Borkus Lazorus
Senior Member
Wastelander 1: It never gets old, huh?
Wastelander 2: Nope.
Wastelander 1: It kinda makes you want to...
Wastelander 2: Break into song?
Wastelander 1: Yep.
Plot 1 - Pax Americana
When America ended WW2 by dropping atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, people awaited the end-times. Ragnarok. The arrival of Armageddon to come and swiftly deal with humanity's hubris. Would Oppenheimer and Einstein's vision of a blighted future come true? Would humanity fall upon their own sword?
No. At least, not yet. It was an era of political domineering, radicalization and paranoia among countries all over the world. Blocs formed, borders were created, a thick air of hostile tension brewed between the USSR and the USA.
Instead, something miraculous happened in the United States of America in the 1950s. We began to harness atomic energy, not as a weapon, but as a nearly unlimited source of power. Technologies, once thought to be in the realm of science fiction, became wide-spread available to the general public.
Portable computers. Autonomous robots. Fusion powered cars. Digital revolutions. Scientific advancements. Technological renaissances. America became the fore-front of a seemingly utopic society, like those displayed in the World's Fair. It was the shining example of what a civilization could truly be,
Yet, it was a double-sided coin. With the advancement of boons, there comes tools of suffering, unimaginable horror, designed not to uplift humanity but merely to destroy. All was necessary in the war against Communism back then. Power Armor. Biological weapons. Cloning. Human Experimentation. Science without restraint. Without humanity. Simple ideals were transformed in that cauldron to warped caricatures of what they once were.
America's attitude didn't help the situation. International cooperation became a joke once the U.S.A disbanded itself from the United Nations, becoming strictly isolationist. Without a major super-power to lead them into the future, the U.N soon dissolved itself. An atmosphere of jingoism and xenophobic war-mongering reigned from the 1950s to the modern era. Democracy soon was replaced with a tin-pot tyrant that flaunted its power.
The Resource Wars then begun. Mass shortages of every resource that kept the world going around ; coal, natural gas, petroleum, iron; began to run out. The world stopped spinning in the right direction and then, started spinning in the opposite. Nations internally collasped from the inside-out. All the while, the USA turned a blind-eye to it, mis-informing its citizens about the world at large and doing everything in their power to make sure that America would secure the future of the globe.
It is the year, 2075. The USA is a shadow of its former self. Every international relation has been cut off permanently. Its neighbor, Canada, has been fully annexed as the 51st state of the USA. The last remaining oil reserves are protected selfishly for their own interests. Food and energy riots erupt and die down in the same day. Martial law is declared all over the 50 states.
It is preparing for the end of the world to come.
You are an average American citizen in all of this, living your life in idyllic sunny suburban paradise. Sure, there's a war going on, a large proportion of America's population are starving to death and democracy has become a illusion but you've got everything a patriotic, red-blooded (Not in that way) middle class American could ask for.
Tickets to your nearest baseball game every Saturday. Bottles of nuka-cola to keep you refreshed. Fresh american green to keep you spending away and to keep your mind empty of any seditious thought.
Long live the American Dream.
Plot 2 - Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust
War. War never changes.
Neolithic cavemen murdered each other out of cold blood like the tales of Cain and Abel of old. Napoleon led the French in a ensuing battle against the entirety of Europe. Hitler and the Axis Powers were the catalyst of the biggest war that hit the 20th century.
Power. Riches. Hatred. Greed. These wars all stem from these vices of humanity.
Yet, the same vices that caused these wars led to the downfall of humanity. In the 21st Century, the Resource Wars happened. International treaties became forfeit. Sovereignty ruled over cooperation. Everything was squandered on the next deposit of oil or a underground vein of uranium. Peace became an illusion, a distant afterthought. Countries fell apart. Wars tore the environment asunder.
Until humanity really, finally did it. Nobody knows who pressed the button first. In October, 2077, on the precipice of humanity's technological advancement, the horrors of Einstein's nightmare became world-wide. Oceans boiled into great empty deserts. The land became blighted and uninhabitable. The skies fizzled away as spears of atomic fire rained down and cleansed the world.
A quiet darkness reigned over several years. But humanity is stubborn. Humanity does not give up so easily to a event like this.
