Thursday, August 27, 2015

Tales of Vault 867 - Part Eight

Just freaking spiffy. Captain Terry finally goes missing in the Wasteland, and rather than let him die two of my best people get up an unauthorized rescue mission.


What's going to happen if we get hit by Raiders, ladies? Because we're totally getting hit with Raiders right now.



To beef up security and prepare for Terry's inevitable assault, I've ordered a secondary Vault built at the bottom of the elevator shaft. Might as well get some use out of the damn thing before it breaches R'leyh.

Hilltop Hattie was out in the Wasteland with Terry and warned me about his seditious talk, so I've assigned her to head up the new Vault. I'm a bit light on people I can trust, so I initially assigned her to cover it solo.


Which would have been fine, except somebody let this asshole in.


(What the hell kind of camera glitch is that?)

This greaser immediately cozied up to Hattie and convinced her to let him open a bar in the new Vault. A bar. We don't even have alcohol beyond what the Gasmonger brews up from the radioactive sump in Corridor G!


Scumbag Owens immediately began chatting up some of the Vault Kids I'd detailed to help out Hattie.


With predictable results. Once again I'm forced to bemoan Vault-Tec's inability to provide prophylactics to our merry Dwellers.


Unfortunately Owens didn't stop there...


(At least one of the Vault Kids understands how STDs work.)

And then he kept going. Where did he find lingerie?
 



I'm going to have to seriously investigate whether Owens slipped some mind-control substances into the water supply. Or, maybe it's the jacket.

Nothing much else to report except for the usual outbreaks of vermin and random fires.






I'm... I'm pretty sure someone already said that.

Wednesday, August 26, 2015

Tales of Vault 867 - Part Seven

The Overseer's paranoia aside, Vault 867 appeared to be a stable, if not thriving enterprise at this point in the logs. Regarding the surface conditions that concerned him, we were able to locate a travel journal maintained, apparently, by Captain Terry Davidson, the target of much of the Overseer's ire. We hope excerpts from this journal may shed some light on the reality of his time in the Wasteland.















Tuesday, August 25, 2015

Tales of Vault 867 - Part Six

Well, I was right about the half-rations, but I assumed it would be food and not water. Silly me! Some idiot threw a mole rat corpse into the water supply and now everyone is running around with mild radation poisoning. We are out of Rad-Aways and I've ordered everyone deemed non-essential to get busy with the filters and recycling systems.


Naturally then we got hit with the Raider attack I was expecting. Captain Terry was conveniently eight hours away from the Vault, but our Dwellers are armed to the teeth and cut the invaders down with little trouble.



New arrivals have been streaming in with disturbing regularity, and I've directed them to be trained for menial cafeteria labor rather than anything sensitive. I've also descended the main elevator shaft and constructed a secure backup power generator in the depths. There's nothing down there except roaches and mole rats, and I'm much more concerned about whatever is gunning for us on the surface.

Speaking of which, Captain Terry took a gang of our best workers up to the surface for an extended tour. I've marked all of them down for stricter surveillance and half rations when they return.


Oh wait Terry you bastard you left the door open!


Monday, August 24, 2015

August 21st - 23rd, 2015

Plague, horrors, sleepless nights and no crabs. I have had much worse weekends and I have had much more stressful weekends, but everything aches and I'm plotting vengeance against the dog for asking for a glass of water with 2 a.m. barks.

The tiny male human has been banished to his grandparents' house for a week of vacation, and we are strongly feeling the vacuum of his absence. It's something like how a deep-sea fish will dissipate into mist if it suddenly finds itself teleported to the surface. My wife and I know intellectually we have a golden opportunity to get our house in order, but all we can do is sit and marvel at how quiet everything is.

Today I Wrote:

HA HA HA HA HA. I can't even say I worked on my Fallout Shelter log because everything's so damn stable. Part five is up but was already written.

Today I Read:

Finished reading The Divide, and it's very difficult to read this and take any candidate other than Bernie Sanders seriously next year. Now I'm back into Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell, which continues to read slowly but amusingly.

Tales of Vault 867 - Part Five

Today I began handing out work assignments to the latest crop of Vault Kids, a fun and exciting occasion which was only marred by a spontaneous fire in the Athletic Room and a molerat invasion.

A fire. In. The Athletic Room. I shit you not. Luckily it was pretty easy to put out considering that there was no source of heat that would have actually caused it.

The molerats were a bigger problem. I guess one of the Vault Kids found a baby molerat down in the depths and brought it up to the main cafeteria for food. How anyone can find the hairless, radioactive shit-rats cute is beyond me.


Naturally the parents responded by invading the cafeteria en masse, and nearly eating the unarmed Vault Kids before they could figure out which end of the gun was "point towards enemy".


The adults sorted it out eventually and everyone ended up getting a cocktail of shots from Doctor Adreno and a stern lecture about the dangers of violent, ill-tempered pets.

While all this was going on Our Hero Captain Terry went on yet another extended sabbatical into the Wasteland, leaving us dangerously low on medical supplies. I should pay someone to slip a bit of thermite into that Fat Boy he's always hauling around, or swap his Rad-Away with tap water. effing Terry thinks he's so special 

Anyway... that Vault Kid who set up the Athletic Room actually managed to become an effective cafeteria manager, I assume through the power of bicep flexes. Despite our new training program we are very close to a half-rations situation and I may need to banish a few of the Kids out into the Wasteland to sink or swim. Most likely sink.