My Megaton House
Feb. 7th, 2009 11:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
aaaaaaaagh_skyOnce she'd seen Annabelle and Demyx safely back to Milliways via the Megaton main gate, Ellen paused to take stock of her situation. Sheriff Simms had given her a house- not a room, a house!- and seemed to be expecting her to stay, but honestly... All she wanted to do was find her father. Then she could ask him why he'd run off, And then-
Well, then she'd be able to go back to the Vault, probably. Sure, the Overseer had said he'd have her shot on sight, but- he'd have to have guards outside the Vault for that, right? And if she brought Dad back with her they'd know that she was going to ansnwer their questions, and then they wouldn't shoot, because losing a crack at finding out what was going on would probably make the Overseer angrier than Dad leaving to begin with. So they'd be able to go home, and the house wouldn't even be necessary any more after that. She'd just have to make sure to give the key and deed back before she and Dad returned to the Vault.
(But Dad was from outside, it occurred to her as she trudged up the dusty craterside stairs towards the house Simms had indicated. Dad had been born on the surface, sometime long ago, and he'd only come to the Vault after she was born. Why would he want to go back?)
She pushed the thoughts away. That would have to wait until she found her father again, and she couldn't do that until daylight. At least she'd be able to sleep somewhere with four walls and no murdering psychopaths to worry about. The lock looked pretty solid as she jiggled the key a bit. It definitely wasn't the sort of lock she would take a bobby pin to with any kind of confidence. That was reassuring; anybody likely to give her trouble would give themselves away in the process of trying to get in.
The tumblers finally clicked into place. Ellen pushed the door open and blinked a few times as the interior light caught her full in the face. Huh. Simms had said that the previous owner was dead, so who-
"Aaah, good evening, mistress!" announced a voice Ellen was shocked to recognize. She tore her eyes from the lockers and shelves that lined the metal walls, and turned to see the unmistakable form of a Mr. Handy robot hovering over the stairs. Not Andy, surely, but still! There were only so many possible variations on the theme of 'floating metal beachball with three sensor eyes and three manipulator arms', and this one could've been Andy's twin. "Allow me to introduce myself," it said cheerfully. "I am Wadsworth, your personal robotic butler. I am here to look after your needs and keep you happy and entertained."
"You... Sheriff Simms didn't mention you," Ellen managed. "Are you sure you're supposed to be here?"
"Positive, madam. I am included in the text of the property deed, to the best of my knowledge."
Ellen glanced down at the holotape the Sheriff had given her and slotted it into her Pip-Boy. Sure enough, the list of items transferred to the new owner of the house included a Mr. Handy programmed to respond to the name Wadsworth. "Wow," she said. "I didn't think anybody here would have a working robot."
"There are two other robotic residents of Megaton, madam. Deputy Weld ought to have greeted you upon your arrival at the town gates, and Deputy Steel stands guard in the town armory. As for myself, I arrived here with Mr. Burke-"
"Mr. Burke!" Ellen exclaimed, shocked.
"Why, yes. The prior owner of this house. Not, mind you, that he spent any time in it whatsoever." Despite not having a nose, or any need to breathe whatsoever, Wadsworth sniffed. "In fact, I couldn't say what he did do here in Megaton beyond spending his caps in the saloon. That being said, what can I do for you?"
Ellen found herself wondering just how recently that policy the Sheriff had spoken of had been written. She shook herself off and said, "I just need to lie down, Wadsworth. It's been kind of a long day."
"Certainly, madam! Your bedroom is at the top of the stairs, to the left. Do sleep well."
If the robot hadn't said that bit about Mr. Burke not sleeping here, Ellen doubted she'd have been able to sleep at all. As it stood, the bedroom was nothing like anything she'd had to sleep in before. There was a desk, an old filing cabinet (empty of anything save a few unused clipboards), a mattress and a folded-up blanket that might have been Army surplus centuries ago. That was it. Not that the beds in Vault 101 had been cushy, but they were at least- well-
Oh, just lie down and go to sleep, she told herself sternly. Dad's probably sleeping on the ground somewhere right now. This has to be better than that.
And so she did.
The lights didn't come up automatically in the morning here, the way they did in the Vault, but there was enough sunlight slanting through the chinks in the metal plates that made up the walls to get Ellen's eyes open. It took her a moment to work out where she was. Blinking groggily- her bed at Milliways had been exactly the same as her bed in the Vault, so sleeping on an unfamiliar surface hadn't done her any real favors- she staggered out of the bedroom and made her way downstairs. "Wadsworth?" she called.
The soft whirr of a Mr. Handy's thrusters preceded the robot's arrival. "Yes, madam?"
"Where do I go to wash up?"
"The bathing facilities are just about one-third of the way around the crater from here, madam. Just shy of the common house's front door."
"Thanks." She ran one hand through her tangled hair, thinking. "Is there somewhere else in town I can get supplies? I have to go into the Wasteland for a while."
"Most certainly, Madam. Once you've finished your morning ablutions, return here and make your way down to the ramp below Sheriff Simms' house. Follow that upwards over the clinic's roof and you'll find yourself at Craterside Supply, run by Miss Moira Brown."
"Oh good." Ellen stifled a yawn. "I should probably eat breakfast first."
"As you wish, madam. Ground squirrel stew, perhaps?"
"... huh?"
"I am programmed with several dozen different methods of food preparation fit for any occasion and level of provisions," the robot informed her smugly. "I keep the house stocked with supplies and provisions as necessary."
Ellen thought about that for a while, and then decided not to ask. She probably didn't need to know the specifics. And anyway, if there was already food here it would spare her existing supplies, so long as- "It's fresh, right?"
"Please, madam," said Wadsworth, sounding offended. "I would never stoop so low as to offer anything less."