Over thousands of lives were spared, thanks to the works of Vault-Tec and their underground proprietary state of the art underground fallout shelters, havens from the hell of the wastes. These inhabitants set out once those great cog doors opened, establishing villages, laws, fledgling settlements on the husk of the old world.
As the decades passed, what had been the American southwest united beneath the flag of the New California Republic, dedicated to old world values of democracy, and the rule of law. As the Republic grew, so did its needs. Scouts spread east, seeking territory and wealth, in the dry and merciless expanse of the Mojave Desert. They returned with tales of a city – New Vegas – untouched by the warheads that had scorched the rest of the world, and a great wall spanning the Colorado River. The NCR mobilized its army and sent it east to occupy the Hoover Dam, and restore it to working condition.
But across the Colorado, another society had arisen under a different flag. A vast army of slaves, forged in the conquest of 86 tribes: Caesar's Legion.
Four years have passed since the Republic held the Dam – just barely – against the Legion's onslaught. The Legion did not retreat. Across the river, the Legion gathers strength… campfires burn, training drums beat, and it is only a matter of time before they cross the Colorado again.
Through it all, the New Vegas Strip has remained open for business under the control of its mysterious owner, the enigmatic Mr. House, and his army of rehabilitated tribals, and police robots.
The deadlock between the three factions has been unshakable. Until as of late. A single man, the Courier, is the wildcard that shapes the fate of the Mojave forever. Rising from the grave, without a nickle to his name, the Courier walked his road to the end like all other wasteland legends. The 87 tribes of Arizona were single-handily defeated by a mailman, Caesar's vision of a old-world empire shattered by a 50 caliber bullet to the skull. New Vegas is now the city of no gods and no masters, not what Mr House had intended.
In time, Hoover Dam became a part of his deck as well. A single man out-thinks and out-maneuvers entire armies and legions of soldiers as the NCR is forced to stop its imperialistic expansion. Momentarily, of course. The Bear is enraged. Enraged at how its long-fought reward has been reaped from its paws. It brings all of its strength on New Vegas and while the Courier is a master of deception, the numbers of the NCR are too much for him to handle.
The Courier dissipates into history and time itself, with only his open grave in Good-springs to mark his absence.
This nightmare hasn't reached its end yet. It is merely the beginning of the end of the Mojave.
The NCR, by chance or sheer luck, happens upon the Sierra Madre and its foul technology. Using the Lucky 38 as a proving grounds for its revolutionary technologies, NCR scientists experiment with the haze of death known as the Cloud and the vile ghosts of the casino. The NCR's heart blackens, their experiments breaking what little humanity has left, as they struggle to replicate technologies that are beyond their grasp. Meanwhile, dust storms begin to flood in, the brother of War riding to the west, Pestilence. The Bear is undaunted by the possibility, ignoring its presence.
The dominoes begin to fall. The Cloud is let loose onto New Vegas and the outer urban fringes of the vast city. The descent into chaos and anarchy begins. Martial law occurs. Rebellions and uprisings happen. The standard traits of the downfall of civilization. Eventually, the situation is beyond repair. Mass droves of civilians manage to escape Vegas before the great, unblemished city falls into disrepair and destruction. The Mojave is in critical condition. Then, an unimaginable dust storm, the wrath of the wasteland itself, plunges a knife mercilessly into the patient's chest.
There is only one rule in the Dust Bowl.
Do anything that is necessary to survive another day.
Only monsters survive here.
Am I ashamed of what I became? I don't think about that anymore.
Besides, don't be picky about the food. The guy's fresher than the one last week. Take the thigh. Ribs a little chewy.
Rules
1. Partners must be active and be able communicators with me. Posting rates don't matter as long as I don't have to wait 6 months for your reason about why you can't post.
2. I am expecting a decent background of Fallout Lore in order to do these plots justice. Not every obscure piece of detailed information has to be known in order to roleplay successfully.
3. I am expecting a poster who is able to do multi-paragraphed posts but quality over quantity as always.
4. PM me a writing sample of your most recent roleplay or what you consider to be your best piece of writing before we start roleplaying.
5. Be able to contribute to worldbuilding and pre-plotting.
6. Have fun.
