Giddyup Buttercup Factory

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

It would be nice to say the sun was beating down from overhead, but it's not. Partly because a few minutes ago it was raining, and partly because, well, the door opens onto the factory interior. It's dark here, with the only light coming from Ellen's Pip-Boy, the side lamp on Ellen's helmet, and the occasional crack in the walls or chink in the ceiling.

It also smells here. This was never a well-ventilated place. Two hundred years of neglect have improved the cross-breezes somewhat, but only barely- and things have been living here for a while now that had no concept of sanitation or hygiene.

"I'm sorry about the smell. I can only imagine what it must be like on your side of the helmet," Ellen's muffled voice says.

Comments

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

It's the principle of the thing. Worst comes to worst, Ellen will settle for a reasonably orderly heap.

Anyway, it doesn't take that long. Ellen's done this too often; it's habit by now. She bows her head, murmurs the words, and looks up. "Okay," she says. "Mutant time. I think he's upstairs. That catwalk on the left is pretty solid, but there's about half a ghoul partway up, and one of the railings is gone because that's what her head was lying against when it went off."

[aeons_crackshot]

Annabelle nods in understanding and readies the Sniper rifle. She's not going to take on one of them with the ripper by choice, thank you.

"I'll remember to hug the wall, then," she replies quietly. "Do you want me to take point?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"If you're up for it, sure," Ellen says. "I've got your back."

Ellen wasn't kidding about the rail being missing. At least the floor of the catwalk wasn't too badly effected. It is not, however, a walk for the squeamish; even after passing the majority of the corpse one's boots make nasty sticky squelchy noises. Up ahead the stairs and the catwalk come to a stop at a mostly-intact door. Annabelle may spot a sickly greenish glow somewhere down the corridor beyond.

[aeons_crackshot]

Annabelle nods and takes point, rifle at the ready. It's a mercy that she's accustomed to ignoring those all too familiar squelching noises.

The green glow catches her eye, and she motions with one hand for Ellen to stop. She's trying to determine if the glow is being caused by a glowing ghoul like they ran into in the tunnels on a previous visit.

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"Blaaaargh!"

Thaaaaaaaaaaat'd be a yes, Bob. Oh, and it's coming this way- as are two other flailing horrors, although admittedly of the non-luminescent variety.

[aeons_crackshot]

If any of them are obliging enough to be in line with one another, Annabelle will bag two for the price of one.

HEAP ammo is capable of piercing light armor, what will it do to a ghoul's skull?

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

Well, if the first one is anything to go by, it'll trigger the BeeBeeBeeSPLORTCH! effect. The second, well, it kinda lost some velocity there, so it's just gonna make that second ghoul mad.

'Course, the third ghoul just screamed and dissolved in a puddle of green goo, so all things considered they're still ahead by a good bit.

[aeons_crackshot]

Annabelle makes several comments about the second ghoul's ancestry that are probably entirely unwarranted when she sees that it doesn't go down.

Unfortunately for the ghoul, she still has more bullets. There's the familiar sound of a round being chambered and she takes her second shot.

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

That's one tough bastard ghoul; Ellen's plasma bolt doesn't seem to stop it, either. However, that third shot's enough, and it goes down flai-

BeeBeeBeeSPLORTCH!

"That gets old really fast," Ellen says.

[aeons_crackshot]

"No kidding," Annabelle says with a sigh. "I don't see any more, but I suspect that anything else around here probably knows about us now."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"COME OUT, COME OUT, WHEREVER YOU ARE!"

"You were saying?" says Ellen, checking the microfusion cells in her rifle. "We've got mutant sign."

[aeons_crackshot]

She reloads the rifle. "Over here you misbegotten cannibal!" Annabelle shouts.

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

There's a mad cackle from the darkness up ahead. Ellen drops to one knee and takes aim as the mutant comes charging into view- toting what looks to be a minigun, its barrels already spinning up to fire.

[aeons_crackshot]

The trouble with a gun that requires its barrels to spin up to fire, is that that process takes time. Time the mutant may not have.

Annabelle is as fast and accurate a shot as it's possible for a human to be, and she's been fighting things bigger, nastier, and faster than humans for a very long time.

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

The first few rounds of five millimeter ammo split the air at about the same time that Annabelle's bullet splits the mutant's forehead, and Ellen's plasma bolts start hitting the thing shortly thereafter. Suffice it to say that between the HEAP ammo and the plasma, there aren't a lot of five milli-

BeeBeeBeeSPLORTCH!

-you get the idea.

[aeons_crackshot]

"Your world is insane," Annabelle remarks as what's left of the mutant hits the ground.

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"I wish I could argue," Ellen says as she moves forward to relieve the corpse of its ammunition and a few other things she saw attached to its makeshift armor. "I really do."

Once she's done, she does her best to get the prayers said, then shakes her head. "We should keep going. There are spare parts in the next manufacturing area over, or at least there were before I left."

[aeons_crackshot]

"Probably still there, then," Annabelle says with a nod. "Maybe we'll get lucky and all of the parts will be in one place."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"That would be nice," Ellen says as they continue on their way. "The faster we get those parts the faster we can get out of here."

[aeons_crackshot]

"It would," Annabelle agrees as they keep moving. She doesn't think it's likely to happen, but you never know your luck.

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

There are, alas, several more ghouls waiting for them in the room up ahead. And like the others, they make a rather engaging BeeBeeBeeSPLORTCH! noise upon being killed. Ellen just shakes her head, but then stops; there's a faint glow from the far side of the room, just around the corner, that she hadn't noticed before.

"That one's not moving," she murmurs. "I don't think it's a Glowing One..."

[aeons_crackshot]

"I don't recall them glowing after they're dead," Annabelle says, thinking out loud.

"Do you want me to put a bullet in it and see what happens?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"Let's get a little closer," Ellen murmurs. "I'd like to see what it is, first."

[aeons_crackshot]

Annabelle nods in understanding and moves as carefully and quietly as possible toward the glow. What will it be?

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

As it turns out, it's an ancient, battered, but still-just-barely-functional computer terminal. The screen displays a constantly moving fall of crudely sketched bombs. Upon touching one of the keys, it lights up with a note left by whoever used it last:

I have used materials from the small explosives cache I found to further safeguard myself from my experiments. I have wired the building to broadcast a signal from this terminal that in emergency will detonate all chips. I pray that day never comes.


"You know," says Ellen, "maybe it's just me, but when a scientist has to safeguard himself from his experiments, he's probably doing something wrong, right?"