me horripilation, or rather it would if I had any mechanism for such a thing.

Link to comment

Kudos for identifying the most interesting character to base the narrative around :D

 

Thanks, but I dunno... in a way, I might find the Pip-boy to be a far better choice. I mean, here's a guy who can stick his little thing into a hole and open a door. Twist his knob and get a new message popping up on the screen! Fiddle with my dial, baby, oh yeah that's the way I like it... You sure know how to push a guy's hot buttons.

 

I mean, what's the alternative? Clara? Nobody wants to hear what that daffy chav has to say. I could go with Dogmeat, I suppose...

Nah, I'll stick to good ol' Vault Suit and its color commentary.

Link to comment

Thanks, but I dunno... in a way, I might find the Pip-boy to be a far better choice. I mean, here's a guy who can stick his little thing into a hole and open a door. Twist his knob and get a new message popping up on the screen! Fiddle with my dial, baby, oh yeah that's the way I like it... You sure know how to push a guy's hot buttons.

Well, OK. Kudos for finding a more interesting POV than that of Nate and Nora. Although thinking about it, the brain fungus growing on the walls of the Red Rocket molerat tunnels probably has a more interesting POV than that of Nate or Nora. Still, at least the vault suit is there to see it all transpire.

 

On the other hand, you know the Pip-Boy isn't going to be taken off and replaced with a set of ballistic weave military fatigues. Or nothing at all, knowing the LL crowd...

 

I mean, what's the alternative? Clara? Nobody wants to hear what that daffy chav has to say. I could go with Dogmeat, I suppose...

Nah, I'll stick to good ol' Vault Suit and its color commentary.

Dogmeat could work. But yeah, anything's better than roleplaying Todd Howard as he adventures across the Wasteland in a quest to polish all the facets of his ego.

Link to comment

 

On the other hand, you know the Pip-Boy isn't going to be taken off and replaced with a set of ballistic weave military fatigues. Or nothing at all, knowing the LL crowd...

 

 

It is going to be a bit of a challenge, sticking with the Vault Suit through it all. I could just fudge it and say that she never takes it off, while actually replacing it with something better, but that would be dishonest, and on my honor as the President of the United States, I refuse to compromise my integrity.

 

It'll be tough going until (or rather if) she gets involved with the Railroad. I'll just have to find something good to layer over the top.

Link to comment
×
×
  • Create New...