"All right, all right," said Ellen. "I'm sorry, Wadsworth. I'll take the stew, I guess."
"Excellent choice, madam," said the robot, and hummed off into the back room.
Well, then she'd be able to go back to the Vault, probably. Sure, the Overseer had said he'd have her shot on sight, but- he'd have to have guards outside the Vault for that, right? And if she brought Dad back with her they'd know that she was going to ansnwer their questions, and then they wouldn't shoot, because losing a crack at finding out what was going on would probably make the Overseer angrier than Dad leaving to begin with. So they'd be able to go home, and the house wouldn't even be necessary any more after that. She'd just have to make sure to give the key and deed back before she and Dad returned to the Vault.
(But Dad was from outside, it occurred to her as she trudged up the dusty craterside stairs towards the house Simms had indicated. Dad had been born on the surface, sometime long ago, and he'd only come to the Vault after she was born. Why would he want to go back?)
She pushed the thoughts away. That would have to wait until she found her father again, and she couldn't do that until daylight. At least she'd be able to sleep somewhere with four walls and no murdering psychopaths to worry about. The lock looked pretty solid as she jiggled the key a bit. It definitely wasn't the sort of lock she would take a bobby pin to with any kind of confidence. That was reassuring; anybody likely to give her trouble would give themselves away in the process of trying to get in.
The tumblers finally clicked into place. Ellen pushed the door open and blinked a few times as the interior light caught her full in the face. Huh. Simms had said that the previous owner was dead, so who-
"Aaah, good evening, mistress!" announced a voice Ellen was shocked to recognize. She tore her eyes from the lockers and shelves that lined the metal walls, and turned to see the unmistakable form of a Mr. Handy robot hovering over the stairs. Not Andy, surely, but still! There were only so many possible variations on the theme of 'floating metal beachball with three sensor eyes and three manipulator arms', and this one could've been Andy's twin. "Allow me to introduce myself," it said cheerfully. "I am Wadsworth, your personal robotic butler. I am here to look after your needs and keep you happy and entertained."
"You... Sheriff Simms didn't mention you," Ellen managed. "Are you sure you're supposed to be here?"
"Positive, madam. I am included in the text of the property deed, to the best of my knowledge."
Ellen glanced down at the holotape the Sheriff had given her and slotted it into her Pip-Boy. Sure enough, the list of items transferred to the new owner of the house included a Mr. Handy programmed to respond to the name Wadsworth. "Wow," she said. "I didn't think anybody here would have a working robot."
"There are two other robotic residents of Megaton, madam. Deputy Weld ought to have greeted you upon your arrival at the town gates, and Deputy Steel stands guard in the town armory. As for myself, I arrived here with Mr. Burke-"
"Mr. Burke!" Ellen exclaimed, shocked.
"Why, yes. The prior owner of this house. Not, mind you, that he spent any time in it whatsoever." Despite not having a nose, or any need to breathe whatsoever, Wadsworth sniffed. "In fact, I couldn't say what he did do here in Megaton beyond spending his caps in the saloon. That being said, what can I do for you?"
Ellen found herself wondering just how recently that policy the Sheriff had spoken of had been written. She shook herself off and said, "I just need to lie down, Wadsworth. It's been kind of a long day."
"Certainly, madam! Your bedroom is at the top of the stairs, to the left. Do sleep well."
If the robot hadn't said that bit about Mr. Burke not sleeping here, Ellen doubted she'd have been able to sleep at all. As it stood, the bedroom was nothing like anything she'd had to sleep in before. There was a desk, an old filing cabinet (empty of anything save a few unused clipboards), a mattress and a folded-up blanket that might have been Army surplus centuries ago. That was it. Not that the beds in Vault 101 had been cushy, but they were at least- well-
Oh, just lie down and go to sleep, she told herself sternly. Dad's probably sleeping on the ground somewhere right now. This has to be better than that.
And so she did.
The lights didn't come up automatically in the morning here, the way they did in the Vault, but there was enough sunlight slanting through the chinks in the metal plates that made up the walls to get Ellen's eyes open. It took her a moment to work out where she was. Blinking groggily- her bed at Milliways had been exactly the same as her bed in the Vault, so sleeping on an unfamiliar surface hadn't done her any real favors- she staggered out of the bedroom and made her way downstairs. "Wadsworth?" she called.
The soft whirr of a Mr. Handy's thrusters preceded the robot's arrival. "Yes, madam?"
"Where do I go to wash up?"
"The bathing facilities are just about one-third of the way around the crater from here, madam. Just shy of the common house's front door."
"Thanks." She ran one hand through her tangled hair, thinking. "Is there somewhere else in town I can get supplies? I have to go into the Wasteland for a while."
"Most certainly, Madam. Once you've finished your morning ablutions, return here and make your way down to the ramp below Sheriff Simms' house. Follow that upwards over the clinic's roof and you'll find yourself at Craterside Supply, run by Miss Moira Brown."
"Oh good." Ellen stifled a yawn. "I should probably eat breakfast first."
"As you wish, madam. Ground squirrel stew, perhaps?"
"... huh?"
"I am programmed with several dozen different methods of food preparation fit for any occasion and level of provisions," the robot informed her smugly. "I keep the house stocked with supplies and provisions as necessary."
Ellen thought about that for a while, and then decided not to ask. She probably didn't need to know the specifics. And anyway, if there was already food here it would spare her existing supplies, so long as- "It's fresh, right?"
"Please, madam," said Wadsworth, sounding offended. "I would never stoop so low as to offer anything less."
"All right, all right," said Ellen. "I'm sorry, Wadsworth. I'll take the stew, I guess."
"Excellent choice, madam," said the robot, and hummed off into the back room.