Well, whatever chemicals Scumbag slipped into the water supply appear to have afflicted the whole Vault, as the baby boom continues apace. At this point I'm seriously considering training them up to go out and forage for cans of Nuka Cola.
Groovy Gary and Dessicator Jones spent a solid ten hours chatting each other up. It... didn't go well.
Which was nothing compared to the recurring molerat problems. A breeding pair got into the water system and erupted to say "How do you do!" to Fat Tommy.
Rest in peace, Fat Tommy. Naturally I ordered some of our nearby Dwellers in to cull the nest, and...
Rest in peace, Richards brothers. I'm sure your girlfriend will remember you fondly for all of five seconds. (Note to self: work out who is manufacturing lingerie for the female Dwellers.)
No sightings of Captain Terry, but more and more Dwellers are going out into the Wasteland for undocumented excursions. I'm doubling work on the Shaft before this rebellion gets out of hand.
Saturday, September 5, 2015
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...
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.
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!
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!
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